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Chapter Text

Franziska von Karma stepped confidently into her father’s private study. He had something he needed to discuss with her. Perhaps about a case she had recently closed? Franziska wasn’t worried. She knew that everything she had done up to that point—all her recent cases, especially—had been perfect, just as Papa liked it. There was no reason to be nervous. 

“Franziska,” her father sighed softly, not in disappointment but in relief. 

Whatever he was struggling with, Franziska would help him figure it out. She was sure of it.

“Yes, Papa?” Franziska replied. 

“A new case came across my desk this morning. I think it’s one you should be able to handle.” 

“Of course, Papa.” 

She could handle anything.

Stepping further into the study, she reached out and took the file her father had handed her. She flipped open the folder and began taking in the information about the victim, the crime, the defendant… 

As she read through the record, Manfred stood from his desk and went to the window, looking out across the grounds as the sun was setting. Franziska’s gaze paused on the next of kin listed for the victim. It had been a man convicted of homicide several months before in one of her father’s trials. What was he doing linked to this murder? Surely there couldn’t be a connection…but she had to uncover every possibility. 

“Papa, the next of kin—” 

“You recognize the name? Very good,” Manfred praised her. Pride swelled in her chest. Of course she had noticed. The case from several months ago had been incredibly prolific—many of the major news outlets had covered it. 

“Do you still have the case file regarding the Albrecht murders?” Franziska asked, closing the folder again. 

“Of course. You know where the old case files are. You may take it and begin your investigation.” Manfred raised a hand and beckoned her forward. 

Franziska came around the back of the desk and set the initial file down before pulling open the drawer where most of the recent cases lived, filed away for instances like this. She remembered seeing it not too long ago and tabbed through the files, looking for the folder labeled with her father’s neat handwriting. Albrecht, Albrecht… 

Finally, her fingers landed on the case folder itself and as she slid the file out from the drawer another envelope fell with it. She frowned, not recognizing the envelope—it hadn’t been part of the case file…and it didn’t look like case evidence from anything else on her father’s desk. Franziska didn’t recognize the handwriting but she did recognize the name on the front of the envelope: 

Miles Edgeworth.

Her curiosity was piqued. Her gaze drifted to the return address portion of the envelope. It was a name she didn’t recognize, but she noticed it had come all the way from America. It had several postage stamps and the postmark was from…April? Surely that couldn’t be right. But once she thought about it… the Albrecht murders happened in the first week of May. The letter must have come in about the same time.

Franziska turned it over in her hands. 

“Papa?” 

“What is it? Is it not there?” Manfred asked, tilting his head towards her.

“No, it’s here…but what is this letter to Miles Edgeworth doing mixed in with the case file?” 

Manfred turned around completely now, a frown creasing his face even more than usual, before seeing the letter in her hands. 

“Oh,” Manfred sighed. His furrowed brows relaxed with a shrug. “Yes, it arrived for him quite some time ago.” 

“I can see that. April?” Franziska asked, holding up the envelope and tapping on the postmark. 

“Yes, about the same time the Albrecht murders happened. I meant to have it sent on, but it must have gotten lost among all the other reports and things from that time,” Manfred said. 

“Shall we…send it on now?” Franziska asked. October was nearly over, but Miles was entitled to have the mail that was meant for him regardless. Perhaps it was some information he had requested for a case? She hoped the lost letter hadn’t caused any issues with his career or any of the cases he had taken on. 

Her father looked indifferent. 

“It’s not important,” Manfred decided. “It’s from nearly six months ago. Surely whatever information in that letter is outdated and doesn’t even warrant being sent along now,” he explained. His words implied that he wasn’t sure what the letter contained, but his face said otherwise—betraying the fact that he seemed to have an idea as to what was inside the letter. There was disdain in his gaze. “Throw the letter out and get to work on the investigation.” 

“I…I’ll take care of it, Papa,” Franziska promised, tucking the letter into the folder. “Thank you for entrusting me with this new case.” 

“I expect a conviction,” Manfred said swiftly.

“Nothing less, Papa.” Franziska curtseyed slightly before turning on her heel and leaving the room. As she made her way down the hall towards her own private study in the manor, her fingers went for the envelope she had tucked away. Franziska pulled it out and placed it on top, her eyes examining the handwriting once again. As she reread the name of the sender…she seemed to remember Miles receiving a letter like it in the past. 

It had been just after his eighteenth birthday. She had asked him what relative or friend in America was sending him birthday wishes. He had clammed up and looked caught off-guard by the question before blushing and stashing it away. 

The letter had the same handwriting. The same name, if she remembered correctly. 

She remembered seeing that letter sit on Miles’ desk for quite some time, untouched…unopened, but still sitting on his desk. Franziska thought it was foolish to leave clutter like that around. Either open the letter and return the correspondence, or toss it out and don’t think about it again. 

Eventually, he received more letters like it. He tried to hide it, but she had seen them. There weren’t tons of letters. Perhaps once a year he would receive one and it would be tucked away on the same corner of his desk that the others had been. 

Franziska wanted to open it. She’d be lying if she hadn’t been extremely curious about what kind of person could be so important to garner such a reaction from her little brother. 

Her father had said to throw it out, but something told Franziska that she shouldn’t do that. If nothing else, it would be fun ammunition to tease Miles Edgeworth with. She hadn’t spoken to him in a little while and the holidays would be coming up before long… 

Before she could focus on the new case, she needed to solve this old one first. 

Franziska set the case files aside before finding a fresh sheet of stationery and a pen before setting to work. Once that was written and was ready to be sent along, then she could focus on the fresh puzzle of a case before her.

Chapter Text

Miles Edgeworth frowned as the latest mail was brought up to his office by one of the secretaries at the Prosecutor’s Office. It contained not one but two pieces of personal correspondence. 

What was the coincidence? 

What on earth warranted a letter from both Franziska von Karma and Phoenix Wright? 

He hadn’t heard from Wright in quite some time. The occasional letter would find its way to Miles the past few years when he was still back in Germany. How Wright had found his contact information, after all that time, he had no idea. 

Not that Miles had even taken the time to respond to Wright’s letters. 

Miles would be lying to himself if he wasn’t curious about his grade school friend who, for whatever godforsaken reason, remained in his thoughts even so many years later. But perhaps it was that he was terrified…  

Terrified? Terrified that too much had changed…? That the image he had in his mind of Phoenix Wright would be shattered—or perhaps, Miles begrudgingly admitted to himself—he was terrified that Wright would hate him. 

He honestly wasn’t sure if he could handle that. 

But now… 

Well, of course, Miles hadn’t necessarily told him that he was back in America. If he had, Miles was sure that the volume of communication from him would only increase and Wright would want to meet again and Miles wasn’t sure how he had felt about that. 

But…if this letter was now coming across his desk addressed to his office in the prosecutor’s office…

Wright knew he was here. 

He knew he was back in America. 

And most of all…he knew Miles had become a prosecutor.

He knew what he had become.

There was a tight, unpleasant feeling that knotted Miles’ stomach. 

Miles sighed and set Wright’s letter to the side for the moment. He’d decide on how to deal with it later. Most likely the letter would end up like the others—it would sit on his desk, taunting him, until it got swept away with some other paperwork to be filed away. Then would sit unperturbed in his desk, gathering dust until the end of time.  

Yes, that would be sufficient.

He then picked up Franziska’s letter. Miles wondered what could have warranted a handwritten note sent through the mail and not something that she could have simply emailed or called him about. 

It wasn’t often that they talked now that Miles lived in America. The gap in time zones made instant communication difficult at best, but if she needed something…she knew how to get ahold of him without having to resort to handwritten letters… 

Miles noticed that the envelope was a little thicker and a little heavier than a usual one or two-page letter. 

Paperwork? Was that what she had to send him? Could she not have simply emailed or faxed the office? He slowly opened it, ensuring he got no paper cuts, before sliding out the contents of the envelope. 

It was… another envelope?

And a single-page letter folded on top of it, on Franziska’s usual stationary. 

Sliding the letter off of the envelope inside, his gaze shifted to the addressee on the envelope. It was the same handwriting as the other letter currently sitting on his desk from Wright. 

Two letters from Wright? One by way of Franziska?

He quickly unfolded Franziska’s letter.

Miles groaned to himself as he put the letter down. Not only would he have to deal with the Wright situation, but he’d also have to start considering his plans for Christmas…

He didn’t necessarily want to return to Germany for Christmas. 

Miles knew he could use the excuse of work to avoid going and von Karma would find that more than acceptable. 

However, with the holidays coming up it would give him a good excuse to return for a visit. 

Miles wouldn’t mind taking the opportunity to prove to von Karma he was thriving here in the states. He didn’t necessarily like the man—he was intimidating and strict—but he couldn’t deny what a legendary genius of a prosecutor he was. Von Karma’s impressive career was something Miles could only strive for and he did appreciate his insight and guidance. 

It would be nice to return and speak with him on some things, but he didn’t want the entire holiday to turn into a week-long work trip. 

That was how last year had turned out. 

Last Christmas…it had actually been quite a mess. It was his first time returning to Germany since moving back to America to start his prosecutor career. The only thing they had wanted to talk about was the first eight months of his career… 

Correction—

The only thing they wanted to talk about was the very first case he had prosecuted. 

The failure.

Even though Miles had had seven months of trial wins after that initial trial, all they wanted to do was focus on the failure. 

The failure to snatch a conviction. 

And really, the only reason why it had not been a win was that the defendant had killed himself during the trial and therefore no actual verdict was handed down. 

That’s what he told himself. But if the case had proceeded without the sudden suicide… 

He shook himself out of his reverie. When he thought about that case…would he have gotten the conviction he needed? Or would that irritating defense attorney have gotten Fawles off on a Not Guilty verdict? It didn’t matter. The man was still a convicted kidnapper and murderer who had escaped prison. Well, he supposed the murder victim of the initial case hadn’t actually died, but…    

That entire case…what a nightmare… 

Regardless—he wanted to avoid the harsh dissection of his failures , but he didn’t want to avoid Manfred von Karma altogether. He wanted to remain relevant in the man’s eyes and prove that his tutelage wasn’t wasted on him. It was a conflicting attitude of wanting to not be stuck under the man’s shadow his whole life and simply wanting to be good enough that Manfred von Karma recognized him and his talents. 

It was a slog growing up with Franziska. He was constantly pitted against her and she was always the one who was praised. It never seemed that anything he did was good enough for Manfred von Karma. However, everything Franziska did was incredible and praise-worthy. In the deepest recesses of his mind, he knew that he would never compare to her in von Karma’s eyes. Franziska was his blood, his actual daughter, the one with his name… 

Miles was just the charity case he had taken in after his father, von Karma’s rival, Gregory Edgeworth, had perished in a courthouse tragedy. He would always be the son of Edgeworth to von Karma. Miles knew it wasn’t reasonable to try and compete with Franziska, but for whatever reason, he still felt compelled to.

Since moving back to America, he had almost been completely forgotten by von Karma. So perhaps this desire to return to Germany for Christmas was him wishing to remain relevant to the only family he’d had since he was nine years old.

He glanced down at Franziska’s letter again. Despite his frustrations with the girl and her father, he did, in fact, miss her. Even just a little.

While she was generally a pain to deal with, Miles loathed to admit that he worried about her—frequently. He supposed this feeling was akin to how any elder sibling would feel, despite the fact that they were not related by blood. 

He knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself, but as he had watched her grow up from the age of two…

She hadn’t ever had a proper childhood. Even though Miles was aware of the fact that he had hardly had a conventional childhood either, he at least had a little bit of time where he was allowed to just be a kid before he was taken in by von Karma. Franziska hadn’t even had that. 

He set Franziska’s letter to the side for now and ran a hand down his face in exhaustion. 

Hesitantly, he reached out for the other letter included in the envelope. Miles glanced at the postmark since Franziska had mentioned it was relatively old. 

Hm, April…?

Well, Miles supposed he could actually open it and read it this time. Curiosity was getting the better of him. Despite his previous anxieties, opening and reading the letter wouldn’t hurt. He didn’t need to respond to it, but he could read it at least to sate his curiosity. 

Miles unfolded it and noted the date before he began to read:

Miles set the letter down, rubbing his temple. This…idealizedversion Wright had of him made his stomach churn. There was no way he could ever face him and explain everything that had happened since they last saw each other as children… 

But then…there was this other letter. 

Before he could think it over any more, Miles turned the envelope over and opened it, sliding the letter out. 

Miles put the letter down as his gaze became unfocused and he stared blankly at his desk in front of him.

So…Wright knew that he was a prosecutor and that his idealized image of Miles was shattered. 

Perhaps…if Miles had taken the time to open, read, and return the letters earlier, Wright wouldn’t have found out by way of media articles and rumors—the rumors Miles was the demon prosecutor who used under-the-table deals, fabricated evidence, and conducted illegal investigations. Not that any of those allegations were true, but… 

Miles groaned to himself as this new problem wedged itself into his heart. There was no reason why Wright’s impression of him should even bother him. 

Phoenix Wright was a relic of his past, he tried to tell himself. 

However…Miles had kept all the correspondence from him, even if it was buried away, unopened. He had even kept careful care of the Signal Samurai keychain from his childhood that surely both of his friends had already lost or thrown away by this point.

He wondered if he should dig through his things and find the other couple of letters Wright had written him. Thinking back, Miles did realize he had sent about a letter a year since they were seventeen or eighteen. 

Miles had always wondered how Wright had gotten a hold of his information and von Karma’s address in Germany. If he thought back and tried to work an investigation from Wright’s point of view…how would he have gone about researching an old childhood friend? 

Start with their name and work backward? 

A search of his name would probably result in his father’s old law practice. From there Wright could have tracked down any number of old acquaintances who might have known where he ended up after his father’s death. Namely…Raymond Shields, who had taken over his father’s offices? Would Raymond so blatantly give information like that out to anyone who asked for it? Maybe he had even given Wright the grand idea he needed saving. 

Ridiculous.

Miles groaned, starting to feel overwhelmed between the Wright conundrum and the issue of returning to Germany for the holidays. Both of these obstacles seemed like too much to deal with at the moment. Miles stood up and went to the window of his office, his head beginning to throb. It was much too early for a headache of this size to seize him. 

Miles hated the way his brain worked sometimes. It would be so easy to turn off for a while until he could devote the time to figuring out his own problems, and in the meantime focus entirely on work. But he had a feeling it was going to be impossible to focus on much with these other dilemmas fogging up his mind. 

He’d have to write letters back to both Wright and Franziska. 

No, he told himself. Prioritize. This is too much to think about at once. Break it down.  

He didn’t need to send a letter back to Wright. 

Miles hadn’t written him back in all this time, and it seemed as if Wright was done talking to him for now. He didn’t need to bother worrying about a response for that one. He could simply allow Wright to continue to think he was a demon prosecutor, and maybe at some point, Miles would have the courage to try and repair that relationship once Wright became a defense attorney.

So…that left the response to Franziska’s letter.

He stood at his window and looked at the world below him. Civilians were going about their daily lives, with their troubles being little more than what they were going to have for dinner that evening. Children with their parents…students with their friends out getting lunch…couples having coffee together…  

Their days were so simple compared to Miles’s days that were often filled with conspiracy, murder, and criminal investigations.

What did usual families do , or talk about during the holidays? How could he visit the von Karmas, maintain his good standing with Manfred von Karma and visit Franziska without the dread of constant criticism? 

It was a social time of year, not something Miles was particularly good with. Then again, neither were the von Karmas. But Miles might be able to utilize something from a more traditional family gathering…if he could bring in an outside influence to Christmas it might be easier to avoid the constant hounding and lectures from von Karma. And for Franziska’s sake…it could bring a sense of normalcy to their usual holidays.

His gaze returned to the letters laid out on the desk, as he continued to think about Franziska’s letter. The letter was sitting beside Wright’s. 

The smallest inkling of an idea began to develop in his mind.

Perhaps… perhaps this Wright situation could also be used to remedy the von Karma problem. He could address the issue of the letters Wright had been sending to him and, simultaneously, this…plan could act as an apology for putting off his correspondence for all these years. 

Yes, that would be efficient... 

It was insane. Truly. But if it worked…it may solve all of his problems.

He returned to his desk and pulled out a sheet of his own stationery, setting to work on a letter.

x

Phoenix returned to his small student apartment complex at 11pm after spending the evening in the campus library. Finals were coming up and Phoenix had managed to find a study group or two to help him prepare. He couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly behind everyone else. It was only his second term as a law student, since he had only just transferred to the law program completely back in the spring. 

While a chunk of his credits transferred, there was also a chunk that did not. Luckily, he had been dabbling in electives and other courses that could help him with a law degree before he made the switch. But he was stuck playing catch-up for now. 

It wasn’t so bad…after all, students came into the law program at all different times during university. Plus, he was lucky to already have a contact in the field who was willing to have him as an intern and eventually be hired on once he received his degree and passed the bar exam. 

Sure, he’d had a bad bit of luck with being framed for the murder of a fellow student and losing the supposed love of his life, but he was starting to get back on his feet and that contact—Mia Fey—was the definite upside to the whole ordeal. Phoenix believed that everything happened for a reason, and now he was back on the correct path in life. 

For now, however, all he wanted to do was crawl back to his apartment and make himself a small dinner before trying to get some sleep. Or perhaps he’d study a little more and cover one more chapter review before sleeping?

Before making a decision, he stopped in the communal area of his apartment building to check his mail. There were a few other students in the lobby area still awake, either chatting or studying. He hoped they’d all ignore him and not try to initiate a conversation. His brain did not want to make conversation at the moment. 

As he opened the small box, he saw all the usual junk mail. There was a flier in there from the law department about study sessions in the upcoming months to prep for finals. He tucked that away for future reference. 

The last thing he expected to see was an envelope with hand-lettered addresses on the front. In the corner where the return address was, there was neat, flowy handwriting spelling out the name ‘Miles Edgeworth.’

Phoenix dropped everything in his hands except the letter.

All the other mail he had been holding scattered across the floor and he made a dash for the stairs. He wanted to return to his apartment as quickly as possible so he could read the letter in peace. 

“Hey!” a student called, noticing the mess of junk mail that was now scattered on the floor. 

“Oh—s-sorry!” Phoenix breathed, sprinting back and collecting his mail that had been dropped. “Sorry! Th-Thanks!” he gasped before hurrying back towards the stairs. When he skidded to a halt in front of the door to his apartment, he nearly dropped his keys twice as he tried to let himself in. He threw his mail and things to the side as he entered, letting the mail scatter across his own floor. At least there it was only his problem and he promised himself he’d clean it up later.

Phoenix stood in the middle of his apartment and tore open the envelope with shaking hands and took out the letter. The hand-written letter.

He sighed in relief. 

He’d half expected the envelope to enclose a restraining order. 

After sending his last letter, Phoenix had almost regretted writing to Edgeworth.

Phoenix had gotten bold, thinking that—for sure—Edgeworth wasn’t reading the letters. The last letter or two had turned into more of a stream of consciousness recollection of what was going on in his life since it helped him sort through his own thoughts. He should have known better than to use correspondence with an old childhood friend as his own personal journal regardless of if Edgeworth was actually reading them or not. 

Phoenix realized telling his long-lost childhood friend that he intended to change his career path simply to meet him again because he wasn’t returning his letters was…beyond anything a normal person would do. Phoenix knew this and yet here he was…  

Instead, he was relieved to see not a restraining order, but an actual written response from Edgeworth himself.

Phoenix blinked several times at the neat and tidy handwriting on the paper and reread the letter once more to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. The fact that it was a letter from Edgeworth, to begin with, was incredible. The fact that he was apologizing for lack of replies and was even going so far as to ask for his help with something… 

What could he possibly need Phoenix’s help with? There wasn’t much Phoenix could think of that he’d be able to help Edgeworth with. But it must be something important if Edgeworth finally contacted him after all these years! Maybe it was easier now that Edgeworth was back in America? Maybe Edgeworth just didn’t want to deal with the international mail aspect of it?

Regardless, Phoenix was beyond excited to have finally heard from Edgeworth after all this time. 

It was so weird to finally have an actual response—something that Edgeworth had taken the time to sit down and write out in response to Phoenix’s own letter.

Phoenix dug through his bag to find a notebook with lined paper so he could begin writing out a reply to the letter.

x

Only a few days had passed since Miles had sent his letter to Wright. He had rewritten the letter no less than twenty times to correct his tone and attitude to something that might persuade Wright to want to reconnect. Since then, Miles had been both dreading and looking forward to a response from him.

Part of him feared that Wright would ignore him…it would certainly serve him a taste of his own bitter medicine. After all, Wright had bid him goodbye for the foreseeable future in his last letter. There was no guarantee that Miles would get a response back. Miles was most certainly not entitled to a response after all this time.

However, finally—a letter from Wright came across his desk.

Miles dropped the case he was working on—it was an open-and-shut high-profile robbery with the thief being caught in the act, not something he needed to fret too much about—and took the letter in his shaking hands. Miles opened the envelope.

All the tension he had been holding in his shoulders began to melt. 

Wright had actually responded. And not only that, he had responded enthusiastically to Miles’s request for help. 

Now Miles knew he had to go through with it. There was no way he could tell Wright “just kidding, don’t worry about it now.”

And now he had Wright’s email address. That would certainly make things easier. 

Very well, it was decided. He’d write an email to Wright this evening and make his proposal.

x

Later that evening, Miles sat in front of his laptop at his dining room table after he had eaten dinner. He had poured himself a glass of wine and sat before a daunting blank email composition.

He started with the greeting, but that’s as far as he got before his brain completely stalled. It didn’t have to be lengthy or detailed at first. This was just to test the waters. As he tentatively started writing his response, Miles continually second-guessed himself, deleted words, and rewrote sentences over and over again. Miles wrote and rewrote and rewrote for hours.

It wasn’t until well after midnight did he have a draft of an email that he was finally happy with. He took a deep breath and hit the send button. At least now he could put it out of his mind for the night.

x

Phoenix was just thinking that his textbook was looking like a warm inviting pillow before deciding he needed to take a break from studying. He’d been at it for over six hours since coming home after getting dinner at the dining hall. 

He was waiting on an email from a friend in another class who had been in one of Phoenix’s entry-level courses the semester before. She had offered to send along one of her old practice tests from that course for Phoenix to study from. Phoenix decided to open up his email to see if she had sent it along yet.

Instead, he was immediately distracted upon seeing an email from Edgeworth…and it had been sent only ten minutes ago? Phoenix double-checked the clock on his computer. It was 1:30am! He scrambled to open up the email and take a look.  

Phoenix could barely breathe as he read and re-read the email. He wasn’t sure if he was reading this correctly. A strange request was putting it simply. But…this could work if Miles really wanted to do this. 

He didn’t have plans for that holiday break—it wasn’t as if he had family he was going to visit over the holidays. Ever since he was young, he bounced around foster homes until he finally aged out of the system. There was no family to spend the holidays with. 

He did have a passport. A group of friends had been talking about a trip over spring break earlier that year, so he had made sure he had a passport just in case. 

Was it really okay for Miles to just…bring him along? He assumed that Miles’s adopted family didn’t know who he was, did they? Would it really make sense for Miles to bring him? There was no one else he could reach out to? Might as well ask, just to make sure Miles had thought this through. If he was sending an email at 1:30am maybe he was…a little desperate. 

Phoenix opened a reply window and set to work formulating a reply.

x

Miles was still wide awake when Phoenix’s reply email came through. 

He had tried to sleep. Of course, he had. After sending the email, he had put his computer away and gotten ready for bed. Upon slipping under the covers of his bed, though, every inkling of exhaustion had left his body and his mind began racing, thinking about every possible outcome of the email he had just sent. About the third time Miles checked his phone—for the time, he told himself. He was checking for the time, certainly not checking to see if Wright had replied back to him at this insane hour!—he realized Wright… Wright had already responded?   

He sat up in bed, unlocking his phone and opening the notification of a new email. He knew there was no way he was getting to sleep after seeing that Wright had already responded. Miles would lie awake just fretting about the response Wright had given him. Was it a good or bad sign that he had replied so quickly? He hoped it was the former. Perhaps this was an exciting offer for him and he was just so excited that he had replied quickly? Or perhaps it was too weird of a request and this was Wright quickly shutting him down.

Opening the email, he sighed as he began to read. 

Miles blinked at the response from Wright. It took him a couple of re-reads to let the words settle in. Okay, so it sounded like he was fine with the proposal and even seemed interested. 

But…he was concerned about the plan itself? Did he truly think the von Karmas would care one way or another who Miles brought? Well, Phoenix didn’t know anything about the von Karmas, so he supposed it was a valid assumption. The second to last sentence had tripped him up. Someone he was dating? After a moment of thought, he supposed that was also a valid idea, but where on earth did Phoenix get the idea that Miles was seeing anyone?

No, he’d have to tell him that wasn’t an option and see if Phoenix was still okay with coming along, regardless.

When Miles woke the next morning he decided to double-check his email and ensure last night was not just a strange dream he’d had after nodding off at his computer. Opening up his laptop, he refreshed the tab that his personal email was in and glanced at the recent thread with Wright. 

Had he really agreed to fake date Wright and bring him to Germany to confuse the von Karmas? Did Wright really agree to that? It was absurd. It was actually absurd. But it certainly would create a grand distraction, wouldn’t it? Miles could barely imagine von Karma’s reaction to him bringing Phoenix with him.

Well, before he booked tickets for them, he needed to reach out to von Karma and let him know that he would be back for the holidays. He double-checked the time it was in Germany at the moment before giving him a call. 

The phone rang a few times before he heard Manfred von Karma’s voice on the other line. 

“Yes, what is it?” von Karma answered the phone impatiently. 

“Good evening, sir, it’s Miles,” Miles replied. 

“Yes, I’m aware. What’s wrong?” von Karma asked. “What do you need?”

“Ah, I wanted to contact you about…well, Franziska has reached out to me about the holidays...”

“She did, did she?” von Karma asked, sounding almost bored with the conversation, perhaps even a bit of disappointment that the holidays weren’t going to pass by unnoticed. 

“Yes, she did,” Miles confirmed, feeling the irritation rising in his chest. “I would like to return to Germany for a short time this holiday to visit if that’s agreeable to you,” Miles continued. 

“Very well, I suppose it would be a good time for you to see each other. Perhaps you can offer her some advice. Some of her recent trials have been a bit of a mess—”

“Yes, of course, sir, but I’m also hoping to bring someone with me to enjoy the holidays,” Miles interrupted. Von Karma was already doing the thing Miles had anticipated—making it more of a business trip than a holiday visit. Suddenly, a feeling of relief swelled in his chest at the idea Wright had suggested. This ‘person he was dating’ scenario would be perfect .   

“What?” von Karma asked flatly. Miles wasn’t sure but he sounded like he’d been taken aback. “Who on earth are you bringing with you?”

“The…the person I’m dating,” Miles finally said. There was silence on the other end of the call.

“...Why are you—? You know I have no interest in meeting your friends or…romantic pursuits.”

“Oh, I’m well aware, sir. It’s just—”

“Don’t take that tone with me,” von Karma growled as if Miles was a child talking back to him. Miles gritted his teeth and continued the best he could without faltering. 

“You see, sir, this person is available during the holidays and has expressed interest in spending the holiday with me. I can pay for the extra expenses, plane tickets, and everything.”

“I…wasn’t even aware you were seeing anyone,” von Karma muttered in response, not exactly giving Miles an answer.

“Yes, well, I apologize sir. I never felt the need to disclose it to you. It isn’t… relevant to my career, so…” Miles replied coolly. “I am telling you now, though, as I hope to bring them with me this holiday season. Is it all right with you, sir?” 

“Very well. I don’t see the harm in it if you’re…paying their way,” von Karma decided, still sounding confused by the request. 

“Thank you, sir.” Miles nodded to himself, feeling his stomach tighten with nerves. “I’ll keep you updated as we get closer.” 

“Fine. Anything else?”

“No, sir,” Miles shook his head even though he knew Manfred couldn’t see him. “Please let Franziska know that I will be returning for the holidays.” 

“Yes, yes, very well,” von Karma sighed before hanging up. 

Miles took a deep breath as he hung up the call, gently rubbing his forehead trying to ease the headache that was coming on. 

Well, there was no backing out now. He was bringing Wright to the von Karmas that Christmas.

Chapter Text

Miles Edgeworth stood nervously outside of the baggage check, his eyes scanning the crowd at the airport. He and Wright had established a time and place to meet in the airport so Miles could get the boarding pass to him and they could figure out what to do from there.

However, it was beginning to dawn on Miles that he hadn’t seen Wright in over a decade. The image of the other man in his mind was the nine-year-old version of him. Would he even recognize the other man?

“Ah! Hey! Edgeworth!” a bright and cheery voice called,  pulling him out of his thoughts. “That’s you, right?”

Miles turned around and looked in the direction the voice was coming from before his eyes landed on a young man heading his way, waving. His dark hair was slicked back into recognizable spikes, just like he had worn when they were children, with only a few strands out of place. The other man was wearing a face mask and a bright red scarf over a wool-lined denim jacket that looked as if had suffered through many paint projects. There were some bright purple splotches on the arms of the jacket, some white splatters on the body of the coat, and one particularly drippy blob of orange paint on his right shoulder.

It was Wright. 

He pulled his suitcase up to where Miles was standing before reaching out to grab both of Miles’s hands within his own.

“Edgeworth, oh my gosh, wow, it’s been so long!” Wright said enthusiastically. “You look amazing! I mean, you know…I was worried I wouldn’t know what you looked like anymore, but it’s still you, isn’t it?” 

Despite the mask covering his face, Miles could see the broad smile that reached his eyes. 

Miles could only stammer as he tried to catch up to his thoughts and reply to Wright. He thought he was ready for this but judging by the flips his stomach was currently doing, he, by far, was not ready. 

“Hey, a-are you feeling okay?” Wright asked. “It is you , right? Please don’t tell me I’ve been talking to a stranger the past few seconds.”

“Y-Yes, Wright. I-It’s me and I’m fine. A-Are you okay?” Miles asked, deflecting the concern back to Wright, noting the mask. 

“Oh, this?” he pointed at the mask, “I just know my immune system is most likely shot after finals week—between not getting enough sleep and the stress…I figured I’d wear it to be safe,” Wright admitted sheepishly. Miles raised his eyebrows as he considered the explanation, then nodded. 

“A-Anyway, i-it’s good to see you again,” Miles stammered.

“Yeah, thanks again for inviting me! This will be fun!” Wright said, brightly.

“A-And, I thank you for agreeing to go with me. It’s…a bit of a foolish plan, but a foolish plan is better than nothing in terms of preparation. I appreciate it,” Miles said while avoiding eye contact. 

“Yeah, yeah! It was really nice of you to offer,” Wright said.

Miles twisted around and began sorting through his leather messenger bag to find the boarding pass for Wright. At least that gave him something to focus on. After he found it, he handed the pass to Wright before gesturing to the luggage check.   

“Shall we go ahead and check our luggage?” Miles offered, seeing the line starting to grow. 

“Oh, yeah, yeah, sure! Let’s jump in line,” Wright agreed. He led the short way to the queue. Once they had found their place in line, they fell into an awkward silence. Or at least Miles felt it was awkward. He wasn’t sure what Wright was thinking. His brain was in a scramble trying to find a topic of conversation. 

“So, how…how were your finals?” Miles finally asked. 

“Oh! Good, I think?” Phoenix replied, his hands clenching the straps of the backpack he wore. “I didn’t feel like I was too far out of my depth. I think all the cramming I did beforehand helped. So my brain could definitely use the vacation! I don’t think I’ll be able to think straight for the next week or two,” Wright joked.  “Guess I won’t be thinking straight for the next week, huh?” Phoenix laughed.

Miles tilted his head in confusion. 

“Y’know, cause I’m…gonna be your boyfriend. Therefore…not straight,” Wright snorted. 

Miles flushed and rolled his eyes.   

“Anyway—” Wright began listing out how the finals went for each course he was in. They all seemed like pretty entry-level law courses, but Miles reminded himself that Wright had just transferred into the law program that year. Wright continued to jovially talk about the study groups he’d been in and the practice exams he’d taken leading up to their finals. 

Miles was entranced by how enthusiastic he was about it all. The course load alone was enough to crush the spirits of any other student, but Wright was talking as if he were a child at an amusement park. He was so animated and enthusiastic that Miles noticed some other people in line for the baggage check were paying attention. 

For whatever reason, there was a small bubble of possessive jealousy that rose inside his chest. This passion was for Miles’s benefit only and the others that were there in line had no right to observe him. 

He was taken aback by that sudden surge of emotion and quickly stamped it out. He did at least allow himself to think, in the deepest recesses of his mind, that Wright had certainly grown up attractive. At least it wouldn’t be so hard to act as the man’s boyfriend. 

It wasn’t until Wright stopped speaking that Miles realized he wasn’t listening to what Wright was saying. 

No, it wasn’t that he wasn’t listening, he just wasn’t absorbing any of the words. 

Wright was looking at him expectantly as if he’d just asked a question and Miles cursed himself for not paying attention. 

“I-I beg your pardon?” Miles eked out. 

“You know, mock trials? Did you do any of those? What was your education like, by the way? You went to school in Germany, right? Is it different there? You’ve been a prosecutor for almost two years now, so that means you would have had to finish schooling—finish a law degree, no less—incredibly fast!” Wright continued. 

“Ah, yes, well. I did go to school there, yes. It helps when your mentor is one of the top prosecutors in the country. He was able to fast track my education and get me the connections I needed in order to establish my career before I was able to move back here.” 

“That’s incredible,” Wright breathed. “And here I thought I was ahead of the game because I’m already working as an intern for that defense lawyer…”

Before either of them could say anything further, they had reached the desk to check their luggage. The employees at the counter greeted them and tagged their luggage. They weighed it before moving it off to the conveyor belt behind them and once again he and Wright were on their own. 

Luckily, there wasn’t a need for conversation as they now needed to figure out the best way to proceed through the terminal.

When they arrived at security the line wasn’t quite as long as Miles had expected and he breathed a sigh of relief. As they made their way through, Miles checked the time and suggested they stop and get breakfast before they headed to the gate.

Once they were safely through security, Miles directed them toward the correct concourse.     

They stopped at a small coffee shop in the terminal to get some food and coffee while they waited to board the plane. After they ordered, they moved to the end of the counter to stand patiently while their coffee and food were prepared. 

“I meant to ask earlier.” Miles began, idly folding and unfolding the receipt for his breakfast, “which defense attorney are you working for? The one who defended you in the case you mentioned in your letter?” 

“Oh, yes! Mia Fey? She just left Marvin Grossberg’s office to start a law office of her own. Fey & Co. Law Office! She’s incredible!” 

Miles felt his blood run cold. Mia Fey. He knew her. Of course, he knew her. She was the defense lawyer that he had faced in his first case as a prosecutor. That nightmare of a case. And Wright was interning for her at her own law office? 

He shook himself out of his reverie. 

“Yes, I know of Miss Fey. She is…an impressive defense attorney,” Miles commented. 

“Wow, that’s so crazy you know who she is!” 

“I’m well aware of a lot of defense attorneys in the area since it’s possible we will be their adversary in court. It’s good to know their tactics.” 

“Yeah, I suppose that makes sense,” Wright said with a nod. “So what do you know about the chief—erm, Mia’s tactics, then?”

“I don’t think I feel the need to discuss that with her underling,” Miles replied stiffly. However, Miles couldn’t help but feel the corner of his mouth turn upwards upon seeing the frustration on Wright’s face. 

“Fine,” Wright huffed with a frown as his name was called for his order, and he went forward to pick up his coffee and breakfast sandwich. Not long after that, Miles’ own order was up and after picking it up, they made their way to the gate. 

They took a seat to wait for boarding and began to eat their food. Wright pulled down his mask and took his first sip of coffee. Finally, things didn’t feel as awkward as they both sat and consumed their breakfast in silence. 

Wright looked around the concourse, seemingly interested in watching other people. For how eager Wright was, Miles subconsciously wondered how many times Wright had been to the airport before.

He looked back to Miles as he finished taking another bite of his sandwich. 

“So,” Wright said before taking another quick sip of his coffee.

“So?” Miles asked, looking confused as Wright put his coffee down again.

“Well, we should probably make our plan of attack, right?” Wright asked, his expression going serious for a moment. 

“O-Our plan…?” Miles echoed.

“You’re the one who said we needed a plan! Y’know, a plan on how to go about this narrative you told your mentor. About us dating, right?” Wright reminded him. 

“Oh, right,” Miles nodded, feeling his cheeks begin to burn. Curse his body for giving him away like this. “I actually don’t really see the need for a plan . I strongly suspect von Karma won’t care one way or another about our relationship.” 

“Oh, we need a plan, otherwise he’s going to know something weird is up,” Wright explained. 

“Wright, you’re overthinking this,” Miles groaned. “I guarantee you he is not going to give it that much thought.” 

“Okay, so there’s the first thing. You should probably call me ‘Phoenix’ instead of ‘Wright,’” Wright said, shaking his head. “And I’ll call you Miles, okay?”

Miles’ stomach churned again upon hearing his given name from Wright…from Phoenix, he corrected himself. 

“O-Okay,” Miles muttered with a nod. “I suppose that makes sense.” 

“Good.” Phoenix mirrored his nod. “What else do we need to do to sell it…?”

“It really doesn’t have to be complicated. We’re not going to be interrogated about our relationship,” Miles said. 

“I know, but better safe than sorry, right?” Phoenix shrugged, sipping his coffee. 

“I suppose,” Miles sighed. 

“Okay, so, how do you feel about holding hands?” Phoenix asked. 

“I-I beg your pardon?” Miles sputtered. 

“You know…since we’re going to be boyfriends?” Phoenix added, his own cheeks going a little pink. Miles was relieved it wasn’t just him, flushing at the absurdity of this conversation—of this whole situation. Why had they ever agreed to do something so foolish?

“Yes, I…I suppose that’s okay,” Miles said, folding his arms across his chest in a subconscious gesture. 

“Hm…” Phoenix frowned as he fell back into thought. “Pet names? Like you could call me ‘Feenie’? And…what could I use for you…?”

“W-Wait, no, no, no— I am absolutely not calling you Fe—that,” Miles protested, refusing to even say the ridiculous pet name. “And you calling me Miles is just fine, thank you.” 

“Heh, I suppose it’s probably a good idea to keep things realistic at least. Even if we were actually dating, you probably wouldn’t use pet names, huh?”

“No, absolutely not,” Miles confirmed. “That’s childish.”

“Okay, okay,” Phoenix chuckled. “Any other displays of physical affection that should be completely off the table?” Phoenix asked. 

Miles hesitated for a moment. He hadn’t thought about it. He didn’t think they’d actually…but no, Phoenix was right. They couldn’t raise any suspicion, otherwise, both von Karma and Franziska would find out and give him hell for this ridiculous plan. That would be at least a hundred times more embarrassing.  

“A-As I said, I don’t believe anything more than what we’ve discussed will be needed, but…I’ll…let you know if I’m uncomfortable. You’ll do the same, right?” Miles said. 

Phoenix began to laugh and he nodded in acknowledgement. 

“Wh-What’s so funny?” Miles asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 

“Oh, nothing. Sorry, I—erm, I guess it’s just, I can’t imagine you’d do anything I’m uncomfortable with.”

“W-What on earth does that mean?”

“Uh, r-right, it’s nothing. I’m just… y’know, I’m a very physically affectionate kind of guy, and I don’t mean any offense by it, but you don’t seem like the type to be that way. So, I suppose I don’t have as many boundaries as you…might…have?” Phoenix said as his voice began to go up an octave or two. 

“O-Oh,” Miles stammered. He felt a mix of defiance and embarrassment flood through him. Phoenix was right… how was he right? How did he have him so figured out after so long apart? 

It wasn’t that he didn’t… like physical affection. It just didn’t help that after his father died, he didn’t necessarily grow up in the most physically affectionate household. Between that and finishing his education among peers who were not his age, plus the fact that he was at the top of his class, he’d effectively been an outcast from his classmates. He’d had no opportunities to hone his social skills…something, he loathed to admit, he already had issues with. 

“H-Hey, it’s okay! I know not everyone is open to affection like I am, it’s okay!” Phoenix spoke into his thoughts as if he heard everything that was flitting through Miles’s mind. Miles felt a scorch of anger flare through him for a moment. He didn’t need Phoenix’s pity. He didn’t need Phoenix thinking he was weak because of it either. 

“It’s fine, Wright,” Miles said tersely. “I’ll…let you know if it becomes an issue.”

“Okay, good!” Phoenix nodded with a smile. “And remember, it’s Phoenix.”  

Miles clenched his teeth and rolled his eyes. Luckily, they were interrupted by the calls to begin boarding. 

“Come on, let’s go line up to board,” Miles stood up. 

“Wait, what group are we?” Phoenix asked. 

“We’ll be among the first,” Miles said. 

“Oh!” Phoenix looked down at his boarding pass before jumping up and following Miles over to where the line was starting to build. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in one of the first boarding parties when I’ve flown…” Phoenix said almost just talking to himself. 

“Well—perks of first-class,” Miles said with a subtle shrug. 

“Wait, we’re flying first-class?” Phoenix asked, his eyes growing huge. 

“Yes…is…that a problem?” Miles asked, wondering if it was a mistake to not tell Phoenix this before now.

“N-No! Just—wow. Wow, I didn’t think we would be—the von Karmas really do come from money, huh?” Phoenix laughed to himself. 

Miles bit the inside of his cheek, debating on whether or not to admit it wasn’t von Karma’s money paying for the flight—it was his own hard-earned money. He had debated flying business class since he was purchasing two tickets, but he decided it was worth it to have the comfort of flying first class. It was also a nice way of thanking Phoenix for helping him out, but Phoenix didn’t need to know that… 

He was still feeling a little bitter from their conversation earlier, so Miles decided to keep it short with the other man. 

Boarding began and eventually they made their way down the long ramp and onto the plane with the others in their boarding group. Miles led the way and found their seats, stopping in front of them as other people began to sift around them to find their own seats.

“This is it?” Phoenix raised his eyes at the wide, comfortable looking seats.  

“Yes,” Miles shrugged off his bag and began to stow it above them.

Phoenix slung his own bag off his shoulder so he could hold onto it.

“Would you like the window seat?” Miles asked as he finished securing his carry-on above them. 

“Really? Are you sure?” Phoenix asked. 

“Yes…I’ve done this flight several times, so I don’t need the window. Would you like it, or do you prefer to be on the outside?” Miles asked.

“No, I’ll take the window! I’m so excited!” Phoenix said as he moved into the seats to start to get comfortable, still clutching his bag in his arms.

“Do you need me to put your bag up here?” Miles offered before sitting down.

“Nah, I’ll keep it with me, thanks,” Phoenix said as he tucked his bag away under the seat in front of him. Miles took a seat and began to get comfortable. 

“I know I’ve said it a couple of times now, but really—thanks again for inviting me along. This is really fun. I actually haven’t actually been outside of the country before.” 

“Oh?” Miles perked up. His stomach began churning again, realizing that the gesture he had made to invite Phoenix along was much grander than he had first realized. “I’m—I’m glad I invited you, then. I was a little worried since it was during the Christmas holidays and I know that’s a hard time for people…”

“No, actually it’s really welcome. I don’t have anything else going on this time of year and, well, it’s nice to have a distraction. I spent last holiday with my ex, so I feel like I’d inevitably end up alone and just thinking about her, so…I mean, not that they were necessarily bad memories, but she was…well, kind of part of that trial I was caught up in back in the spring, and those are…not some great memories. Anyway, I’m…I’m sorry, I’m turning into one of those annoying people who talk about their ex to their new partner, huh?” Phoenix chuckled softly but there was a certain pain behind his expression.

“Not to worry,” Miles replied stiffly, unsure how to respond. “We’re…not actually dating, so it’s fine.” 

“Right, right, but I know it can still be annoying. So please let me know if I am annoying you with things like that, okay?” Phoenix offered. 

“It’s…fine, Phoenix,” Miles said, practicing using the other man’s given name. 

“Hey look at that! You remembered to use my name!” Phoenix grinned. “Thanks, Miles,” Phoenix nodded, smiling at him. They fell into silence as the other passengers began to board. 

It wasn’t long before everyone had boarded and they were preparing to take off. 

When the plane finally pulled away from the gate and began to taxi, Phoenix excitedly looked out the window. 

Miles allowed himself a small smile at Phoenix’s excitement when the other man was turned away. 

x

Fourteen hours later, they arrived in Germany. Phoenix was beyond eager to get off the plane simply to stretch his legs and walk around more than the few times he got up to use the bathroom. 

They collected their things and began to file off the plane, up the ramp and into the airport. 

Phoenix was so overwhelmed as he looked around. He reached out to hold onto Miles’s arm, tucking his hand in the crook of his elbow. Miles twitched at the touch, but he didn’t pull away. Eventually they found themselves at baggage claim to pick up their luggage. 

Once their luggage had been claimed, Phoenix realized Miles hadn’t said anything about how they were getting a ride from the airport. Surely Miles had a plan?

“The driver should be here by now,” Miles remarked as if he could hear Phoenix’s thoughts.

“The driver?” Phoenix echoed.

“The von Karmas have a driver. I was told he should be here to pick us up,” Miles explained. 

“O-Oh, wow, okay,” Phoenix stammered. A driver? The von Karmas were even richer than he thought!

“Ah.” Miles froze in place as he spotted someone outside of baggage claim.

“What’s up?” Phoenix frowned. “Did you see your driver?”

“Hm,” Miles sighed in response. Before Phoenix could inquire any further, there was a loud voice from across the baggage claim. 

“Miles Edgeworth!” a teenaged girl who couldn’t be more than fifteen years old called out. Phoenix raised his eyebrows in surprise. Surely that wasn’t their driver. She didn’t even seem old enough to have a learner’s permit. 

Now the girl was approaching them and Miles wasn’t giving any other reaction. 

“Why are you here, Franziska?” Miles finally asked in a tight voice.

“Papa said you were bringing a guest. I wanted to know who it was,” the girl said as she tapped the palm of her hand with a riding crop. Her gaze shifted to Phoenix, who hesitantly waved. 

“No, you’re here to cause trouble,” Miles replied, in a slightly annoyed voice.

“Hey, Miles, who’s this?” Phoenix asked after observing them for a moment.

“She’s—” 

“I’m Franziska von Karma!” the girl—Franziska declared, snapping her riding crop for emphasis. “Miles Edgeworth’s big sister.” 

Phoenix froze for a moment as his brain tried to run the mental exercises to parse what she meant. 

“Big…?” Phoenix muttered. 

“Just play along. Otherwise, she’ll be insufferable,” Miles explained, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Ah, right, okay,” Phoenix sighed. “I’m Phoenix Wright, Miles’s boyfriend! It’s nice to meet you!” 

“Hm.” Franziska frowned. “Phoenix Wright?” She crossed her arms across her chest, mirroring Miles,  and simply stared at Phoenix, making him incredibly uncomfortable. It was as if she was judging every aspect of his character all at once, just by glaring. Though, Phoenix conceded, fifteen-year-olds always seemed to be able to do that.  

“Excuse me, sirs, would you be requiring any assistance getting your luggage to the car?” a man appeared behind Franziska. Miles seemed to recognize the man and greeted him in German. After a bit of back and forth with the man and Franziska, Miles turned back to Phoenix. 

“Are we good?” Phoenix asked softly, glancing between Miles and the driver.

“Yes, Mikael said the car isn’t far,” Miles said. “Then we’re about forty minutes away from the von Karma estate.” 

Phoenix nodded as he followed the others out of the airport and along the line of cars outside, finding the black SUV that the group was leading them to. 

As they got into the car. Phoenix looked around in awe at the impressive interior. The back seat was arranged so that the two rows of seats were facing one another. Franziska settled into the seat facing backward as Miles and Phoenix settled into the two seats facing forward. 

“This is…quite the car,” Phoenix chuckled to himself. 

“Yes, Papa had it custom made. It helps him when he needs to hold meetings with detectives or witnesses on the way to the courthouse,” Franziska said smugly, clearly pleased that Phoenix was so blown away by the interior.

“Wow,” Phoenix breathed. 

After loading their luggage into the car, the driver—Mikael, was his name?—returned to the driver’s seat and they were off. 

Franziska sat and stared at the two of them and Phoenix suddenly very much wished that the other row of seats was facing the other way. 

After a few painful moments of silence, she spoke up. 

“So, you’re dating my brother?” 

“A-Ah, yeah,” Phoenix nervously scratched the back of his neck. “H-He’s great, huh?” 

“Franziska—” Miles said in a warning tone before saying something else in German. She looked indignant and huffed something back in German as well. 

Phoenix suddenly felt the need to start studying up on German.  

They fell silent once again. 

“So, then, Phoenix Wright. What are your intentions with my little brother?” Franziska asked with an innocent tone of voice. 

“Franziska!” 

“O-Oh! You’re protective of him, huh?” Phoenix asked, actually finding it rather sweet. 

“No, of course not,” Franziska denied, her own cheeks burning a little as she clenched her riding crop in both hands, bending it a bit in frustration. “It’s not that, you fool. I need to know whether you’ll be marrying into the von Karma name or not.” 

Phoenix felt as if his heart had dropped into the pit of his stomach. 

“ Oh, for— Franziska!” Miles hissed once more. “That hardly matters! No one is marrying into the von Karma name. He’ll be marrying into the Edgeworth name, should the…ah, erm—” Miles seemed to realize what he was arguing “...sh-should the occasion arise.”

And now Phoenix felt his heart leap back up into his throat. They…they hadn’t exactly discussed who would be taking whose name in marriage when they sussed out the parameters of their fake relationship.

“So? That doesn’t matter. Your legacy is still connected to our name—” Phoenix could barely keep up with the conversation happening. First, he was told he’s going to take Miles’s last name in their fake relationship marriage, and now, this teenager was talking about family legacy…it was all too much. 

“Hey, hold on,” Phoenix said as his thoughts caught up to him. “Wait. Why can’t you become a Wright, Miles?” Phoenix asked. 

“As Franziska just stated, I do have a reputation. The name stays, dear,” Miles said. Phoenix felt his stomach tighten, hearing Miles refer to him as “dear.” 

He…hadn’t been expecting that. They’d only just established less than eighteen hours ago that Miles wouldn’t be using pet names of any sort. Then again, he was trying to sell the fake relationship to Franziska, right?

“Fine, Mr. Hotshot Prosecutor,” Phoenix huffed, feeling oddly wronged by the idea Miles wouldn’t even consider taking his last name in this fake scenario. It was ridiculous. But then again, it needed to feel authentic for Franziska’s sake, right?

“Look, you’re already causing problems, Franziska.” Miles turned his attention back to his sister. The tension in the air was almost painful as Phoenix began to fidget with his fingers.

“Me? Fix your own broken relationship, Miles Edgeworth! ” Franziska snapped, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. 

“Miles, I’m kidding, really,” Phoenix said, reaching out and taking his hand. “I’m just giving you a hard time. Besides, we have plenty of time to figure out who is taking whose name.” Phoenix gently stroked his thumb along MIles’s hand. “Right?”

“R-Right,” Miles murmured as he slumped back in his seat. 

The rest of the car ride back was silent, but Phoenix was enjoying watching the scenery pass by them. He always loved looking out the window on long trips. Especially here, where it was all brand new to him. It wasn’t long until they started to see more rural scenery and eventually they turned down the long, private driveway leading up to von Karma's impressive estate. 

“Wow…” Phoenix sighed as they pulled up in front of the grand front door. Another member of the staff came out to greet them—by the looks of it, he seemed like a butler . Miles had talked about the place they’d be staying in before they arrived, but this was still above and beyond Phoenix’s expectations. 

The door was opened for them and Franziska was the first one to slide out of the car. Phoenix followed, with Miles coming out of the car behind him. 

“Should we…?” Phoenix gestured towards the back of the car where their luggage was stowed. 

“Not to worry, sir, your luggage will be brought inside shortly,” the butler addressed him.  

“O-Oh, thanks!” Phoenix stammered with a little wave to the butler to acknowledge that he heard him. 

“Phoenix, come on.” Miles gestured for Phoenix to hurry up and follow them. Nervously stepping into the manor, Phoenix felt that it was—in every way—just as intimidating as this family and Phoenix hadn’t even met Miles’s mentor yet. 

After they entered, Phoenix followed them towards a sitting room where an older man in an extravagant outfit sat. His navy blue suit was embroidered and embellished and, suddenly, Miles wearing the cravat he did made sense. Von Karma wore an even more outlandish cravat himself. He was sitting with his legs crossed and sipped his tea as he read through the paper.   

“Good afternoon, sir,” Miles said as they entered the room. Franziska had already crossed the room and began preparing herself a cup of tea from the tray on the table in front of the man. 

The man finally looked up. He looked up and did a double-take looking between Phoenix and Miles. 

“Who is this? ” he asked, in almost a strained voice. 

“Wait, did you not tell him?” Phoenix whispered, letting go of Miles’s hand so he could hide behind him, suddenly feeling ten times more terrified than he had been. “I thought you said that you did!”

“What? Yes, of course, I did,” Miles hissed back over his shoulder. “Sir, this is the person I’m dating, Phoenix Wright—my guest…my, erm, b-boyfriend. Wri—Ph-Phoenix, this is my mentor and the man who took me in after my father’s death—Manfred von Karma.” 

“H-Hi, sir!” Phoenix squeaked, before finding his voice again. “I-It’s wonderful to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from Miles,” Phoenix said, wincing a bit at the lie he was telling. He knew next to nothing about this man. Suddenly he wondered if von Karma could read minds. The man was completely still, his face frozen in a grimace. The only sound in the room was Franziska sipping at her freshly poured tea, a small smile curling around the lip of her cup. 

“Sir?” Miles asked when the tension couldn’t get any higher. 

“What?” von Karma asked, barely moving his lips. 

“Is everything okay, sir?” Miles asked, fighting down the urge to smirk. “If I must remind you, I did inform you that I was bringing a guest and you said you were alright with that.” 

There was more silence. 

Miles couldn’t help but feel extremely pleased . Everything was going precisely to plan. At this rate, Miles hoped to avoid the lectures altogether and von Karma would simply refuse to talk to them for the rest of their trip. 

“Of course. Just make sure he doesn’t cause any trouble,” von Karma finally said, talking about Phoenix as if he were a troublesome pet with a history of destroying furniture. 

“Of course, sir,” Miles nodded, slightly bowing a bit. 

“Would you like me to ensure that they get settled in, in the guest wing?” Franziska asked, setting the tea back down on the table and standing up. 

“Yes, please. Thank you, Franziska,” von Karma said, his gaze returning to the newspaper. Franziska came over to Miles’s side, grabbing his hand to lead him out of the room. Without thinking, Miles reached out and grabbed hold of Phoenix’s hand again to tug him along. 

Phoenix followed after them, clasping Miles’s hand quite tightly. 

“Where are we going, Franziska? Do we really need to stay in the guest wing ?” Miles asked as they left the parlor where von Karma had been. “What about where my old room was? Can’t we stay there?” 

“Sorry, little brother. Those rooms have been changed over. My home office is there now,” Franziska said with a shrug. “But don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be much more comfortable in the guest wing. I can get you set up in a nice room there.”

“Room, singular? Franziska…” Miles groaned. They turned down another corridor, one that Miles had rarely seen during his time at the estate. 

“You’re dating, right? That’s not a problem, is it?” she asked innocently. The way she said it, Phoenix could tell she wasn’t buying the whole ‘boyfriend’ story they were trying to sell. Instead, it felt like she was trying to make Miles as uncomfortable as possible until he gave up the ruse. Phoenix wondered whether or not Miles would fall for it.

“N-No, I just thought your father would be…more insistent about…w-well—propriety,” Miles replied in a hushed tone.

“It can be our little secret.” Franziska turned and pressed a finger to her lips as she continued to lead them down the grand hallway until they stopped just outside a door to what Phoenix assumed led into their guest room.

“Why are you doing this, Franziska? You always like to cause problems more than you like to help,” Miles sighed, not turning toward the door yet.

“Well, perhaps I’m turning over a new leaf,” Franziska suggested. “Just be a grateful, little brother,” she added as she pointed her riding crop at him.

“Thank you so much, I’m so happy Miles and I will get to share our room. So I appreciate it, Franzy!” Phoenix frantically tried to avert the trouble Miles was causing. This line of questioning could only get them in trouble.

“It’s not Franzy, it’s Franziska, Phoenix Wright!” Franziska protested.

“O-Oh, right, my apologies!” Phoenix chuckled nervously. “Thank you very much, Franziska von Karma!” Phoenix bowed his head with a mock seriousness. 

“Are you making fun of me?” 

“Franziska, leave him alone,” Miles stepped in. “Please, will you let us recover from our flight? Especially Phoenix—he’s particularly fatigued since he is not used to long flights. We’ll see you tonight at dinner, okay?”

“Fine.” Franziska folded her arms across her chest before disappearing.

Miles ushered Phoenix into the guest suite Franziska had shown them to and closed the door behind them. Phoenix took the time to put his carry-on bag beside the bed as he looked around the beautiful room. 

“Oh, my God,” Miles breathed as he ran a hand down his face. 

“Hey, you okay?” Phoenix asked, turning around to look at Miles. 

“Yes, it’s just…I didn’t expect her to be so troublesome,” Miles explained as he began to pace the room. “I should have, in hindsight. I know she likes to stick her nose into things.” 

“She’s cute, though,” Phoenix chuckled. 

“That’s only because you don’t know her,” Miles sighed, gesturing with his hands. “Of course she already knows something odd is going on.”

“O-Oh, you think so?” Phoenix asked, even though the same thought had already crossed his mind.

“Giving us the one guest room simply out of the goodness of her heart? Her questions on the way home? Yes, she knows something about this situation is…wrong,” Miles sighed.

“Are…are you going to fess up then? About this whole thing?” Phoenix asked. 

“What? Of course not!” Miles vehemently denied, shaking his head as his pacing picked up in speed. “It would be thoroughly embarrassing to admit that I brought you here under false pretenses just as a distraction to avoid talking about work. I can practically hear her now, ‘ You are pathetic, Miles Edgeworth!’”

Phoenix snorted to himself. 

“Okay, that’s fine. Why don’t we take a breath?” Phoenix reached out to grab hold of Miles’s elbow to stop him from pacing a hole in the floor. 

“Yes, fine.” Miles took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. After a moment of silence and deep breathing, Phoenix spoke up again.

“Really, Miles, why did you come back for Christmas at all? After moving back to the states, it’d be easy to avoid, right? At least international travel gives you a decent excuse to not have to come back every year. They’re not exactly your biological family. And even if they were, you don’t owe them a visit if they don’t make you happy,” Phoenix said softly. 

“They’re not biological, no. And to be honest, I would very much prefer to live out of von Karma’s shadow. But it’s not that easy,” Miles admitted quietly before going to sit on the edge of the bed, still facing where Phoenix was standing. However, he dropped his head in his hands. 

“Okay,” Phoenix sighed with a nod, not sure what to say. “I can’t say I understand but…what about Franziska?” 

“What about her?” Miles asked, looking up in confusion. 

“She might be one of the reasons you wanted to come home this holiday, right?” Phoenix asked. 

“I…I suppose I do worry for her. So when she asked if I was visiting for Christmas…I couldn’t refuse her,” Miles continued, rubbing his temple. “How did you know?” he asked. 

“Well, you said that von Karma was a big time prosecutor and would only want to talk about work, right?” Phoenix asked as he began to fidget with his fingers. “If you really wanted to avoid the situation, you probably would have just told him you weren’t coming home for the holidays and avoid the headache of traveling.” 

Miles sighed and nodded in agreement, hanging his head again and massaging his temples. Now, Phoenix began to pace back and forth a bit as he collected his thoughts.

“So, if that’s the case, there was another reason why you wanted to come back and visit. It was to see her. Simple. I mean if you grew up with her…you must miss her since you moved back.” 

“I-I—yes, you are…partially correct,” Miles sighed, looking up at Phoenix once again. “I didn’t want to completely avoid coming here. I wanted to see her because I know that she won’t remember to take the time to be a teenager. She’s already so embroiled in her career…so I thought if I—if we were here…”

“W-Wait, her career? Doesn’t she just go to school like other kids?” Phoenix asked, pausing his pacing to stand and stare, unsure if he had heard Miles correctly or not. 

Miles sighed and shook his head. 

“No, not as a von Karma. She already has a prolific career as a prosecutor here in Germany.”

Phoenix laughed out loud. “You’re joking.” 

“Do I look like I am?” Miles growled with a creased brow. “I told you, my mentor’s family consisted of prosecutors—meaning plural. Multiple prosecutors.”

“Wait, no, how on earth is she a prosecutor ? You’re telling me she’s already taken the bar exam!?” Phoenix asked, his smile faltering. 

“Yes. Passed with high marks, in fact,” Miles said, nodding solemnly. 

“N-No, that’s…” Phoenix reached a hand to his forehead in disbelief.

“Wright, I already told you how having von Karma as a mentor boosted my own education and career? The same privilege applies to her, as she’s his daughter.”

“Yeah, he boosted your career by a few years!” Phoenix said, feeling more frantic than before and gesturing wildly with his arms. “He can seriously get a child into the position of prosecutor at her age? How old is she anyway!?”

“She’s fourteen, almost fifteen, I believe,” Miles said. “She began prosecuting around the same time I did.” 

“No, no, no, you are not telling me they had a thirteen-year-old in court as a prosecutor.” 

“I am. She’s gifted, too,” Miles continued. “Obviously, she’d have to be to uphold a career like she has.” 

“My god,” Phoenix sighed as he collapsed on the bed beside where Miles was sitting. “They do things differently in Germany, don’t they?”

Miles simply shrugged. 

There was a knock on the door. 

“Yes, come in,” Miles called out clearly so the person behind the door could hear. 

“Good afternoon, sirs. I’ve brought your luggage from the car,” the butler greeted—the one that Phoenix had seen outside. 

“Excellent, thank you, Hans,” Miles said, nodding curtly. 

“Do you require anything else before dinner?” Hans asked. 

“No, thank you,” Miles replied, shaking his head. 

“Very well, don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything,” Hans said before seeing himself out of the room, closing the door behind him. 

“I suppose we should see about unpacking.” Miles got up and stepped forward to pull both of their suitcases further into the room. 

“Unpacking?”

“You know, for the week?” MIles said, looking awkward.

“Oh, I mean, I was just planning on pulling things out as they were needed,” Phoenix responded with a shrug. 

“And leave them wrinkled? You can’t even see what you packed if you leave them in there,” Miles refuted with an exasperated look on his face. 

“I have a pretty good idea of what’s in here. I’m the one who packed it after all,” Phoenix protested. Miles looked like he wanted to argue, but held back. 

“Wait,” Miles paused, “before we unpack, do you want me to see about finding you another room to sleep in?” 

“Huh? Oh, it doesn’t bother me. Besides, you’ll be tipping Franziska off to the fact that there’s something weird going on if you ask for another room, right?” Phoenix suggested. “But…if you’re uncomfortable with it, I’ll take another room.” 

Miles seemed to tense for a moment as he considered this. Phoenix truly didn’t want to trouble Miles, but he should have at least planned for something like this, right?

“No, of course I’m not uncomfortable with it,” Miles argued before Phoenix could continue to offer suggestions. 

“Okay. I can at least sleep on the floor, if you’d like?” Phoenix continued, offering Miles an alternative that wouldn’t make him uncomfortable but keep up appearances. “It might be for the best. I kind of move around in my sleep a lot.” 

“If you’re sure…after dinner tonight, I can find a rollout futon for you to use,” MIles said, looking a little relieved. 

“Oh, that’d be nice, actually. I was just thinking about rolling out an extra blanket on the floor,” Phoenix said with a weak chuckle. 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, I’m not letting you sleep on the bare floor like that in my mentor's grand estate,” Miles huffed, shaking his head. “Now, can we unpack? We can split the drawers and the wardrobe space.” 

“Yeah, yeah, okay, if you insist,” Phoenix said. 

“I do,” Miles said, opening his own suitcase.

They spent the next half an hour unloading their things into the antique chest of drawers and the wardrobe. Phoenix gave up about half-way through and laid sprawled on the floor, resting his eyes for a moment. His mind felt empty as he laid there with his eyes closed. Phoenix was pretty sure he could fall asleep right then and there. He didn’t want to move, let alone think about attending dinner with Miles’s family or unpacking the last of his things. At this point, it’d probably be a miracle if he was able to pull himself up off the floor any time soon. 

“Wright, what are you doing?” Miles asked, when he realized Phoenix was no longer unpacking. 

“Resting,” Phoenix replied, his eyes remaining shut. “Jet lag is no joke, huh? I feel like I could go to bed now and it’s only what, early evening? What time is it? I don’t even know anymore.” 

“It doesn’t look like you’re done unpacking,” Miles remarked, glancing into Phoenix’s luggage.

“What’s even the point if we just have to pack it all up in a week?” Phoenix groaned. “I unpacked what I needed to. The rest can stay in my suitcase.” 

“Wright, what on earth is this?” Miles leaned forward and plucked a bright pink sweater from the depths of Phoenix’s suitcase.

“What?” Phoenix opened his eyes and sat up. “Oh.” 

His stomach dropped. He hadn’t thought that Miles would see that sweater packed away just yet. Phoenix hadn’t even decided whether or not he would wear it, but he had packed it as it was one of the warmest things he owned, but considering the history of that sweater in particular…

“ Oh? You can’t seriously say you were planning on wearing this at any point this week,” Miles frowned, holding the pink sweater at arm’s length as if it would attack him. “This is hideous.”

“Well…i-it’s cozy…and I figured it’d be cold here in Germany…colder than it is at home, at least. So in case, I thought…it’s one of my only sweaters, so…”  Phoenix muttered, his shoulders hunching inward as he avoided Miles’s gaze. Nervously, he began to pick at his fingernails to distract himself. 

“Oh, my God, Wright…” Miles put the sweater down and glanced through the other things left in the suitcase, panic beginning to flare in his voice. “What is the nicest thing you brought?”

“Huh? Why?” Phoenix asked. 

“Surely you’re not wearing that to dinner,” Miles gestured to what Phoenix was currently wearing. “Or this, for that matter?” Miles held up the pink sweater. 

“Well…I mean you brought me because you wanted me to be a distraction from work talk, right…” Phoenix said sheepishly. “So…this will be okay, right? This is a distraction?” 

“No, no, no,” Miles groaned as he shook his head. “This was a mistake.” 

“Miles, you didn’t tell me to pack fancy clothes!” Phoenix protested. 

“I thought it was implied!” Miles argued. 

“I’m a poor art student! I m-mean—law student, whatever! It doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have money for nice clothes!” Phoenix exclaimed, feeling flustered. He could feel his face flushing in both embarrassment and anger. How could Miles have just sprung this on him? There had been no mention of dressing up special! This was going to be an absolute disaster.

“Okay, I can fix this…” Miles breathed as he sorted through the last of Phoenix’s things in his suitcase. “There’s got to be something salvageable in here.”  

Phoenix nervously watched as Miles sorted through the clothes packed in the suitcase. Was it really that bad? Anxiety pooled in Phoenix’s stomach. Seeing Miles, who had been mostly calm and collected up until this point, suddenly panicking quite badly made Phoenix uneasy. Eventually, Miles decided on a simple combo of a long sleeved maroon shirt with the darkest pair of jeans Phoenix had packed. 

“Yeah, that doesn’t look bad,” Phoenix said encouragingly, but Miles still paced the room. 

Miles returned to his own collection of clothes and began to sort through them. 

“Hey, Miles…? Is this…is this good? Are you just looking for your own clothes now?” Phoenix asked, picking up the clothes Miles had chosen. 

“Hold on, I’m looking through my own things to see if there’s anything you could wear that would work better,” Miles explained. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m sure you packed just enough clothes for this week, and so I don’t want to disturb your schedule of outfits, y’know?” Phoenix assured him. 

“Yes, but—” Miles turned around again, seeing Phoenix holding his clothes, looking nervous. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. This is good,” Phoenix nodded, holding them up. “I’ll go get changed now. Where is the washroom?”

“Across the hall,” Miles said, waving him out of the room. 

“Uh, do you mind if I take a shower too?” 

“Please do,” Miles said. “There should be extra towels folded and stacked in there. I believe there’s still a hair dryer in the cabinet below the sink as well, if you need it.”

“A-Ah, thanks!” Phoenix said with a nod and left the room to change out of the clothes he had worn on the plane and into the outfit handpicked by Miles. 

Phoenix stepped out of the bedroom and looked down the hallway for a door across from their room. Peeking into the closest door to their room, he was relieved to find the bathroom. He found the light switch and entered, shutting the door behind him. Phoenix looked around, the first thing catching his eye was the busy floral wallpaper decorating the top half of the room. The bottom half had wooden wainscoting and the floor was made up of small tiles. 

He put his clothes down on the vanity countertop. Phoenix looked around before finding some shelving with a few folded up towels on them. He reached for one and hung it up on a hook near the clawfoot tub. Pulling the shower curtain to the side, Phoenix checked the faucet on the tub. He tried turning one of the knobs and the water began to pour from the faucet. Once it reached the ideal temperature, he began fiddling with the knobs trying to get the water to come out of the shower spigot. It was different from every other faucet Phoenix had used before. 

Phoenix felt completely useless as he continued to fight against the spigot. He was going to feel humiliated if he had to go and ask Miles how to work the shower. Surely he was missing something! Finally, when he was just about to give up, something clicked and the water began to fall from the shower head. 

Phoenix shed his clothing and stepped into the shower, letting the steam and hot water wash over him. He could have stood under that water faucet for hours, but he was keenly aware they were on a schedule and had to be dressed and ready to go down for dinner very soon. 

As the water continued to pour over him, Phoenix took a few deep breaths and willed his nerves to calm down. Dinner drew near and Phoenix was beginning to worry again. Just the few moments he had spent with Miles’s mentor were incredibly intimidating. Now, thinking about being at dinner with the man while being underdressed was a stressful prospect. But he had promised Miles that he was going to do this for him, so there was no backing out now. He was already here—he might as well make the most of the opportunity given to him. It wasn’t every day he was offered free trips to Europe. 

He sighed as he turned off the water and toweled off, rubbing at his hair, trying to wring as much water out of it as possible.

After he pulled on the fresh clothes, he found the hair dryer Miles had mentioned. He frowned a bit at the plug at the end of the cord. Phoenix had forgotten that the electrical plugs in this country would be different from back home. He idly wondered if Miles had brought some converters for things like their phone chargers. Phoenix went ahead and plugged it in, and then attempted to dry his hair. 

Once most of the dampness had dried he did his best to tame his wild locks, pushing it back and ensuring there were no flyaways. Finally satisfied with his look, Phoenix collected his dirty laundry and left the bathroom. 

“Okay, I’m ready,” Phoenix said as he entered the room. He found Miles already changed into his burgundy suit coat and slacks. He was finishing up the look, standing in front of the mirror tying his ridiculous cravat around his neck. The coat itself had some black accents but was mostly plain. Phoenix silently thought to himself that Miles looked pretty good. But those thoughts quickly morphed into fretting about how out of place Phoenix looked next to Miles. “Oh…you’re seriously going to go dressed like that , when I look like this?” Phoenix complained.

“I need to dress nicely for the both of us,” Miles replied as he fussed with the cravat. “I think tomorrow, we’ll go into the city and find you some better clothes to wear for the rest of the visit.” 

“Oh, my god, Miles,” Phoenix groaned. “Listen, I’m sorry, but I don’t have the money for that,” he protested, tossing his dirty clothes into his suitcase. 

“I’m well aware. It’s a good thing you have a boyfriend who can pay for it,” Miles replied as he finished with his preparations in the mirror and turned around.

“I do?” Phoenix frowned as Miles stepped towards him. 

“You do,” Miles confirmed. “Besides, it's more for my own sanity than for your benefit.” 

“I-If you’re sure,” Phoenix said, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “I feel bad you’ve already had to pay so much for me and I’m not even doing anything…”

 “What are you talking about? I’m the one who dragged you all the way to Europe with me,” Miles refuted as he reached out and began to pick stray fibers off of Phoenix’s shirt. “Everything I do, consider it compensation for having to put up with me and the von Karmas while you’re here.” 

“If…you’re sure,” Phoenix repeated with a sigh as Miles turned around and gathered his own dirty clothes.

“So, are you ready?” Miles asked as he neatly folded his dirty clothes to put away in his suitcase. 

“Yep,” Phoenix nodded, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. 

“Very well, dinner should be served in about twenty minutes. Let’s head to the dining room,” Miles said as he started towards the door. Phoenix lingered behind, waiting to fall into step behind him. 

“You’re really sure this is okay?” Phoenix asked, glancing down at his attire. Now he was thinking of taking Miles up on his offer to borrow some clothes from him, but it was probably too late.

“Well, no, but…” Miles sighed as he trailed off. “I suppose your attire will do a fine job of distracting everyone from the topic of work.” 

“I mean, that is what I’m here to do right?” Phoenix chuckled. 

“Yes, I suppose,” Miles grumbled as they turned down the hallway and down towards the main part of the house. “I just didn’t realize how much of a distraction you’d be. You’re…you’re almost an embarrassment at this point.” 

“Ohoho, an embarrassment? I can show you what being an embarrassment is , ” Phoenix threatened with a menacing smirk. 

“Wright, please, I didn’t mean it as a challenge —” Miles said, trying to backpedal, but Phoenix interrupted. 

“If I may remind you, you are the one who signed up for this. If you don’t like my style, I’ll pack up and head home,” Phoenix offered with a nonchalant shrug. “No, even better, I’ll go get a taxi, you can ship my things home. The von Karmas can pay for that, right—?” He turned and instead of heading toward the corridor that led to the dining room, Phoenix went in the direction of the grand corridor that led to the extravagant foyer of the manor they had entered through that afternoon. 

“Wright, no!” Miles snapped, reaching out and grabbing hold of Phoenix’s wrist, with the smallest ghost of a smile on his face at Phoenix’s dramatics. Phoenix snapped his arm up and tried pulling away from Miles. “Come on.” 

“Nope! You can’t appreciate the pure embarrassment I bring to the table!” Phoenix called, continuing to struggle. “How about your driver? Where is he, can you page him? Have him take me back to the airport immediately because I didn’t have the correct clothes for dinner!” 

“Phoenix, please,” Miles pleaded as he reached out, wrapping his arms around Phoenix completely to try to get him to stop acting ridiculous. 

“Nope, I’m leaving. Thank you for the tour of the airport and this estate, but I think I’d rather have my Christmas alone at home than here embarrassing you.” 

“I swear to—Phoenix Wright—” Miles hissed, still trying to wrestle Phoenix into going in the correct direction. Phoenix, at this point, had gone relatively limp and was laughing to himself as he gripped Miles’s arms around his chest.

“Miles Edgeworth!” a voice called, and they both looked up from their roughhousing to see Franziska eying the two of them. “What on earth are the two of you doing?”

“Not to worry, Franziska von Karma!” Phoenix called, righting himself again as Miles let him go. “I’m just giving sweet Miles a hard time.” 

“Are you…going to dinner now?” Franziska asked, eying Phoenix’s choice of clothes. Phoenix noticed she was wearing an impressively elegant dress with gloves. His stomach sank. They really did dress up for dinner, didn’t they? Why couldn’t Miles have told him this beforehand? Phoenix could have at least gone back to the theater department and raided the costume storehouse for something that would pass for these stupid dinners.

“Yes, we are,” Miles sighed as his hand went to rest on Phoenix’s lower back.  “Unfortunately, dear Phoenix forgot to pack his formal clothes.” 

“Next time, you should pack his bags for him so he doesn’t make such a foolish mistake,” Franziska said with a shrug. She turned and headed towards the dining room and disappeared from sight.

“ Not a bad idea for next time,” Phoenix chuckled to himself. 

“Shut up,” Miles growled. 

“You know…” Phoenix sighed as Franziska disappeared from sight.  “That raises the point of if you do come back for future holidays without me, you’re going to have to fake break up with me too,” Phoenix smirked. “Well, less faking, but you’ll have to tell them we broke up. Do you want to be the dumped party or the dumpee?” Phoenix asked. “We should probably figure this out now. Y’know. To be safe,” he said in a teasing tone.

“Enough, Wright,” Miles said as he clenched his fist around shirt material at Phoenix’s lower back. “We’re not planning our fake break up right now. Let’s just go ahead to dinner and get this over with.” Miles gently pushed at Phoenix’s lower back to urge him onwards. 

“No, no, come on! You first,” Phoenix said, rolling away from Miles’ grasp. “I’m pretty sure von Karma is going to eat me alive if I’m the first one to enter.” 

“You’re such a child,” Miles scoffed, walking ahead of Phoenix, but he thought he detected a bit of a nervous wobble in Miles’s own voice. 

He paused outside of the dining hall, reaching for Phoenix’s hand. Phoenix sighed and reached out, placing it within Miles’s grasp.

As they stepped inside, Phoenix shrank against Miles’s side. Franziska was already inside holding a wine glass as she stood at her father’s side. 

Phoenix wondered if it was actually wine in Franziska’s glass and tried to recall the drinking age in Germany, but it tracked that she would be drinking a glass of wine as well. Hell, if she had her own career as a prosecutor at that age, Phoenix felt it was fair she got to have a glass of wine with dinner. Von Karma also held a glass of his own, and they both turned to look at the two entering the room. 

Franziska hid a smile behind her glass as she glanced between her father, Miles, and Phoenix. Contrarily, von Karma’s mouth turned downward into a grimace. 

“Do…Do you truly think this is acceptable?” von Karma croaked as his gaze bore into Phoenix. 

“My apologies, sir, it’s my fault for not ensuring Phoenix had the appropriate attire for his stay here,” Miles said before von Karma could continue his scolding. 

“Useless boy,” von Karma scoffed. 

“I plan on remedying this by taking Phoenix out tomorrow to shop for some clothes for this week. He’ll need something for Christmas Eve, as well,” Miles said. 

Phoenix continued to hide behind Miles as the butler, Hans, appeared and offered the two of them wine glasses as well. Glad for the distraction, both Miles and Phoenix reached for a glass. 

“Good,” von Karma finally said after they’d taken sips from their glasses, “…and please take Franziska with you.” 

“What? Why?” Miles frowned, looking between von Karma and Franziska. 

“She’ll be your much-needed chaperone,” von Karma shrugged before taking another sip from his own glass. 

“Sir— respectfully , I—we don’t need a chaperone—” 

“Yes, but since you deemed it suitable to date a manchild who can't dress himself properly, I think you do need supervision,” von Karma replied simply. 

Phoenix felt Miles’s muscles stiffen beneath his hand that rested in the crook of Miles’s elbow.   

“Ensure they don’t embarrass themselves tomorrow, Franziska,” von Karma continued, turning toward his daughter.

“Thank you, Papa. I’ll be sure to keep a close eye on them,” Franziska said, giving a quick curtsey. 

“Come on, let’s just go sit down. Food will be brought out shortly,” Miles muttered and pulled Phoenix away to where the table was set. Miles pulled out the chair for Phoenix before helping scoot it back in, and then took his own seat. 

“It’s kinda nice to be doted on,” Phoenix chuckled softly so the others wouldn’t hear them. 

“Sorry about von Karma,” Miles sighed as he fussed with the cloth napkin on the table. “I knew he’d be a bit… well, him about things, but—”

“Oh, is this about the manchild comment?” Phoenix asked. “It’s probably not the worst that’s ever been said about me.” 

Miles gave him a concerned look. 

“Remind me to tell you about my ex later,” Phoenix said with an even tone. “What’s Christmas Eve, by the way?” 

“Oh, von Karma always has a Christmas party on Christmas Eve. Some people from work, prominent national figures, and politicians usually show up.  I nearly forgot about that as well, so we’ll get you something suitable to wear for that.” 

“Oh, boy,” Phoenix breathed. “No pressure, right?”

“Again, feel free to be your ‘manchild’ self because I know most of the usual people who attend will want to ask about work. If I have a boyfriend there to introduce them to…” 

“They might not ask about work and would rather bother you about us, yep, got it,” Phoenix said, nodding solemnly. 

“Precisely,” Miles agreed. 

Soon Franziska and von Karma came to take their seats at the table and, subconsciously, both Phoenix and Miles straightened up. Phoenix noticed von Karma’s intense glare directed his way and he squared his shoulders under the intense gaze. Under the table, he reached for Miles’s hand. To his surprise, Miles adjusted his hand to better grasp Phoenix’s and gently squeezed back. 

It felt as if another hour passed before they were finally interrupted by the butler serving the food. Once their food was in front of them, they all began eating in silence. Even though it was most likely quiet because they were eating, the tension was almost palpable. 

Phoenix nearly jumped out of his skin when Franziska finally spoke up.

“So, Miles Edgeworth,” Franziska started after swallowing a bite of her food. “Why don’t you tell us how you and Phoenix Wright met? Surely there’s some kind of story there. I’d like to know what it is. What attracted you to him of all people?”

“Oh,” Miles breathed, staring at her with wide eyes. “Yes. How we met. Of course. That would be—ah, erm,” Miles stammered. 

“Isn’t he cute?” Phoenix swooned. “He’s so shy whenever anyone asks him about the story. I don’t think I can answer for him what attracted him to me, but I can tell you vice-versa!” Phoenix offered. 

Franziska looked at him with a mildly bored but expectant expression and Phoenix swallowed hard as his brain kicked into overdrive. What could he say that applied to their fake relationship? What was something romantic…?”

“Well, we actually met at the courthouse, you know?” Phoenix started. 

Oh, bad start, Phoenix told himself. He absolutely could not use the same story about how he had met Dahlia. Everything about that story was wrong, and it stirred all the wrong emotions in the pit of his stomach again. 

Quick, pivot, Wright! Phoenix hissed to himself.

“I…I had actually been called to the witness stand for some trouble at school a little while ago and Miles was the prosecutor for the case,” Phoenix started. “He did such incredible work, you know. Just seeing him there behind the bench was magical ,” Phoenix sighed, resting his chin in his hand and looking over at Miles who looked as if every coherent thought in his mind had left him. “The image of him shone so brightly I couldn’t help but fall for him,” Phoenix said, continuing to lay it on thick with a dreamy expression on his face. He padded out the story as much as he could as he tried to decide how to proceed from there, hoping Miles would find his words once again and help pick up the rest of the story.

Miles briefly choked upon hearing Phoenix’s loquations about him, but tried to suppress it so no one else would notice. Unfortunately, Phoenix did, as he smiled softly to himself, pleased that he was able to fluster the other man so thoroughly.

 “I was too nervous about approaching him afterwards though. He’s such a prestigious and gifted prosecutor, I couldn’t possibly…b-but once…once he had gotten the conviction on the case, he…he checked in on me,” Phoenix said softly, with the loveliest voice he could muster. “I was a little rattled by the case itself, y’know? It isn’t often you’re witness to an awful murder…but he was so caring and gentle with me. I was a pretty lousy witness too,” Phoenix admitted sheepishly. “I was in so much shock that my recollection of the event was pretty shaken. But even then, he took me down to the courthouse cafeteria afterwards and saw to it that I got some food in me. Once I had gotten something to eat, I found some courage to ask him out. We’ve been dating since,” Phoenix said, leaning in to Miles.

“Tell us more about this case Miles was working on!” Franziska pleaded. 

Well, shit. 

Whatever response Phoenix had been expecting, it wasn’t that. Now they were edging closely to work talk, which is what Miles had wanted to avoid. Phoenix dipped into the only experience he had in court.

“Oh, it wasn’t really that exciting. A student got electrocuted on campus and at first I—I thought it was more of an accident than anything!”

“How was the student electrocuted on purpose, then?” von Karma asked, finally looking interested in the conversation.

“It was outside the pharmacology department. There are a lot of electrical wires around there for the machines they use,” Phoenix explained. “One of them broke.” 

“Just like that?” Franziska asked. “I still don’t see how it was on purpose. It seems like it could have been an accident.” 

“Y-Yes, that’s what the defense tried to argue,” Miles finally interjected and Phoenix jumped, a little startled by Miles’s sudden contribution. “I…I was able to prove that it was on purpose due to some physical evidence and Phoenix’s testimony.” 

“Yes! That’s what I was there to testify about. I had talked to the victim shortly before it had happened,” Phoenix continued. “I came back to talk to him about something we had been arguing about, and I ended up seeing the student who murdered him. Of course, I didn’t see the actual murder happen, but I was able to provide testimony about who I saw at the crime scene.” 

“Between that and the…ah, fingerprints found, we were able to wrap the case in a day,” Miles continued.

“Yep,” Phoenix confirmed with a nod, as he watched the butler slide in and refill both his and Miles’s nearly empty wine glasses. “I’m glad it didn’t drag on for a few days. It was exhausting!” Phoenix said before giving the butler a small nod of thanks. “I mean, it’s really impressive you’re all able to do this day in and day out!” He then tried steering the conversation away from him and Miles since the details were hazy. This seemed to work as Franziska shifted the discussion to talk about some cases she and von Karma had worked on in the past year. It had once again fallen into work conversation, but at least it wasn’t about Miles specifically and Phoenix figured that’d be good enough. 

They both politely listened throughout dinner and when Franziska had begun to inquire after other trials Miles had prosecuted, Phoenix decided to make a show of how tired he was. Truthfully, it wasn’t much of a show—he was genuinely exhausted, especially now that he had food in his stomach. 

He started with putting his elbows on the table as he finished up the last few bites of his food, resting his chin on his upturned palm. Once he had finished eating and Miles had cleaned his own plate, Phoenix leaned over in his seat to rest his head against Miles’s shoulder.

“Are you okay, Phoenix?” Miles asked softly. He sounded a bit relieved as if he could understand what Phoenix was doing. 

“‘M tired,” Phoenix said quietly as if he was trying to avoid the others hearing him.

“I know,” Miles sighed, leaning into Phoenix briefly. “Are you done with your food?” 

Phoenix simply nodded.   

“Very well,” Miles said, sitting up straight again. “If you’ll excuse us, I think we’ll be retiring early to recover from today’s flight.” 

Von Karma simply hummed in acknowledgement. 

“What time shall I be ready to leave tomorrow?” Franziska asked. 

“We’ll leave after breakfast,” Miles said as he stood from the table and extended his hand to help Phoenix up. Phoenix graciously took Miles’s hand as he stood up and resumed his place behind Miles where the others could see only part of him. He was safe there with Miles acting as a barrier between him and the others.

“Sir, will you please inform Mikael to be ready to leave at 8:30am tomorrow?” Miles requested.

“Very well,” von Karma said. 

“I’ll be ready when I come down to breakfast, then.” Franziska nodded. “Get some good rest, little brother.” 

“Thank you,” Miles said before awkwardly urging Phoenix out of the room, with his hand tucked into Phoenix’s. 

They were silent as they headed back towards the guest wing, but once they were in the guest room again, Miles shut the door and groaned. 

“Oh, my god, Wright, what was that?” Miles asked as he shut the door behind him. 

“Huh? What? My story?” Phoenix blinked sleepily in Miles’s direction. “Oh!” Phoenix perked up a bit realizing what Miles was so anxious about. “Did you like it? You know, I took a creative writing class before switching to law, so…I took some creative liberties to our…’relationship.’” Phoenix used air quotes.

“Right, of course. But really—you could have just used our actual relationship as a basis for our lies to make things easier. You’re extremely lucky I began to recognize the case.”

“You recognized the case?” Phoenix asked, his eyes going wide.

“Only a little. I like to be familiar with as many cases that come through the office, even when I don’t work on them. They’re all learning experiences,” Miles remarked. “But seriously , Wright. It would have been so much easier to stick to something that actually happened instead of trying to create something completely new that we now have to stick to!” 

“Yeah, I guess I could have,” Phoenix said with a shrug as he sat down on the bed. “It’s just—I dunno, it’s not very exciting or romantic.” 

“What are you talking about? It’s plenty romantic!” Miles argued as he began to pace in front of the bed. 

“I-It is?” Phoenix asked, straightening up from where he was sitting. 

“W-Wait, n-no,” Miles stammered as he paused, his face beginning to flush. “I-I-I just mean—you could have made that sound romantic…that we were good friends when we were younger and we were separated by the tragedy of my father’s death and then reconnected now that we’re older. Is that not romantic?”

“Y-Yeah, I suppose, that could be romantic,” Phoenix admitted, his face beginning to grow warm as they discussed whether or not their real-life relationship had the potential to be considered romantic. “I don’t know how much of your past you wanted to share with the von Karmas, too. I mean, obviously they know, but…” Phoenix said. “I just thought it’d be good to invent a fake history for our fake relationship to keep things straight and not get confused. Though…I know we ventured dangerously close into the ‘talking about work’ territory. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize Franziska would ask about the case, of all things, after telling her that story.”

“Again—she’s a prosecutor, she has more interest in trials than our interpersonal romantic relationship history,” Miles sighed as he finally paused his pacing and began to shed his suit coat and untied the cravat around his neck. Phoenix swallowed as his eyes focused on Miles’s neck. Not that he’d ever not seen it before. He had been wearing a regular shirt on the plane, or had it been a turtleneck? What was it about his stupid cravats made the neck underneath that much more attractive? 

“Right, I forget she’s not the usual teenage girl,” Phoenix said, pulling himself back into the conversation. “But maybe it was a good thing? After all, if you refuse to talk about work at all during this trip, they may suspect something is wrong. So this way, they still see you’re a big bad prosecutor with a win record and that you’re so good at your job you’re wooing unsuspecting witnesses left and right and you finally decided to pick one up.”

Phoenix was waiting for the scowl and the impatient “Wright” from Miles, but instead he received a small smile and a snort in amusement. He felt his chest clench as the warm feeling of satisfaction began to seep through him.

“I suppose you have a point,” Miles said. “Your foresight with this situation has proven quite useful. You…you actually have quite the tactical mind.” 

“Hey, you don’t have to sound so surprised about it!” Phoenix protested, beginning to smile as well. 

“I mean…for a manchild, at least,” Miles continued, his smile widening as it looked like he was stifling laughter.

“How dare you!” Phoenix gave a loud, melodramatic gasp before beginning to laugh as he reached back to grab a pillow off the neatly made bed and threw it at Miles. 

Miles caught the pillow and, upon seeing Phoenix’s laughter, began to chuckle. As their laughter died down, Miles continued to hold the pillow, gently squishing it in his hands.   

“So, that case…I do remember a student being electrocuted on a university campus…that was the case you were involved in back in April? The one Miss Fey defended you at?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, the story wasn’t so far off, actually…a student died on campus. They thought that I was the one who killed him since I had talked to him last but it turned out it was…another student. One who was testifying as a witness. Thanks to my defense lawyer, she was able to prove it was the other student and not me.”

“Why did you say you were a witness, then?”

“Well, if I told them I was a defendant and I hadn’t been convicted, it wouldn’t look very good for your flawless string of victories.”

“Oh,” Miles said softly. 

“You know for a smart, hotshot prosecutor, you’re pretty stupid, Miles,” Phoenix said with a teasing smile. 

“Hey,” Miles snapped as he glared at Phoenix, but he began to laugh regardless before throwing the pillow back at Phoenix’s face.

“Oh, before I forget, let me go get you some bedding,” Miles said as he unbuttoned the cuffs on his collared shirt and rolled them up a bit.

“U-Uhm, yeah, thanks!” Phoenix laughed nervously as Miles left the room. 

x

As quietly as he could, Miles made his way down to the linen closet, where he seemed to remember extra bedding and such was kept. Before he was able to reach the end of the hallway, he heard a voice. 

“Miles Edgeworth!”

Miles turned around and saw Franziska standing in the hallway with a glass of water in her hand. 

“What are you doing?” Franziska asked. 

“What are you doing down by the guest wing, Franziska?” Miles shot the question right back. 

“I wanted to check to make sure you had everything you needed,” Franziska said in a falsely sweet voice. 

“Tch,” Miles hissed to himself, not believing it for a moment. 

“So? What is it you need? I am a gracious host, after all,” Franziska offered.

“I was…going to get a glass of water,” Miles said, after spotting the water in her own hand. 

“Surely you haven’t already forgotten your way to the kitchen?” Franziska said with a derisive snort. “You’re going the wrong way.” 

“Of course not!” Miles refuted, and he could already feel his face heating up in embarrassment. “I was just also…going to get an extra blanket for Phoenix. He’s…more susceptible to the cold.” 

“This Phoenix Wright…he was your penpal while you lived here, wasn’t he?” Franziska asked. “Though I think penpal is generous, considering you never opened or returned his letters.” 

“Wh—?”

“You don’t think I wouldn’t recognize the name from the correspondence I forwarded to you a few months ago? And I remember you receiving these letters while you lived here. It wasn’t often, but you always hid them away and never opened them.”

Miles sighed. He had hoped she wouldn’t have remembered Phoenix’s name.  

“So, who is he really to you?” Franziska asked. “A penpal or a witless witness who wooed you while he was on the witness stand?”

“It’s none of your business, Franziska,” Miles growled. 

“You brought him along for the holidays, so it kind of is, little brother,” Franziska said as she gave him a smile that Miles could only interpret as the same smile she used when she had witnesses and defendants cornered in their testimony. 

“What is knowing going to change?” Miles asked. 

“It’s not about knowing, it’s about finding out why you’re lying to us,” Franziska said. “Why are you lying to us about who Phoenix Wright really is?

“I’m not lying about anything, Franziska. Now, good night.” He turned on his heel and continued down the hall. 

“Hmph, I’ll get to the bottom of this, you know,” Franziska called after him. 

“No, you won’t, since there’s nothing to get to the bottom of,” Miles replied, raising and waving his hand to dismiss her. 

“Good night, little brother.”  

“Good night, Franziska.” 

Feeling subconscious now, he made his way to the linen closet. Once he was there, he double-checked over his shoulder to ensure Franziska had really left the guest wing. Miles returned his attention to the closet and began searching for the extra bedding and futon. It had probably been ages since it had been used, but finally Miles’s hand landed on what he was looking for. He slid out the futon and gathered it in his arms before quickly making his way back to their room. 

x

“Everything okay?” Phoenix asked as Miles entered the room. 

“Franziska saw me,” Miles admitted as Phoenix got up and came to take the bedding from his arms. He noticed that Phoenix had already changed into a t-shirt and a pair of flannel sleep pants. 

“Ooh, how did you explain getting extra bedding for your boyfriend to sleep on the floor?” Phoenix chuckled, taking the futon over to where he would set it up beside Miles’s bed.

“She didn’t see me get the futon. She just saw me heading for the linen closet. I told her you needed an extra blanket on the bed. I suppose if she saw me with the futon, I could have told her that I’m angry with you because you didn’t pack your nice clothes, so you get to sleep on the floor,” Miles said, to which Phoenix snorted. “Do you need any help setting it up?” 

“I’m fine.” Phoenix shook his head as he began to roll out the futon. 

“Okay, I’m going to go change for the evening then, as I see you’ve already done so.” Miles said, pulling a small bundle of clothes from the dresser. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Yep!” Phoenix called in acknowledgement as he began to make the bed. 

As Miles left the room, Phoenix finished laying out the futon and collapsed on top of it without laying out the blankets. He was so tired. But he couldn’t stop thinking. Thinking about how Miles had paid for so much out of his own pocket to bring Phoenix just so he wouldn’t have to talk about work so much? And at such a risk, apparently. Miles seemed utterly anxious about the von Karmas discovering their secret. So why bring him along if the chance that it could be a failed ruse was so disastrous?

It was absurd. 

Well.

Probably about as absurd as changing one’s career path in order to meet someone again after years apart.

When Miles returned, Phoenix sat up and nearly burst out into laughter at the sight of him. The man was wearing silk pink button-up pajamas. 

“What, pray tell, is so funny, Wright?” Miles asked with a frown.

“N-Nothing!” Phoenix snorted. “It’s just your pajamas—”

“Yes? What about them?” he asked, going to hang up his dinner clothes.  

“They’re…they’re cute!” Phoenix laughed. 

“They’re cute?” Miles repeated dumbly.  

“Yeah, they’re really cute,” Phoenix repeated with a soft smile, looking proud of himself. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Miles muttered, as he went to turn off the lights leaving only the warm glow of the bedside table lamp. He then returned to his bed and turned down the covers so he could crawl under them. 

“It kinda feels like a sleepover when we were kids, y’know?” Phoenix chuckled as he watched Miles tuck himself into bed. 

“I suppose it does.” 

“You remember when we slept over that one time in grade school?” Phoenix asked. 

“O-Of course,” MIles smiled softly. “I…I remember it fondly. We stayed up late watching old Signal Samurai episodes and then my father cooked us breakfast the next morning.” 

“Yeah! Oh, hey, speaking of—” Phoenix jumped out from under his covers and went to rummage through his carry-on bag, before finding what he was looking for. “You remember these guys?” Phoenix asked, opening his hand to display a well-worn keychain. His Signal Blue keychain. 

Miles stared at it for a moment before extracting himself from his bed once again. He went to his own carry-on bag before returning to bed and holding out his own hand with the same style keychain. 

“No way…” Phoenix stared wide-eyed, looking between Miles and the keychain. Phoenix felt a surge of affection in his chest for the other man. “I…I thought I was the only one who still held onto mine. Larry lost his keychain a while ago. Well…I dunno about lost, actually. He grew out of the whole samurai thing and stopped carrying it with him. To be fair, I haven’t watched a lot of the new series they’ve done, but having this keychain still…it kinda feels like a good luck charm or something!”  

“Yes…I agree…” Miles closed his hand around the keychain again before returning to his bag to tuck it away safely. Phoenix smiled and did the same. 

“Okay, for real though, I’m exhausted. Can we turn in for the night now?” Phoenix asked, settling back into his futon and drawing the covers up over his shoulders. He felt as if he couldn’t keep his eyes open for another moment. 

“Yes…it’s been a long day,” Miles sighed as he returned to his bed and turned out the lamp on the bedside table dousing the room in darkness. There was some rustling as Miles got settled. 

“Goodnight, Miles,” Phoenix said, once the room fell silent again.

“Goodnight…Phoenix,” Miles replied softly. 

Chapter Text

Phoenix Wright was startled awake by a dream. It had left him with a sense of dread and unease as he slowly became more aware of his surroundings. For a moment, he was disoriented. This wasn’t his apartment. 

Right. 

He was in Germany, staying with Miles Edgeworth in his mentor's fancy estate with drivers and butlers and little girls with riding crops. 

His thoughts returned to the dream he had just woken up from, and he immediately realized that it must have been a product from last night’s dinner. 

Initially, he had been back at university as he was trying to make it to class on time, but he couldn’t find the building. Upon finally finding the building, he looked up and down impossibly long corridors for the lecture hall, eventually finding himself in a lab…not a traditional lab, though. Instead of a bright, clean atmosphere, it was dim and there were paperwork and books strewn about. As he searched for any of his classmates, he instead found von Karma waiting for him with a severed electrical cord in his hand—extended, as if he were trying to electrocute Phoenix. 

Phoenix had tried to escape, but it felt like whatever he did, he didn’t get any further from the man and his possessed expression. Von Karma’s eyes glimmered in anticipation and his mouth contorted into a sick grin. Phoenix could feel his heart in his throat as he tried calling out for Miles to help him, but the other man was nowhere to be found. There was a rushing in his ears; he could practically feel the electricity crackle behind him as he tried to run. Phoenix tripped over his own feet and braced himself, expecting to be electrocuted.

Instead, he suddenly found himself in an impressive courtyard that he logically knew was nowhere on the Ivy University campus. But in the center, there was a familiar figure with a parasol and long auburn hair with her back to him.

Before Phoenix could decide what he was going to do, his body had pulled him awake. 

He laid there and stared up at the ceiling, the beautiful crown molding casting interesting shadows in the dimly-lit room. Catching his breath, he willed his heart rate to slow down to something more manageable. He closed his eyes, hoping to find sleep again, but the adrenaline pumping through his body was refusing to dissipate. 

He wondered how long it’d be until Miles woke up, or what time it even was. Grabbing blindly in the dark, he reached for his phone and checked the time. 6:18am. 

Phoenix tried to think of anything he could do to distract his brain from lingering on the nightmare he’d had. Reflecting back on it just made him even more nervous for breakfast this morning. He knew he could withstand von Karma’s glares until they were able to go out and buy him new clothes, but it didn’t mean he liked it. 

It’d be fine, though. As long as he had Miles… 

Maybe this morning he’d actually ask Miles if he could borrow some of his nicer clothes to wear to breakfast, then subsequently out shopping. He knew that Miles most likely had outfits planned for every day of the week while they were there, but maybe he had been over-prepared and packed an extra set or two just in case. 

He heard the blankets on Miles’s bed rustle above him, and Phoenix assumed it was just Miles turning over in his sleep. However, when the rustling didn’t die down, Phoenix chanced calling out to him. 

“Miles?” Phoenix said in an impossibly small voice. “Miles, are you awake?” 

“Yes…yes, I am. What is it?” Miles’s groggy voice replied back. 

“Sorry, I just…woke up and I can’t go back to sleep. I-I didn’t know if you…never mind. If you’re still tired, you should get some more rest.” 

“No, it’s…fine. I’m…also having trouble finding sleep again,” Miles admitted softly. 

“Oh,” Phoenix breathed. After a beat of silence, Phoenix spoke again. “What time is breakfast usually?”

“Eight,” Miles said. “What time is it now?” 

“A little after six,” Phoenix replied. “We have some time.” 

“Good,” Miles sighed. 

“Are they still…I mean, is it the same dress code as it was for dinner? For breakfast?” Phoenix asked.  

“Not quite as severe, but…”

“Should I actually borrow some clothes from you this morning?” Phoenix asked. “So it isn’t as bad as dinner was last night?” 

“I suppose. Anything I was going to wear, I could always have laundered. Or perhaps I’ll buy some extra clothes while we’re out, too,” Miles mused aloud.

“You know, we could get matching sweaters or something,” Phoenix snorted to himself. “Something sickeningly sweet.” 

“Perhaps,” Miles hummed to himself. “We have Franziska to worry about taking with us today, as well. So perhaps that’d be a good course of action to take. Then, next time, if we want to go out, she’ll beg von Karma to not be our chaperone.”

“Having her along won’t be a problem, Miles,” Phoenix said with a soft sigh. “Besides, you said you worry she doesn’t take enough time to be a teenager. Maybe we can make it fun for all of us? Why don’t you let this manchild show you how it’s done.” 

“Shopping for clothes isn't exactly my idea of unbridled teenaged fun, but I suppose you’re right…” Miles sighed. “Say, since we’re going to be going with Franziska today…would you mind telling me more about the case that you were involved in back in April? You know, just in case Franziska asks any more about it.” 

Phoenix had a feeling that Franziska wouldn’t, but this must have been Miles’s way of asking for more information without sounding like he was prying into Phoenix’s past.

“Oh, sure,” Phoenix sighed. “I suppose I was going to tell you more about it eventually.” He thought about sitting up to talk, but he felt like it’d be easier to lay there and stare at the ceiling while divulging the traumatic case that still haunted his dreams. 

“Let’s see…I guess it started when I had agreed to meet a student to talk about something behind the pharmacology department building.” Phoenix’s eyes traced the drapery that hung from the four poster bed as he recalled that fateful meeting in April. “He wanted to talk about someone and he, uh, said…something about someone I knew that I didn’t like…” Phoenix said. He felt bad that he was still being so vague, but surely Miles didn’t want to be bored with the nitty gritty details of it all. 

There was more rustling of the bedding above him and Phoenix glanced over to see Miles sitting up on his elbow, peeking down at him. Phoenix returned his gaze back toward the ceiling before continuing.

“I felt like he was just making things up about this student that I knew, but he was…erm, warning me to not spend any more time with them because he knew some stuff that incriminated them. But I was…defensive and I…I shoved him to get him to shut up because I just didn’t know what else to do.” Phoenix began to fidget with his fingers and pick at his nails, wondering what Miles would think of him after learning more about the case and his involvement. 

He chanced a glance over to where Miles was peering over the bed at him in the darkness before looking away again.  

“I was…so incredibly mad at him for saying those things. He fell backwards, b-but he was fine…so I left him there until about ten minutes later. I felt bad about what I’d done, so I was gonna go back to check on him and apologize…” Phoenix trailed off for a moment. 

Miles hummed as an acknowledgment he was still listening.

“It was then I saw what had happened. The student he had warned me about—she was there. She had done it. She was the one who pushed him into the electrical wire, but she tried to pass it off as if he had already been dead by the time she got there and framed me for it. She knew we had met to talk…she knew what he had wanted to say to me…”

“This…student. The one who committed the crime…was she your ex?” Miles asked softly. “That’s why you were defensive of her initially?” 

“Y-Yeah, actually,” Phoenix admitted. “I didn’t want to believe it.” Phoenix continued softly. “But it was her…everything Doug had said about her…it was true. If only I had just listened, then maybe…”

“There’s no use in pondering the ‘what if’s,” Miles remarked quietly.  

“I suppose you’re right,” Phoenix groaned. “Luckily, the Chief was super good and helped get me a not guilty verdict and got my ex put away.” 

“Out of curiosity, who was the prosecutor on that case? I don’t recall.” 

“Payne? I think that was his name,” Phoenix replied. 

“Ah,” Miles sighed, as he laid back down in his bed, staring at the canopy of the four posters above him. He made a mental note to look up the case later. He wanted to know more specifics, but it seemed as if Phoenix wasn’t going to offer them. Would it be inconsiderate of him to pry into the file when they returned home?  

However, Miles couldn’t help but think about what would have happened if he had gone against Fey again in the case where Phoenix was the defendant. 

Would he have blindly gone for the conviction, or would he have tried to help Fey find the truth of the matter and clear Phoenix’s name? The immediate answer that came to mind made Miles’s stomach churn. When it came to his job, perhaps he was a little blinded and led by von Karma’s reputation…  

“Miles?” Phoenix asked softly. “Are you thinking about what you would have done as the prosecutor in that case?”

“Ah—” Miles breathed, not expecting Phoenix to read his thoughts so easily. “P-Perhaps…” he admitted. 

“Well, I’m glad you’d at least pause and think before convicting me,” Phoenix chuckled weakly. “Anyway…” Phoenix sighed. “Take your own advice and don’t bother thinking about the ‘what-ifs.’” 

Miles huffed to himself feeling as if it was unfair for Phoenix to spit his own advice back at him. Was it likely Phoenix would ever be in the same situation? No. 

Was Miles going to return to work after the first of the year and live with his actions every day for the rest of his life? Yes. 

He groaned to himself. It was much too early to be thinking that deep about these things.

“Should we start getting ready? Figure out what the heck I’m wearing, at least?” Phoenix suggested. 

“Yes, I suppose,” Miles replied, propping himself up on his elbow once again to peek down at Phoenix. “Did you sleep okay down there?”

“Yeah, it’s surprisingly comfortable! I’m glad you found this futon for me,” Phoenix chuckled, though he did silently wonder what sleeping on the floor all week would do to his back…it already twinged and hurt the next day if he so much as slept wrong or was hunched over books while he was studying.

Well, at least for now it seemed like he was okay. If it became a problem, he’d let Miles know and they’d figure something out.

“I suppose we should probably roll it up and put it away during the day so there’s no confusion in case any of the staff comes in during the day,” Miles thought aloud. 

“Okay! It wasn’t hard to set up, so I imagine the reverse is true.” Phoenix sat up finally and rolled himself out of the covers as Miles threw his legs over the side of the bed and turned on the small lamp on the bedside table. Phoenix began to roll up the futon while Miles went to his closet and looked through the things he packed to see what he could give Phoenix. As Phoenix came over to stash the futon away, Miles decided on a simple grey collared shirt.    

“Augh, that’s so boring, Miles,” Phoenix groaned in a slightly teasing tone. “I thought you had more exciting clothes than that .” 

“Really, you’re going to complain about the clothes I so graciously offer you?” Miles asked, quirking an eyebrow in Phoenix’s direction. 

“No, I guess not. It’s fine,” Phoenix said with a shrug.  

“Wait,” Miles sighed, digging through his things again before coming up with another piece of clothing, a maroon sweater vest. “Does this count as more exciting?” Miles asked. “You can wear that over the shirt.” 

Phoenix snorted to himself. 

“Yeah, so much more exciting,” Phoenix confirmed. “Thanks again.” 

Phoenix disappeared for a few minutes to change and get ready for the day. When he returned, he found Miles laying out the last of Phoenix’s clothes that hadn’t been unpacked. The pink sweater and his underwear were the only things left in the suitcase. 

Phoenix felt his stomach drop to see his things laid out like that while Miles inspected them. 

“Hey!” Phoenix exclaimed in a frenzy. “What are you doing?”

“Taking inventory of what you have and what we need to get you,” Miles said simply.

“You can’t just go through my things!” Phoenix was fuming. 

“Well, you didn’t unpack everything yesterday, so I had to take it upon myself. Besides, you allowed me to look through them last night,” Miles said. “I don’t see the difference now.”

“Yes, you looked through them to help me find something to wear but now you’re—! You’re—! You’re pulling everything out to judge and pick apart!”  Phoenix gestured broadly at how his wardrobe was laid out. How could he really not see how embarrassing this was? He folded his arms across his chest and clenched his jaw, mentally having to restrain himself from rushing to fold everything up and put it away and out of Miles’s discerning gaze.

“Really, Wright, some of these are so threadbare…” Miles sighed to himself as if he weren’t even listening to Phoenix.

Phoenix flushed even brighter in anger and embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I don’t have the money for new clothes very often. They are what they are.” 

“I—I wasn’t passing judgment on you,” Miles replied quietly, as if he finally noticed that Phoenix was bothered by it. “I was just making a statement.”

“Well, you were making a statement that sounded a bit like you were judging,” Phoenix argued, hunching his shoulders. He’d already been given grief by both Miles and von Karma the night before about the nicest clothes he’d packed and here Miles had pulled out every article of clothing Phoenix packed to appraise. 

“I…I truly do apologize that I didn’t give you a proper warning. I suppose it would have been smart to meet beforehand and go shopping for the trip.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Phoenix sighed as he began to collect all the clothes that had been dragged out. “I had finals, so I wouldn’t have had time to go shopping anyway.”

“O-Okay…well, that’s why we’re going today,” Miles said, unsure what to do now that Phoenix seemed cornered and frustrated. 

“Have you figured out everything we need to get today, then?” Phoenix asked flatly, deflating a little bit. 

“I’m trying to determine what our stay here will look like,” Miles muttered. His gaze shifted away as he thought to himself. “Obviously there will be Christmas Eve, which we’ll stop at the tailor for. For that particular day, you probably don't need much more. But after that…Franziska will probably want to go to a Christmas Market on Christmas Day. So perhaps an outfit for that…a sweater, a jacket…” Miles droned on. 

Phoenix was only half listening as he shoved his torn-apart wardrobe back in the suitcase.

“I’m sure we’ll have some other day trips since I imagine you’d like to do some sightseeing?” Miles asked, almost sounding apologetic as he stepped back to allow Phoenix to finish.

“U-Uh, oh, yeah,” Phoenix muttered sheepishly as he calmed down, zipping the rest of his clothes away in his suitcase. “I mean, only if it’s okay. I don’t want to interrupt anything else that they have going on.” 

“The von Karmas don’t have much planned in the way of holiday festivities outside the Christmas Eve party,” Miles said simply. “And we’re here until the thirtieth…von Karma will probably continue working. Franziska too, most likely. We can make plans…either way, you’ll need another few days of clothes. Maybe one more suit jacket you can wear to regular dinners…” Miles trailed off. 

“Are you going to remember all this?” Phoenix asked as he thought to himself how much this would all cost, feeling a little anxious about this growing list.

“Ah, perhaps I should make a list,” Miles said with a nod before going to fetch a small notebook and a pen to make notes.

“Hey Miles?” Phoenix called quietly.

“Hm?”

“Y-You’re buying me these clothes…f-for me to keep, right?” Phoenix asked. 

“Well, yes, of course,” Miles said as he stopped taking notes and looked up. “I certainly don’t need them after this week. Is that what you mean?” 

“Okay, just…we should be mindful of how much we’re buying. Remember we still have to fly back with our luggage at the end of the week and if I have so many new clothes I can’t fit them in my suitcase…” 

“I’ll buy you another suitcase to take them home,” Miles said, matter-of-factly. 

“Miles,” Phoenix gave an exasperated sigh. 

“What?” Miles frowned in confusion.

“You’re too much,” Phoenix chuckled to himself. “Whatever. You’re running the show; I’m just along for the ride.” 

Once Miles had finished his list, he went to change into his own clothing for the day. Phoenix sat on the edge of Miles’s bed, wondering what that day would be like. Miles said they were going to a tailor? Phoenix had never been to a tailor before. What other places were they going to go? It truly had been a while since Phoenix had gone shopping for new clothes, let alone nice clothes. Usually he just raided local thrift shops whenever he needed something new, so…he was a little nervous.

Miles returned to the bedroom wearing a soft grey cardigan with a maroon turtleneck underneath. Phoenix noted that they were almost wearing inverted colors. Miles really likes the color red, doesn’t he? Perhaps it was just a way to ensure all of the pieces of his wardrobe would match in any combination. 

After putting away his old laundry, he came to stand in front of where Phoenix was sitting. He began to fuss with the way the collar on the shirt laid and adjusted the shoulders on the sweater vest. Miles’s own shoulders were a little broader than Phoenix’s so they looked a little disproportionate on him, but overall, Phoenix admitted the outfit looked much better than the clothes he had packed.

“Alright, it’s about seven-forty now, do you want to head down?” Miles asked, checking his wristwatch. 

“I-I suppose,” Phoenix muttered, still fidgeting a bit under Miles’s gaze, beginning to feel the dread settle in his chest.

“Are you sure?” Miles asked. 

“I just—yeah, no, I’m fine,” Phoenix said with a nod before standing up to meet Miles’s gaze. “It’s just…you’ll laugh at me.” 

“For what?”

“You know, I had a dream last night that I was back on my college campus and I was trying to find my way to class and von Karma was there, like…chasing me, I guess?” Phoenix said, feeling a bit of the dread in the pit of his stomach vanish after talking about it out loud. 

“Ah,” Miles nodded, not sure what else to say in response. “I—I’m sorry?”

“Hey, at least Franziska hasn’t shown up with her riding crop in my nightmares yet,” Phoenix chuckled to himself. Suddenly, as if remembering something he’d been thinking about, Phoenix asked, “Hey, I wanted to ask…is Franziska really von Karma’s biological daughter?” 

“I-I have no reason to assume otherwise. I never knew her mother but…why? Why do you ask?” Miles frowned.

“I dunno, it’s just…she’s really cute! And well…von Karma is—no offense, but he’s kinda ancient and ugly.”

“You’d be the first to describe her as cute. Many people opt for ‘frightening’ or ‘intimidating,’ though I suppose most people first meet her in court.” Miles couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips. 

“I just don’t see how he’s able to have such a cute little daughter,” Phoenix continued with a shrug. “I  thought maybe he enjoys collecting weird little kids, because between you and Franziska…I mean you’re both really weird—”     

“Wright!” Miles snapped, but let out an undignified snort. 

Phoenix smiled, a sense of success washing over him as he watched Miles try to contain himself. All the anxiety he had been feeling that morning began to dissipate. 

“Let’s go already,” Miles said, shaking his head and reaching for Phoenix’s hand. 

Phoenix couldn’t help but grin. Today wouldn’t be so bad after all.

x

When they arrived downstairs both Franziska and von Karma were already at the table, dressed and ready for the day. Von Karma had on one of his gaudy suits similar to the one he had been wearing yesterday, and Franziska was wearing a dark pleated skirt with a ruffled powder blue chiffon collared blouse. Her hair was pinned up today, and Phoenix thought she looked every bit the role of a gifted young career woman. 

Breakfast was a quick affair. Von Karma barely spoke to them over the course of the simple meal. Miles and Franziska exchanged a few quick quips in German and Phoenix continued to silently spread some marmalade on some toast. About halfway through their meal, von Karma got up and left the room after saying something to Franziska.

He barely looked in the direction of Phoenix and Miles. Phoenix preferred this treatment over the scrutiny he faced the previous night. However, part of him felt as if he were letting Miles down by not being the perfect distraction. At least von Karma was also ignoring Miles…Phoenix peeked at Miles out of the corner of his eyes, trying to gauge whether or not Miles was pleased with this outcome or not. He looked as neutral as ever. 

Phoenix sighed.

As they were finishing up their sausage and eggs, Hans returned to the dining room and announced that the car and Mikael were around front and ready to take them whenever they were finished with breakfast. 

Miles nodded a silent thanks and the butler disappeared once again.

“No rush,” Miles said softly, as he watched Phoenix pick up the pace in polishing off his breakfast.

“I know,” Phoenix said around a mouthful of eggs and he set his utensils down and continued chewing slowly. “I just wanna make sure I’m not the one everyone is waiting on,” Phoenix said once he had swallowed the food in his mouth. 

Franziska rolled her eyes at Phoenix as she stacked her plates and stood from the table. 

“I’ll meet you both outside.” Franziska turned with a wave.

x

They arrived at the shopping center a half an hour later and Phoenix looked around in fascination. Miles gave the driver, Mikael, an approximate time that they’d be done and Mikael was off again. 

“All right, let’s get this over with,” Miles sighed, taking Phoenix’s hand as Franziska led the way.

“What are we doing first?” Phoenix asked, following along beside him.

“I had Mikael drop us off at the end of the shopping center with the tailor. His shop is just outside the mall on this end. We’ll take care of that first, then continue into the mall itself for our other shopping afterward,” Miles explained, heading towards the small row of shops just outside of the large shopping mall. 

“You’re both being slow,” Franziska called as she paused outside the tailor shop. 

“Franziska, we’re not in that much of a hurry,” Miles chided as they caught up to her.

They entered the tailor’s shop and an older gentleman in a simple collared shirt, bowtie, and navy blue suspenders greeted them. Miles replied in German. Phoenix, once again, was desperate to know what they were saying. The other man seemed to recognize Miles and Franziska, warmly exchanging pleasantries with them, and asked them some questions. Phoenix thought he heard von Karma’s name in there and Miles said something about America…? 

Eventually, the gentleman looked past Miles and Franziska to where Phoenix was standing. Did Miles say something about him?

“This one?” the tailor asked. 

“Yes, Phoenix Wright,” Miles introduced them. “Phoenix, dear, this is Oskar Schneider, von Karma’s tailor.”

“Yes, I’ve helped dress the von Karmas for nearly a decade now,” Oskar replied in accented English. 

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir,” Phoenix nodded. 

“We’ll need some tails for him. You remember how Papa has his Christmas parties every year, ja?” Franziska said. 

“Of course,” Oskar replied. “Do you have any idea of which base suit you’d like to go with?” he asked Miles. 

“I have a few ideas. I may need to see the selection again, of course,” Miles replied and Oskar showed them over to one of the many racks against the wall. 

Another person appeared in the shop from the back and Oskar lit up. They had short choppy dark hair that seemed to reflect a blue-green hue in the light and they wore a waistcoat with fitted trousers.

“Ah, yes, and this is my assistant Laurin, they’ll be helping us today,” Oskar introduced them. “Well, let’s get started, then, hm? I’ll grab some initial measurements and we’ll go ahead and pull some pre-made suits since this will be a tight turnaround.” Oskar explained, already pulling a tape measure from his pocket and coming around to get some measurements off of Phoenix. 

He called out some preliminary numbers and Laurin immediately went to the section of pre-made suits to begin pulling out some of the styles to hang on an empty rack for their perusal. They also handed both Phoenix and Miles a few different swatches of different types of material and colors. 

Miles began to sort through the selection, consulting with Laurin in German until they began to pare down the grouping of suits. Finally, Miles had it narrowed down to two navy blue ones. One seemed to be wool and had velvet lapels with some beautiful, but subtle embroidery around the cuffs. The other one was a little lighter with what looked like a cotton or linen that comprised the jacket. There was some dark silk trim around the lapels and the cuffs. Other than those small details, Phoenix could barely see the differences between the suits…he was fascinated by the process of selecting the right suit. It seemed as if Laurin and Miles had it down to a science. Even Franziska was offering input during their discussion.

Phoenix was content with just sitting and watching them hold up swatches and discuss suit cuts. He idly ran his thumb over the fabric swatches in his own hand, feeling the different textures as his mind drifted. 

“Well, which one would you like to go with?” Miles offered, turning towards Phoenix. 

“You’re asking me? ” Phoenix asked, snapping out of his reverie. 

“Well, yes, you’ll be the one wearing it,” Miles continued. 

“Yes, but von Karma’s going to be the one judging…I thought it’d be best for you to pick for me?” 

Oskar chuckled quietly at the two of them. 

“And I’ve narrowed it down. Either one of these would look respectable. So, which one?” Miles asked.

Phoenix looked between them and decided on the cotton one with the silk trim as Laurin took the other options back to put away. 

“Excellent choice, sir. Why don’t we head over to the other part of the shop so we can get your detailed measurements and double-check what needs to be altered before tomorrow evening?” Oskar offered, leading them over to where there were small platforms in front of mirrors. It must have been the fitting area. 

Oskar hung up the jacket beside a mirror and gestured to the fitting room for Phoenix to pull on the trousers that matched the coat. As he did that Laurin brought over a few options of waistcoats and cummerbunds. Miles sorted through them and eventually decided to go with a light powder blue waistcoat. 

“Okay, now what?” Phoenix asked as he emerged from the changing room.

“Please step up here,” Oskar said, gesturing to the platform. 

Miles helped Phoenix up onto the step and handed him the blue waistcoat to go on underneath the coat. Next, Oskar helped Phoenix into the suit coat. 

“Wow,” Phoenix said as he admired himself in the mirror. 

While Oskar situated the suit on Phoenix, Miles went with Laurin to help pick out the final details such as the collared shirt and other accessories. Franziska sat off beside the mirror and played with the riding crop in her hand while Oskar began to pin the adjustments he needed to make. 

“You know, Phoenix Wright,” Franziska started. “You look less like a manchild in clothing like this. Why didn’t you remember to pack nicer clothes if you knew you were coming to stay with us?”

“You want the truth?” Phoenix asked, with a defeated look on his face. 

Franziska nodded with a serious look on her face. 

“I can’t afford these types of clothes. I don’t own anything like this back at home.” 

Franziska frowned as if she were confused by Phoenix’s admission.

“Miles said you are a university student from America?” Oskar asked, as he continued to work. 

“Yeah,” Phoenix replied. “All my money goes to tuition and housing. And after that, I’ll be in debt for years. So I kind of hold on to whatever old shirts and jeans I have that still function and if I desperately need something I go to thrift-shops or second-hand shops.” 

“I still don’t see why my little brother has taken such an interest in you,” Franziska sighed.

“Perhaps,” Phoenix started in a voice that sounded as if he were mimicking the way Miles and Franziska spoke. “He could see that I’ll clean up nicely, huh?” Phoenix said, glancing at himself in the mirror and admiring how the unfinished suit looked on him. 

“Perhaps,” Franziska sighed with a shrug. 

Miles returned with a few different styles of cravats in hand. 

“What’s that?” Phoenix nodded to the cravats in Miles’s hand. 

“Neckwear,” Miles explained. 

As Oskar moved behind Phoenix to pin the inseams of the jacket, Miles stepped forward and held one after the other up. 

“This one simply ties together, but I’m leaning towards this one which ties a little differently and needs a pin,” Miles said.

“Why?” Phoenix asked. 

“Because I’m fairly sure I have something that would work for this, but…” Miles turned to Laurin who had followed Miles, “just in case, can we get a simple silver pin for this? I think I want this one.” 

“Excellent choice,” Laurin said with a nod as they took the cravat from Miles’s hand and went to put them together and add to the order.

“Remind me, why can't I just have a plain bowtie or something?" Phoenix asked.

“Remind me, what makes you think a plain bowtie will cut it for von Karma?” Miles rebuked. 

“Why is he so obsessed with dressing everyone like we’re aristocrazies from the eighteen hundreds here in the twenty-first century?” Phoenix asked in frustration. “Though, I suppose you’ve dressed weird your whole life,” Phoenix teased Miles, reaching out to gently tug on Miles’s cardigan. “Von Karma just brought it out in you, huh?”

“I refuse to comment on that,” Miles huffed. 

“Herr von Karma does have an eclectic taste,” Oskar chuckled under his breath. “From a business standpoint, it makes my job much more interesting than the standard fare we get through here. I actually got my start with tailoring through the theater in my university days, so sometimes the highly customized suits that von Karma orders…well, they remind me of those days a bit…”

“Oh! Really?” Phoenix perked up as he continued. “I’ve done a couple of performances with my own university theater department! Though the costumes were always the worst part for me…sometimes they were so hard to move in…I’m realizing maybe we didn’t have the most talented tailors.”    

As they dissolved into talking about certain productions, Miles hummed to himself. He glanced between Phoenix and Franziska and disappeared again. 

“Wait, where’s he going now?” Phoenix asked, mostly to himself, as Miles disappeared. 

Franziska offered a shrug in response. Oskar came around and asked for Phoenix to move his arms a certain way so he could see how the fabric lay. 

“I’ll go see what he’s doing,” Franziska offered, leaving Phoenix alone with Oskar. 

She disappeared from the fitting area and wandered over to where more of the pre-finished suits were. 

Phoenix enjoyed chatting with Oskar a little more, finding solace in the easy to talk to tailor. 

Another five or so minutes passed and Franziska returned with Miles at her heels. In his hands he held a small bag that had the tailor shop name on it. Phoenix assumed it was more accessories for their ridiculous suits. He wondered if Miles got a fancier cravat for himself to wear on Christmas.

“What do you think, Miles?” Phoenix smiled, as he caught the other man studying how the suit looked on him. 

Miles sputtered for a moment, not expecting for Phoenix to address him and his…staring.

“I look pretty good, right?” Phoenix prompted when Miles didn’t respond immediately.

“You…you look wonderful,” Miles replied with an exasperated sigh. 

“Aw, thanks, babe,” Phoenix chuckled and Miles flushed at the pet name. 

“Mr. Edgeworth, would you like me to keep Mr. Wright’s measurements on file for future use?” Oskar asked in a casual manner but there was a weight to those words. Do you intend to have this man in your life after this year?

“Oh, you probably don’t need to do that,” Phoenix replied before Miles could, and Miles grimaced. Phoenix clearly didn’t understand the weight of the question. 

“Dear,” Miles started in a strained voice. “You might need adjustments next year. It’d be best if we had your original measurements on file. ”

“Oh, right,” Phoenix grimaced as he seemed to realize what the connotation meant.

 “Yes, Oskar, add them to the file,” Miles replied to the tailor.  “Thank you.”

Phoenix swallowed loudly and glanced back at Franziska who seemed a little confused at their exchange. He hoped he hadn’t messed up too badly.

But really what did it matter? What did faking a potential long-term relationship do for them? When all was said and done, Miles would eventually tell his adopted family that they had ‘broken up’ unless Miles continued to bring him every year and at that point— 

“Very good, sir, I think we’re about done. And I see Laurin has already rung you out, correct?” Oskar asked. 

“Yes,” Miles nodded before slipping into German to continue the conversation. 

Phoenix deflated, realizing he wasn’t going to be part of the rest of the discussion. Instead, he turned to Franziska. 

“So, Franziska von Karma,” Phoenix said with a smirk. “Where are we going next?” 

“Why are you asking me?” Franziska scoffed.

“Your brother is busy and I thought you were our chaperone,” Phoenix said with a shrug. “You mean you don’t have an itinerary for us to follow or something?” 

“It isn’t my job to plan my brother’s errands,” she huffed, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m only here to ensure you don’t embarrass yourself, not to babysit.” 

“Fine, okay,” Phoenix sighed. He was just trying to make conversation while Miles was busy, but it seemed as if Franziska wasn’t one for small talk. 

Phoenix continued to look around the tailor’s shop and eventually, his gaze landed on the pedestrian path in front of the tailor shop. Just outside a pedestrian had stopped to chat with someone else. That pedestrian also had a very friendly looking dog.

An idea popped into his head. 

“Miles, we’ll meet you out front!” Phoenix called before gesturing for Franziska to follow him. 

“Where are you going?” Franziska asked, taking a single step to follow him before hesitating. 

“I dunno—I might need a chaperone, though,” Phoenix said with a smirk, and Franziska gave him an exasperated look before following him outside. He grinned at the dog and dog owner before freezing and again realizing he didn’t speak the language. 

“Franziska? How do I say ‘can I pet your dog’ in German?” Phoenix asked. 

Franziska paused.

“Seriously?” Franziska hissed in response.

“Please?” Phoenix pleaded. 

“Darf ich deinen Hund streicheln,” Franziska sighed.

“Darf… ich d—” Phoenix tried repeating. 

“You may come over and say hallo,” the young woman with the dog called, overhearing their hushed conversation and noticing Phoenix’s interest in her dog.  

“A-Ah, thank you! Come on!” Phoenix nodded to Franziska, who seemed unsure by it all. 

“What’s your dog's name?” Phoenix asked as he held out his hand for the dog to sniff.

“His name is Max,” the woman provided as her friend said something with a chuckle.

“Ah, he seems like such a good boy! Do you want to come to say hello, Franziska?” Phoenix offered. She looked tempted by the offer but remained still. “He’s really sweet!” 

Before she could reply, the door to the tailor’s opened and Miles came out holding the bag of purchases. 

“What are you two doing?” Miles asked. 

“I just wanted to come to say hello to the puppy!” Phoenix said excitedly. 

“He looks older than a puppy, Phoenix,” Miles sighed before he turned his attention back to the woman and apologized.

“He’s friendly,” the woman replied with a smile. “Neither of us mind, isn’t that right, Max?” the woman chuckled, looking towards her dog who excitedly wagged his tail and looked between them. 

“May I?” Miles asked and the woman nodded her head again. Miles stepped forward and allowed the dog to sniff him before he gently stroked the top of the dog's head. “He is…quite sweet. Thank you very much for indulging us,” Miles told the woman.

“Of course!” 

They turned away and began walking towards the heart of the shopping center. 

“I believe we’ll want to go to one of the big department stores next. Do you know where the nearest one is?” Miles asked Franziska. 

Franziska huffed, looking around. “I’ll go check the directory.” She headed towards a kiosk a little further away. 

Miles turned to Phoenix and offered him his hand once again. 

“Hey, you know, seeing that dog reminds me…what happened to that dog we found when we were kids?” Phoenix asked, quietly, already having a feeling he knew the answer. 

“O-Oh,” Miles sighed. “About a year before I returned to America she got sick,” Miles sighed. “I…I had to put her down. Von Karma didn’t want to pay for the expensive vet bills and treatments. I was still in school and didn’t have an income for myself, so…”

“Th-That’s unfair! He has loads of money!” Phoenix replied in a distressed tone, tensing and clenching his fists. 

Miles quietly shushed him so Franziska wouldn’t worry about a sudden outburst.

“Yes, but even with the surgery and treatment, she wouldn’t have lived much longer anyway,” Miles continued. 

“I suppose,” Phoenix said softly.

“Franziska cried for almost a week straight, though she’d never admit it,” Miles said with a small, sad smile. “Even though she was my dog, Franziska loved her just as much as I did. She even…she even had clothes tailored specifically for her.” 

“Oh, my gosh. That’s so cute,” Phoenix chuckled, the tension in his shoulders beginning to melt away. “Did Oskar help with that?”

“Of course. He was delighted by the challenge. She…she had an outfit specifically to match von Karma. It was…quite funny. Von Karma hated it, of course,” Miles said with a soft smile at the memory. 

“That’s amazing! Please tell me you still have pictures of that,” Phoenix pleaded.

“Oh, I’m sure we have photos somewhere. I’ll have to ask Franziska,” Miles replied. 

“What’s taking you two so long? I know where we’re going next!” Franziska called to them, stepping away from the mall directory. 

“Very well, then. Lead the way, ” Miles called back, tightening his grip on Phoenix’s hand for a moment.

They continued towards one of the department stores that Franziska had decided on. Phoenix was nervous as they entered, the same feelings he had about entering the tailor. These stores were not meant for him, or people of his…economic status.

The price of one garment in here could feed Phoenix for a few weeks.

But this was what Miles had insisted on. And Phoenix couldn’t argue that having a better wardrobe might help in his future law career as well. 

Franziska led them easily through the store to the men’s department. 

“Where do we even start?” Phoenix groaned, looking at the racks upon racks of clothing from a wide variety of designers.

“Not to worry, dear,” Miles chuckled. “I have that list of items we should pick up for you. How about we start with some basics, and then move on to the more specific pieces?”

They moved through the racks of clothes as Franziska and Miles pulled out potential things Phoenix should try on. Phoenix just stood in awe as he held onto the clothes they decided on. Miles and Franziska continued to argue about what colors and styles would look best on Phoenix. For a while Phoenix zoned out, not paying attention until he was being shoved towards the private dressing room with his clothes. 

“Wait, what do I start with?” Phoenix asked, looking down at the collection of clothes in his hands. 

“Try on the collared shirts…then do the slacks with the sweaters and come out and show us,” Franziska said. 

“O-Okay,” Phoenix agreed, before glancing at Miles for a moment to confirm if that sounded okay to him. 

Miles nodded before reaching out and awkwardly squeezing Phoenix’s shoulder. 

“I’ll be out in a bit, then,” Phoenix said, leaning into the touch before pulling away and back towards the fitting room.

Miles and Franziska loitered around outside the changing rooms in an awkward silence.

“Sorry again for dragging you along for this,” Miles finally said. “I’m sure this is the last thing you’d have hoped to do today.”

“I don’t mind. And Papa specifically asked me along, so I’m happy to do as he wishes,” Franziska replied with a shrug. 

“If you’re sure,” Miles sighed. 

There was a bit more silence between them.

“You know, you two really don’t have to pretend in front of me,” Franziska said softly. “I mean, you’re not really dating him, are you?”

“Is this from your ridiculous notion I’m lying to you about my relationship with Phoenix Wright from last night?” Miles asked with a huff. “Of course, I’m dating him. Just because you don’t like him—” 

“No, it’s not that. There’s just too much that doesn’t add up. You’ve known each other longer than you let on,” Franziska said, tapping her chin as she thought. “Phoenix Wright admitted to not having access to nice clothes as a university student, despite the fact that you could have easily done this type of shopping trip back in America before you came here for the holidays. You knew by November, at least, that you’d both be coming here for the holidays and you didn’t bother to check and see if he had appropriate clothes?” Franziska explained. “I don’t know what the reason is, but you’re not actually romantically involved with that man,” Franziska said, folding her arms across her chest.  “You’ve simply tricked him into coming with you for some reason.” 

“Franziska,” Miles groaned. “We couldn’t have gone shopping before the trip, he had finals to be studying for…and besides—” 

“Fine, he had finals. Regardless, it seems like your relationship is…off, just slightly. He’s known you since you were children, you’ve ignored the letters he’s sent you, and then you miraculously meet in court again and strike up a courtship? After years of ignoring the man?”

“Franziska, I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” Miles grumbled, feeling frustration and panic begin to rise in his chest.  

“No, apparently I don’t. Please, help me understand—” Franziska started, dropping her arms to rest her hands on her hips.

Before Miles could formulate a retort, Phoenix emerged from the dressing room and came out to show off the first outfit he had put on. 

“Well, Franziska von Karma? How do I look? Do I pass? What do you think?” 

They both turned to look to see Phoenix in a navy blue sweater and grey slacks. He spun around in a circle to give them the full view of how the clothes fit. 

“Hm, not bad,” Franziska remarked, folding her arms across her chest again. 

Miles clenched his fist and steeled his resolve. 

Franziska didn’t believe they were truly dating? He’d have to fix that by doubling down. 

“Ah, Feenie, dear, you look wonderful!” Miles replied, stepping forward to fuss over him. On top of straightening out the shoulders of the sweater, he also fussed with a stray strand of hair, tucking it back and then gently—awkwardly—stroking Phoenix’s cheekbone.   

“Th-thanks?” Phoenix stammered, taken off guard by Miles’s bizarre new behavior. Phoenix glanced over at Franziska to try to determine what caused this change of attitude.

Franziska simply rolled her eyes with an exasperated shake of her head. 

“Come, I want to see what else you’ve got to try on,” Miles said, tugging Phoenix back towards the fitting room. 

“O-Oh! S-Sure?” Phoenix stammered. He followed along, leaving Franziska alone outside the dressing rooms.

Miles found the correct dressing room and quickly tugged Phoenix inside.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Phoenix squeaked. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“I’m sorry, I panicked!” Miles hissed, pulling the dressing room door shut behind him. “Franziska is really onto us. She just confronted me, accusing us of faking our relationship.”

“What!? How? How does she know?” Phoenix replied urgently. “We’ve been doing so well! In fact, we’ve been doing so well sometimes I forget we’re not actually dating—”

“J-Just everything!” Miles said, cutting Phoenix off. “The story you told the other night doesn’t line up with what she knows of you and—she just…she just knows. Oh, we should have stuck closer to our actual story than some bogus one you made up—”

“Hey, don’t blame me! You should have planned this better so I wouldn’t have had to make something up on the spot!” Phoenix argued as he tugged the sweater off, leaving his undershirt on. “And now that you’re acting super weird, she’s going to know something is up even more—” Phoenix paused as he looked at the sweater in his hands. “Wait, are we actually getting this sweater? I didn’t get a verdict.”

“Yes, yes, we’ll get that one. Not this green one, though,” Miles muttered as he began to sort through the clothes they had sent Phoenix in with. “Don’t bother trying it on. I don’t like the way it looks; I only added it to please Franziska.” Miles took the rejected sweater to hang on the other side of the small dressing room. “But you’re right, I suppose we should have worked a little harder on this whole charade. Now everything’s going to fall apart, and I’m going to be an even bigger embarrassment to von Karma. Perhaps it’d be better if I just fake my death and move to another country.” 

“Miles, stop it,” Phoenix snorted softly, reaching out to grasp Miles’s shoulders. “That’s not gonna be necessary,” Phoenix muttered with a gentle smile, which Miles returned hesitantly. “Now,” Phoenix said, letting go of Miles’s shoulders, “what am I trying on next?”

Miles sorted through the hangers, removing the things Franziska had picked out. He decided on a collared shirt that had a classy pattern on the maroon fabric. This same shade of red, Phoenix thought to himself with a chuckle as he pulled it off the hanger and began to put it on.

“If she bugs us about it again can we, I dunno, bribe her to keep quiet?” Phoenix asked as he buttoned up the shirt and glanced at the full-body mirror in the dressing room. Miles appeared behind him, slightly tugging at the hem and straightening the collar. 

“That’s not bad,” Miles muttered, observing Phoenix in the mirror. 

“The shirt or keeping her quiet?” Phoenix asked, turning around and beginning to unbutton the shirt again. 

“No wait, keep that on,” Miles instructed before handing him a cream colored cardigan. “I want to see how this looks over the shirt. And no, bribing her to keep quiet won’t work,” he explained as Phoenix re-did the top button of the shirt, took the cardigan from Miles, and pulled it on. “I’d never be able to offer something greater than the reward of embarrassing me in front of von Karma.” 

“What are we going to do, then?” Phoenix asked, straightening the shirt under the cardigan and glancing in the mirror again. 

“That’ll do nicely,” Miles nodded in confirmation. “Franziska doesn’t have any proof that our relationship is false. All she has is conjecture,” Miles continued. 

“Am I trying on anything else?” Phoenix asked. 

“How did those trousers fit?” Miles countered. 

“Oh, I think they’re okay, right?” Phoenix turned in a circle for Miles to double check the fit. 

“It would have been nice to have them tailored as well, but there’s only so much Oskar can do in a day,” Miles sighed, his eyes lingering on Phoenix’s backside a little longer than necessary.

Phoenix smirked, knowing that he was most likely assessing the fit of the trousers. But it was still fun to imagine Miles was also enjoying the view. 

“They’ll do. We can pick up another color on our way out, so you have another pair,” Miles decided.

“Okay, so I’ll go ahead and just change back into my regular clothes, since you don’t care for me to try on the other things Franziska picked out?”

“Yes, let’s not waste time. I’m the one sponsoring this shopping trip, not her.” Miles collected the suggestions Franziska had picked up. He turned away to sort through the unused clothes to allow Phoenix some privacy. “Anyway, without solid proof, there’s no way she’d ever approach her father with a ludicrous theory such as this and waste his time. So, for now, I think we’re safe.” 

“Well, that’s good,” Phoenix said, pulling off the trousers. “I mean, if she really bugs us about it…we can tell her that yes, we knew each other before but then we were separated by your relocation after your father’s death and lost touch before we reconnected in court…It doesn’t have to be that hard. We can easily refute any of her arguments.” 

“How do we explain the letters then?” Miles said with a small frown, already realizing the hitch in their plans. “And if she asks why we concealed these facts?”

“I don’t know, Miles,” Phoenix groaned in exasperation as he pulled his pants back up to sit on his hips.  “Maybe we were in touch before the court case and we only started dating because of the reconnection after my trial in April, so that’s the part I decided to tell and avoid going into too much detail in the past because it doesn’t matter. I mean, she asked about the case after I finished telling them how we met! There’s no way she would have cared about the fact that we knew each other beforehand. So I made a judgment call, right? Just blame it on me. I’m an idiotic manchild who can’t even tell stories about my past correctly.”

Miles was silent.

“There, Miles, I’m done changing,” Phoenix said as he finished pulling the maroon sweater vest over his head again.

“I…I’m sorry, I’m putting so much undue stress on you,” Miles sighed, only slightly turning back to Phoenix, looking ashamed. 

Phoenix deflated a bit, his shoulders sagging.

“Miles, don’t worry about it,” Phoenix said, reaching out and gently squeezing Miles’s hand. “I signed up for this and you paid for this full trip including my wardrobe. I’m not having any regrets. I’ll be okay. Honestly, I don’t care what they think of me. If you need to tell them whatever lie to maintain your standing with them, you can. Maybe tell them that you’re just using me because I know information about some bigger investigation you’ve got going on. I dunno.” Phoenix shrugged and looked away. “Then you’ll be praised for being so resourceful or something.”

“I-I know,” Miles nodded. “The thing is…” Miles pinched the bridge of his nose. “Never mind.”

“What?” Phoenix returned his gaze back to Miles and tilted his head with a soft smile. “What is it? You can tell me.” 

“I…it’s foolish. But—I seem to…I seem to care about what they think of you,” Miles said, hunching his shoulders inwards and looking away. “I know I shouldn’t care, especially because this is all just…a ruse, but…I-I do. You’ll never see them again after this, so why do I care?” Miles looked back up at Phoenix with a confused…almost angry look in his eyes. Instead of backing down, Phoenix squared his shoulders.

“Maybe you realized that bringing a distracting manchild along to Christmas was more of a reflection on you and wasn’t the brilliant idea we thought it was?” Phoenix suggested with a smirk. 

“Maybe…” Miles sighed. 

“If you need to change up our approach let me know,” Phoenix offered. “I can try to be more…refined? Less manchild-esque?” 

“No…no, just… be yourself,” Miles muttered, glumly. “Manchild and all.” 

Phoenix didn’t feel reassured at all. Miles still sounded so helpless.    

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Phoenix sighed, unsure what else he could do to cheer Miles up. “Now, come on, we have more stores to look at, don’t we?” he asked, attempting to shift the mood.

“Yes, yes, I suppose we do. There are about three other department stores and a boutique or two I’d like to stop at before we’re done for the day,” Miles agreed as he collected the rejected clothing in his arms. 

“Great! Then I have an idea about how to distract Franziska from our contradictory relationship,” Phoenix offered as he grabbed hold of Miles’s hand, gathered the few hangers of the clothes they were buying, and led Miles out of the changing room.      

“Wh-What do you have in mind?” Miles asked as he was pulled from the dressing room.

“Well, we have to eat at some point right? Leave that to me,” Phoenix said. Miles hung up the clothes they weren’t purchasing on the rack outside the fitting room and they returned to where Franziska was waiting for them. 

“Are you fools done?” Franziska huffed, looking a little flushed. “What about my options?” she asked, eying the clothes that they had decided on. 

“Unfortunately, none of them worked out,” Miles sighed with a shrug. “We’re getting these.” He reached out to take the clothes they had decided on from Phoenix. Phoenix handed them over before going to pick up their bag of purchases from the tailor which was still sitting at Franziska’s feet. 

“Come on, Franziska von Karma,” Phoenix said, waving them on. “We have more places to get to!” 

“Feenie, dear, wait! We still have a few things to pick up here and we have to check out!” Miles called. 

“Well, let’s get going, then!” Phoenix laughed. 

x

Another couple hours passed as they visited several other stores, and they left each one weighed down with more and more shopping bags. 

“Why don’t we stop for some lunch?” Phoenix asked with an innocent look on his face. Miles glanced over at him and Phoenix nodded as if he were a secret agent sending some signal. Miles rolled his eyes at his dramatics but smiled nonetheless.

“Here at the mall?” Franziska countered with a frown. 

“Feenie, dear, don’t you want something a little…well, better?” Miles asked. “We can go to a nice restaurant or something.” 

“I agree,” Franziska said. 

“C’mon, you guys! We don’t need to do something fancy every moment of the day. We just spent hours in your world. Why don’t you spend some time in mine?” 

“Your world being…a mall food court…?” Franziska asked with a confused frown.

“No! Just being, y’know…non-fancy!” Phoenix exclaimed. “Now which way is it?”

“Fine. I-I believe we passed the food court earlier today…it was this way,” Miles said, pointing in the opposite direction of where they were headed. 

As they began to make their way toward the food court, Phoenix paused outside a small shop that seemed full of vintage toys and collectables. An idea began to form in his head as he spotted something promising in the little shop.

Maybe there was something Phoenix could get for Miles to show him how much he appreciated being brought along. It seemed as if some guilt was still weighing on Miles. It wasn’t as if Phoenix could ever monetarily pay him back for this trip, perhaps a small token of appreciation in the form of a Christmas gift…

“Something wrong, Feenie, dear?” Miles asked, hanging back to wait for Phoenix. 

“Huh? Oh, no!” Phoenix exclaimed, catching up. “I’m good, just hungry.”  

They found the food court and both Phoenix and Franziska looked around in awe at the extravagant Christmas decorations that garnished the food court. When Phoenix caught Franziska looking around with as much excitement as he was, he felt incredibly proud of himself. Phoenix glanced back at Miles expecting a smile, but instead he looked pale and vacant as he stared at the decor that surrounded them.

“Miles?” Phoenix called softly. “Are you feeling okay?”

“O-Of course, I just…I think I just need some food,” Miles said in a wobbly voice, tearing his eyes away from the large Christmas tree in the center of the food court. 

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Phoenix said, letting go of Miles’s hand to wrap an arm around his waist and gently rubbing Miles’s lower back. 

“Okay, Phoenix Wright, where are we eating?” Franziska asked, finally turning her attention back to Phoenix and her brother. She noticed how shaken Miles looked and that Phoenix had shifted his focus from the decor to his rattled boyfriend.

Phoenix thought he saw a flash of understanding in Franziska’s expression.

Perhaps she had some idea as to why Miles’s mood had suddenly turned south.

“What do you guys feel like eating?” Phoenix asked, looking around. For now, he was suddenly desperate to shift the focus off of Miles and his discomfort. “I’ve never been here, but I think the usual fare is pizza, burgers, Asian and Mediterranean food…”

Before they could decide on lunch, Franziska decided on dessert, her eyes landing on a delicious looking waffle shop. They decided to get lunch from a nearby restaurant, and Phoenix suggested a good burger. Neither Miles or Franziska seemed too sure about what they wanted off the menu, so Phoenix directed them to a simple cheeseburger and fries and Miles ordered them three meals. 

“Now what?” Franziska asked as they stepped out of line. “Will they bring it to our table?”

“Oh, no! Uh, we have to wait for them to call our order and then we pick it up and bring it to our own table. Looks like they’ve got all the food on trays. Miles, will you be good to collect our food if Franziska and I go find a table?”

“How will I find you?” Miles asked nervously. 

“Erm, follow your heart?” Phoenix said teasingly. Miles paled again. “I’m kidding!” Phoenix quickly said, not wanting Miles’s mood to plummet once more. “Once we find a table I’ll have Franziska sit down and I’ll come back and direct you in the correct direction. Okay?”  

“V-Very well,” Miles stuttered. 

Phoenix reached out and squeezed Miles’s hand before bringing his hand to his mouth to press a kiss to Miles’s knuckles. 

“F-Feenie, please,” Miles muttered, flushing brightly. Franziska rolled her eyes, already exasperated by the both of them. 

“See you soon!” Phoenix called, waving to Miles before heading off towards the seating for the food court with Franziska. 

It took a little bit of scouting before they found a table. 

“Phoenix Wright—” Franziska started as they set their things down. Before she could get to any more of her conversation, Phoenix cut her off. 

“Okay, so take a seat here, and I’m gonna run and get Miles, okay?” Phoenix said.

“Fine! Be quick about it, Phoenix Wright,” Franziska grumbled. 

“Yep, be back as soon as I can!” Phoenix said. 

Phoenix left Franziska at the table, but he didn’t intend on being as quick as he promised. He had a mission. 

He passed by the fast food place they had ordered food from, where Miles was still waiting. 

“Did you find a table?” Miles asked. 

“Yep! Just go that way about five tables back and you’ll see Franziska,” Phoenix promised. 

“O-Okay, why can’t you just lead me back as soon as I get our food?” Miles asked nervously. “I think our order is next.”

“I’m actually going to run to the bathroom real quick,” Phoenix said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. 

“W-Wait, would you like us to accompany you?” Miles offered. 

“What, to the bathroom?” Phoenix snorted.

“Not like—I don’t want you to get lost,” Miles said, rolling his eyes. 

“I’ll be fine!” Phoenix assured him. “Stay here, and once you have our food you can have some nice quality time alone with your big sister.”

“I’ve had enough quality time—” Miles grumbled, but Phoenix was gone.   

Phoenix headed back the way they came, looking for the shop they walked by earlier. Finally, he spotted it and quickly headed inside. Earlier, he had seen some Samurai series collectables—perhaps they’d have something Signal Samurai related? It was ridiculous to think that this odd shop would have something from their childhood, but it was worth a shot. 

The person working at the store welcomed him in with some quick German, or at least that’s what Phoenix assumed he was doing. Phoenix began to walk up and down the aisles and tables of collectables, scanning for anything familiar. The person who greeted him approached him and asked him something.

“I’m sorry…I’m…uh, English? No, I'm not English. I speak English. I’m American and I…uh…”

“Ah, hrm. Need help?” the cashier asked in English. 

 “Yes! Erm, Signal Samurai? Samurai series?” Phoenix asked. 

“Oh! Ja,” the man exclaimed with a nod. He beckoned Phoenix forward. Against the wall in the back, there was a small section of Samurai paraphernalia. Amazingly enough, there were some Signal Samurai collectables among the mix of the newer series. His eyes were drawn to the lunch tin up on the shelf. It had all three samurai on it and the name of the series underneath. Phoenix checked the price tag. About thirty euros… 

He pulled out his wallet and checked the cash he had pulled out and converted for this trip. Phoenix definitely had enough, but it left him with only about fifteen euros. Of course, he was sure if he needed anything else, Miles would pay for it, but still…it was nice to have a little spending money of his own.

Phoenix decided it was worth it. 

“I’ll take it!” he decided. The man nodded enthusiastically and beckoned Phoenix over to the counter with the register. After a quick transaction, Phoenix was once again heading out of the shop and began to speed-walk his way back to the food court, hoping he hadn’t been gone too long.  

Phoenix spotted their table and luckily Miles was facing away from him, so that he wouldn’t see Phoenix’s approach with the shopping bag in his hand.

Franziska spotted him, her eyes flicking to the bag in his hands before narrowing in suspicion.

Phoenix pressed a finger to his lip as he came up behind Miles. 

“Hey! Sorry! I did get a little lost,” Phoenix said, tucking the bag with their other purchases. 

“Your meal is nearly cold now,” Miles remarked. Phoenix noted that Miles had nearly finished his burger whereas Franziska had only had a few bites of hers, but had eaten all of the fries that had come with it. 

“Cold burgers are fine!” Phoenix chuckled, taking a few of his own fries to munch on before scooping up the burger and taking a bite from it. “Do we need to do anything else after this?” Phoenix asked around a mouthful of food. 

“Disgusting, Phoenix Wright,” Franziska said with a scowl. “And yes, we’re getting waffles afterward,” she added, looking angry that Phoenix had already forgotten what their dessert plans were.

“Oh, yeah. After that, I meant.” Phoenix nodded. 

“No, Mikael will be back to pick us up shortly,” Miles replied. “I think we’ve finished everything up for the day. We’ve bought enough for you to get by this week, I think.”

Phoenix stretched and put an arm around Miles, gently rubbing circles on his back. 

“Thanks again for all the clothes, Miles,” Phoenix said, leaning into Miles.

“Of course, dear,” Miles leaned into Phoenix’s reach. Phoenix thought about leaning in and pressing a kiss to Miles’s face or his lips. That would be a thing that a normal couple would do in this situation, right? 

But Phoenix knew that Miles would probably be uncomfortable by the gesture. Then again, Miles had been panicking about how Franziska viewed their relationship, so would he be okay with Phoenix chancing a kiss? Phoenix leaned in a bit to see if Miles would take the hint and meet him halfway. 

Instead, Miles leaned forward onto his elbows on the table and Phoenix frowned with a small pout. Franziska was watching and she smirked at them, a knowing look in her eye. 

Phoenix huffed. 

Yeah, she definitely knew something was up. 

Phoenix was going to have to kiss Miles at some point this week in front of Franziska to help prove their point. But…it’d probably be good if he consulted Miles about it first…maybe they’d get some practice in before they kissed in front of Franziska? They certainly wouldn’t want to make the mistake of performing a botched awkward kiss and make it obvious that it was their first kiss… 

He was so lost in his own thoughts about kissing Miles, he didn’t hear his companions discuss the plan for the rest of the day. Suddenly, they decided to get up and dispose of their trash and collect their shopping bags. 

“Wait, don’t we want to still sit here to eat waffles?” Phoenix asked, panicked that he was about to be caught not paying attention. “Should I stay here and hold the table? Just get me whatever you’re getting, Miles,” he said, trying to be as relaxed and collected as possible. However, it was obvious he was trying to pretend like he hadn’t been zoned out and thinking about kissing Miles Edgeworth. 

“Did you not hear us, Wri—Phoe—Feenie?” Miles stammered. “Mikael is in the parking lot as we speak. We’ll get them to-go and enjoy them on the way home.” 

Phoenix caught Franziska’s massive eye roll at Miles’s name kerfuffle. 

“Oh, right, sorry, just not thinking today,” Phoenix chuckled, trying to play it off as he hopped out of his seat and caught up to them. 

Phoenix nervously kept an eye on the bag that was now in Miles’s hand that had his Christmas gift in it. But Phoenix was sure he’d be able to hide it before Miles noticed once they got back. 

They stood at the counter of the waffle place as they looked at their pre-made options and the customization options. All of them looked delicious, smothered in Nutella, chocolate, and a variety of fruits. Phoenix thought all the options looked heavenly. There were waffles smothered in sweet sauces, fruit and cream. 

After quick deliberation, Miles once again stepped forward and ordered all their desserts to-go. Their orders were wrapped and placed in to-go boxes.  

As they headed through the shopping center once more, Franziska picked at her own waffle, clearly too impatient to wait to eat her sweet dessert until they got to the car. 

“How is it, Franziska von Karma?” Phoenix asked. 

“Much better than lunch was, I’m pleased to report,” Franziska replied after swallowing the bit she had just torn off. Phoenix chuckled to himself, glad that Franziska was at least happy with something from the food court.

It wasn’t long until they reached the mall exit and found where Mikael had pulled up the car and was waiting for them. 

“A successful shopping trip, it seems?” Mikael greeted them, reaching to take the shopping bags from them and loading them up in the back of the car. 

“Yes, very successful,” Miles said with a nod, relinquishing the last of their purchases. “Thank you.” 

x

When they arrived home, Hans and Mikael helped bring in the bags they had purchased at the mall. Soon they were sitting in a sea of department store bags in their room.

“Man,” Phoenix looked around. “This is kinda…overkill, Miles.” 

Miles shrugged as they began to sort everything out of the bags. While Miles had his back turned, Phoenix stashed the one extra bag he had picked up earlier into his own suitcase. 

Once everything was out of the bags and the tags were all clipped, Phoenix sat back and watched as Miles began to sort out which clothes could be used on which days. 

Phoenix was in awe of how much thought Miles was putting into having the right outfit for each day. They didn’t even know what they were going to be doing the rest of the week, but Miles apparently had some idea of how the holidays would play out. At least with this, Phoenix was beginning to feel more confident about attending dinner than he had the night before. 

“Now to figure out what you’re wearing to dinner tonight,” Miles muttered as he sorted through the last of the purchases. “Most of these should probably be laundered before you wear them. I’ll set them out for Hans to take care of tonight, but let’s see…” 

“Thanks again for buying me all this stuff. It really…it really means a lot,” Phoenix said as Miles began to fold and stack most of their purchases. He stood off to the side and watched as Miles sorted through the stack. He wasn’t sure what to do while Miles did that, so he settled on hunching his shoulders forward and folding his arms across his chest.

“In all honesty, it’s been for my own selfish purposes,” Miles admitted as he finished folding a stack of sweaters. “But you’re welcome…” Miles muttered, avoiding Phoenix’s gaze. 

“Ah, it’s because you want to admire the view, then? I admit I do look pretty good in the stuff we got today,” Phoenix said in a teasing manner. 

“Sh-Shut up,” Miles stammered as he began to blush. “You know what I mean. I bought them so you wouldn’t be…you know—judged the rest of the time you’re here.”

“I know. But it is still doing something nice for me,” Phoenix chuckled, as he dropped his folded arms and reached out to clap a hand to Miles’s shoulder.

“Well, I’m happy I was able to. At least you can use these clothes outside of this trip, especially if you’re intending to continue your law career. You’ll need some nice pieces in your wardrobe.”

“The Chief will probably be glad of it,” Phoenix chuckled. “She’s always giving me a hard time about my wardrobe.” 

“Yeah, I can’t imagine why,” Miles muttered in a sarcastic tone and Phoenix giggled to himself. 

“I was going to say it’s not that bad but…” Phoenix sighed. “The first time she met me, I was wearing that pink sweater and I think she had the same reaction to it that you did. There was no going back after that.” 

Miles smirked and shook his head before returning to his work sorting and organizing their purchases.

“We have about half an hour before dinner is served,” Miles said, matter-of-factly. “Let’s figure out what you’re wearing to dinner with what we have left that doesn’t need to be laundered.”

Phoenix looked on as Miles shifted through the remaining pile of clothes and it seemed as if he decided on using a navy blue tie and suit jacket for dinner. Phoenix could wear the maroon sweater vest and light grey collared shirt underneath and it could pass for a decently formal outfit.

After Phoenix pulled on the suit jacket, Miles placed the tie around his neck and set to work tying it. Phoenix stood as still as he could while Miles worked. 

“Wright, I wanted to say thanks for…you know,” Miles said softly. “Taking control today, I guess. I lost my head a bit after Franziska decided that she had us figured out…and everything.”

“I took control?” Phoenix asked dumbly. 

“Yes, with lunch and everything. I think it was a nice distraction to get food there at the mall. I also think Franziska had a good time today,” Miles continued.

“I’m glad, even though I made her eat mall food,” Phoenix chuckled. 

“You didn’t make her do anything. Besides, it was a good burger. She’s just fussy. But she did really enjoy the waffles, at the end of the day,” Miles said as he finished fussing with the tie. Phoenix smirked. He knew that the two weren’t related by blood, but the ‘fussing’ seemed like a shared trait. “Okay. Good enough.” He shrugged as he tucked the tie under the sweater vest. 

Phoenix turned towards the mirror in the room and admired the tie and the jacket. It did elevate his look quite a bit. 

“I look good, right?” Phoenix asked, turning back to Miles. 

“Yes, you do,” Miles said with an exasperated sigh. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get changed for dinner as well, okay?”

“Yeah, change away!” Phoenix said with a shrug. He leaned back against Miles’s bed as Miles went to the wardrobe and found an outfit before excusing himself to the washroom. 

As he waited for Miles, Phoenix anxiously fidgeted with his fingers, his nerves returning even though he had the proper attire for dinner now. He supposed it didn’t matter what he was wearing. He’d still feel quite intimidated by the fancy dinners and just the way von Karma was. 

Phoenix began to wonder what tomorrow was going to be like. If these dinners were anything to go by, this black-tie Christmas party was going to be…something. Did Miles say that there were going to be prominent national figures present at the party? Nothing Phoenix had ever attended could prepare him for something like this. 

Maybe he could fake being ill and avoid the party all together?

No, he couldn’t do that. Not after Miles paid for a custom tailored suit. 

At least Phoenix felt relatively comfortable with the tailors, even though their shop was intimidating as hell. He could at least look forward to seeing Oskar and Laurin tomorrow. Maybe he’d ask Miles for a few more details about the party so he had as much information as he could going into the event. 

Finally, Miles came back in one of his usual burgundy suits, but tonight he wasn’t wearing one of his usual frilly cravats. He was wearing a navy blue bowtie that matched Phoenix’s tie and jacket. Phoenix nearly laughed at how well the sweater vest he was wearing also matched the color on Miles’s jacket. 

They were turning into a couple that matched, whether it was on purpose or not. 

Well, maybe it would help sell their case to Franziska.

“All right, ready to go?” Miles asked after making some final adjustments in the mirror. 

“Yep! You look great by the way,” Phoenix said, pushing himself up off the bed and came over to Miles, gently tugging on his bowtie. 

“Thank you,” Miles replied, before fussing with the tie at Phoenix’s neck once again. 

“Miles, it looks fine,” Phoenix chuckled. 

“It’s crooked…” Miles said, frowning at the knot. “Let me redo it.” 

“Miles, it’s fine,” Phoenix repeated as he brought his hands up to clasp Miles’s hands. “Should we go ahead and go down to dinner?”

Miles nodded and they silently filed out of the room and down the familiar path towards the dining room. They paused just outside, Phoenix feeling his stomach begin to tie itself in knots again. Miles seemed to notice as he turned towards Phoenix again.

“Come on, now. Chin up—have some confidence. You look wonderful and von Karma has no reason to scold you today, okay?” Miles assured him, though Phoenix was fairly sure he was saying this to soothe himself as much as Phoenix. 

“Okay, yes, I’m fine. Remember—I honestly don’t care what they think,” Phoenix reminded him, trying to calm Miles’s nerves as well. 

“But remember, I do…for some stupid reason” Miles said, as he began straightening the tie around Phoenix’s neck for what felt like the eightieth time that evening. It was going to sit crooked no matter what Miles did.

“I know. It’s okay. I’ll do my best,” Phoenix said, straightening his back and rolling his shoulders. Miles was chewing at his lips as he continued to fuss with the suit jacket in front of him. Phoenix fought the urge to lean over and kiss him to stop his worrying. “Miles,” Phoenix said, reaching up to touch Miles’s face. “Stop. It’ll be okay.” 

“I—” Miles started as he leaned into the touch. Phoenix leaned in as well, glancing down at Miles's chapped lips for a moment. He could feel Miles’s breath on his lips and his stomach swooped. Phoenix thought back to his musings about kissing Miles earlier that afternoon. Phoenix felt his mouth go dry and his heart hammered in his chest.

Was he going to get a kiss now?

Before they could go any further there was a clearing of a throat and they snapped backwards and out of each other's personal space. They both turned towards the source of the cough and saw Franziska. 

“Eugh,” Franziska scoffed. 

“Franziska,” Miles hissed.  

“H-Hi, F-F-Franziska von Karma!” Phoenix yelped in surprise. He wondered how long she had been standing there watching them. Though he supposed it was a good thing, if anything else. Perhaps this would convince her they were really dating? Did that mean they should still kiss in front of her eventually to emphasize the point? Or was that no longer needed? Phoenix couldn’t help the disappointment he felt at the idea of not getting to kiss Miles at least once this week. 

Franziska moved to go past them and into the dining room. 

“Wait, wait, Franziska von Karma! What do you think? How did your brother do, dressing me up?” Phoenix stopped her. Franziska sighed as she turned to take another look at Phoenix. 

“Acceptable,” Franziska shrugged, shifting the skirt of her own evening gown that looked even more impressive than the one she wore the night before. 

“What? What’s wrong with it?” Phoenix frowned, turning towards her and spreading his arms, allowing her the chance to make her own improvements. She rolled her eyes but stepped forward nonetheless.

“A messy half-Windsor knot, Miles Edgeworth?” Franziska tutted, pulled the tie out from the sweater vest and untied it. “Not even a full Windsor…”  

“Well, I don’t wear regular ties,” Miles muttered. “Neither do you, for that matter.” 

“I do a lot more tie tying than you do, though. Let’s see…”

Phoenix had to lean down as she began to work on the tie. Phoenix fought to maintain balance before she finally tightened it and tucked it back into his sweater vest. Franziska sat back as Phoenix finished straightening out his coat.

“Done?” Phoenix asked before turning to Miles to get his approval. 

“Yes, that’s quite nice, actually,” Miles remarked, inspecting the fascinating new knot. “Incredible work, Franziska.” 

“You’re welcome,” Franziska said with a shrug and headed into the dining hall.

“Well?” Phoenix asked with a shrug, as Franziska disappeared from sight. “Ready to go?”

“Yes, I suppose,” Miles nodded. 

When Miles and Phoenix stepped into the dining hall, Phoenix felt quite a bit more confident than he had been the night before. He looked much better than he had then, too, and was ready to face off against Manfred von Karma. 

“Good evening, sir,” Miles greeted his mentor. Von Karma’s eyes shifted between Miles and Phoenix from where he stood at the other side of the room.

“I trust you had a successful shopping trip this afternoon?” von Karma asked. 

“Yes,” Miles said with a nod. “We also stopped by Oskar’s to get Phoenix fitted for some tails to wear at tomorrow’s gathering.” 

“Ah, excellent,” von Karma hummed in approval. “Franziska, I trust they didn’t get into too much trouble?”

“No, Papa, I was sure to keep them in line,” Franziska promised.

“Excellent job, Franziska,” von Karma praised her. She glowed upon receiving the praise from her father. 

It wasn’t exactly praise-worthy, Phoenix thought silently to himself. All she did was trail after them, harassing Miles about their relationship. 

She didn’t even really help carry any of their bags. Not that Phoenix expected her to. But the praise from von Karma while he simultaneously glared at him and Miles derisively…Phoenix could easily see how Miles could be frustrated with them. 

While they chatted about the day, Phoenix thought about what the dinner would be tonight. At that moment, Hans appeared with the usual selection of pre-dinner wine glasses on a tray. 

With hardly any acknowledgement, the von Karmas each reached for their glasses. Miles silently claimed his own and finally it was Phoenix’s turn.  

“Thanks!” Phoenix smiled at the man, sure to convey his gratitude. It must have been tough to work for von Karma with little to no appreciation on a day-to-day basis. “And thanks again for helping us inside with our bags earlier!” 

The conversation came to a halt as Phoenix took his first sip of wine. He noticed the sudden stop and looked around, wondering what had caused the dead silence. 

“Wh—?” Phoenix started as he realized they were all looking at him. 

“Apologies, sir, I’ll…I’ll have a talk with him,” Miles said stiffly, his face burning bright in embarrassment. 

“Huh?” Phoenix said, his face creasing into a frown. 

“Come on,” Miles huffed, grabbing his hand and leading him back outside the dining room and down the hall a bit.  

“What is it? Is it seriously a rule that you have to treat your staff as if they’re just pieces of furniture!?” Phoenix hissed.

“It’s considered rude that you’re having a conversation with the wait staff while von Karma is talking with us,” Miles explained in a frustrated manner. “I didn’t think it’d be necessary, but I should have sent you to etiquette classes! I thought these kinds of things were common sense, but I should know better than to assume…”

“It wasn't a conversation!” Phoenix said, shrugging and throwing his hands in the air. “I was just thanking him. Besides, isn't it rude that you dragged your guest away while they were having a conversation?”

“They were no longer having a conversation since you interrupted!” Miles argued, gesturing with his hands back to the dining room. “Now, we’re going to go back in there and you’re going to apologize to von Karma, okay?” Miles clenched his fists tightly at his side.

Phoenix felt his face flush in embarrassment. It was like he was five years old again, getting admonished for silly things and then having to issue a formal apology? It was humiliating. 

He had to remind himself that Miles had not only paid his way here, but had just spent an outrageous amount of money on a new wardrobe for him. It wasn’t right to be angry about things like this. He had signed up for this, afterall. The pros greatly outweighed the cons. Phoenix took a deep breath and nodded, his eyes fixating back on Miles. 

“Fine,” Phoenix said through gritted teeth. “Yeah.” 

Miles blinked at him for a few moments, looking like there was something he wanted to say, but couldn’t come up with it before he gently tugged Phoenix back into the dining room. 

The conversation between von Karma and Franziska immediately ceased as they watched the two of them return to the dining room. They rejoined the von Karmas and the tension continued to hang in the air. 

“I—I sincerely apologize for my rude behavior,” Phoenix spoke up, hoping he was in the right to issue the apology without being prompted by someone else. Everything he did was now going to be under close scrutiny. Anxiety began to tie knots in his chest. Would he be able to survive the rest of the week like this?

“Apology accepted,” von Karma replied stiffly. “I suppose it was too much to hope that Miles picked someone…housebroken. ” 

Phoenix froze, his face contorting into a frown. His mouth hung open as if he wanted to say something in his own defense, but he didn’t want to make it worse. Miles was squeezing his forearm so hard, he was pretty sure it was going to bruise. 

“Perhaps before next year, you can pay for some etiquette courses before you come home,” Franziska offered. 

“He may need some before tomorrow’s gathering,” von Karma remarked before sipping at his wine. 

“I’ll ensure he doesn’t embarrass himself tomorrow,” Miles choked out. 

“Yes, I certainly hope you can,” von Karma sighed. 

“Why don’t we go ahead and take our seats?” Franziska prompted. “Hans has just announced that food would be here shortly.”

“Thank you, Franziska,” Miles said with a nod before escorting Phoenix to the same spots they sat in last night. Similar to the night before, Miles took out Phoenix’s chair for him and then pushed it in once he was seated before sitting down beside him. 

To Phoenix’s surprise, Miles reached out and squeezed his hand under the table. Phoenix glanced over at him, but Miles was still staring straight ahead, almost as if his hand was acting independently. With a small sigh, Phoenix squeezed the hand back and then Miles’s thumb began to rub comforting circles on the back of his hand. 

Phoenix felt the knot in his chest begin to loosen. 

Everything was okay. 

Miles was still on his side. 

Everything was okay.

It was quiet as their meal was brought out, and Phoenix was able to distract himself. He focused on the plates of food being placed in front of him. Despite this being the second dinner he was having with the von Karmas, he still felt completely out of place.

He waited and watched the others, trying to figure out what utensil he was meant to use. He couldn’t remember ever attending dinners this formal. The whole meal felt like a metaphorical minefield.

“Papa?” Franziska spoke up after a few bites. She set her silverware down for a moment to indicate there was something she wanted to talk about. 

“Yes, what is it?” von Karma asked before taking another bite of his own meal.

“I was wondering if we’ll be able to go to the Christmas Market on Christmas Day like we usually do? Since Phoenix Wright is here visiting, it’d do well to show him a traditional market, ja?” 

“Very well,” von Karma said with a shrug without raising his eyes from his plate. “I assume that’s agreeable with the two of you?”

Phoenix glanced at Miles quickly, now self-conscious about everything he said in the presence of Miles’s mentor. He was just waiting for another scolding about how he needed etiquette classes. When it was clear Phoenix wasn’t going to say anything, Miles sighed before speaking up.

“Yes, that would be quite nice,” Miles replied. “I would like to show Feenie around. Which one will we be going to?”

Phoenix fought down the shiver that went up his spine. Miles was still using the pet name he had picked up earlier. Despite the fact that Phoenix had told Miles to use it at the beginning of the week, it was still very strange to hear the cutesy nickname from Miles.

“Very well, we’ll plan on spending the day in Dresden,” von Karma decided. “It’s a little further, but worth the extra time it takes to get there.” 

“And what about the day after?” Franziska asked. 

“What about it?” Miles asked before von Karma could reply. 

“I was wondering if we could then take a day trip to Paris. It would be quite fun to go and spend some time there while Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright are here. Unless you had other plans?” Franziska asked, almost challenging Miles. 

“Ah, no, we don’t. That would be lovely,” Miles replied.  

“P-Paris?” Phoenix couldn’t help but squeak. She could just ask something like that? Especially after asking about traveling to the Christmas Market—to just…ask for a trip to Paris?

“It’s been quite a while since I’ve been to Paris…I’ll need to brush up on my French,” Miles agreed with a slight smile. “That would be quite romantic, wouldn’t it, Feenie, dear?” 

“I-I would love to go visit Paris!” Phoenix stammered, lighting up. 

“You’re sweet,” Miles chuckled. “Look at you, so excited about the prospect.” He reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair back behind Phoenix’s ear.

“Well, I told you—” Phenix flushed brightly “—I’ve never been out of the country before this week.” 

“You’ve never traveled before now?” Franziska asked. 

“We’ve been over this, Franziska von Karma,” Phoenix addressed her. “I’m a poor university student. In fact, the only reason I had my passport ready for coming this Christmas was in preparation for another trip,” Phoenix explained. “There were some friends in my classes who wanted to go down to Mexico for spring break, actually.”

“And you have money for that?” Franziska asked skeptically. 

“Well, it sounded like there were about five of us thinking about going. We were all going to pitch in money for a hotel room and drive down there. We’d just roll out blankets on the floor and stuff to cram us all in there into one room to save on costs,” Phoenix described. 

Von Karma’s eyes looked like they were about to bulge out of his head. 

“And were you planning on going with him, Miles?” von Karma asked. 

“Wh-Wh—I would never,” Miles gasped. “This is actually the first I’m hearing about this.”

“Really? You haven’t talked to Miles Edgeworth about this before making plans with your friends?” Franziska asked with a curious look on her face. 

“H-He doesn't have to tell me everything…” Miles trailed off.

Phoenix realized how weak of an argument that was, because if they had actually been dating he would have at least mentioned it to Miles before…  

“Heh, I mean, it was just an idea they were throwing around, but I thought I’d be prepared,” Phoenix said, trying to cover for them. “It’s a good thing I was, so I had everything ready to go when Miles asked me if I wanted to come with him this Christmas!” 

“Is that really something you’d actually go and do?” Miles asked. “Go to Mexico with several other people and share a room…?”

“Well, I was kinda thinking about it. I was just invited along, you know. Though I’m not sure if I’ll actually go. I’m the most responsible out of my friends, so I think they just wanted me to go and help take care of the reservations and such so they wouldn’t have to.” 

“Y-You’re the most responsible?” Franziska raised her eyebrows. 

“So, Mr. Wright,” von Karma said, turning his attention to Phoenix. Phoenix gulped. This was the first time von Karma addressed him on an individual level. “What are you studying in university?” 

“Oh!” Phoenix perked up, kind of excited—nervous, but excited—to tell Franziska and von Karma about his newly chosen career path. “Well, I’m actually—”

“He’s an art student,” Miles interrupted. Phoenix felt his stomach drop. “He’s incredibly talented.” 

Right. Avoid talking about work, Phoenix reminded himself. 

“An art student?” von Karma scoffed. “What a useless degree. What do you plan on doing with that?” von Karma asked. 

“A-Ah, I’m not sure yet!” Phoenix said, quickly jumping back on board with what Miles had interjected.  

“He doesn’t need to worry about a solid career if he doesn’t want to,” Miles continued, matter of factly. “If we’re wed, I’m happy to provide for the both of us.” 

“You’re just going to let him leech off of you?” Franziska huffed with a frown. 

“Oh! Can I be a trophy husband?” Phoenix giggled, ignoring Franziska. 

“Yes, of course, Feenie,” Miles said with a small smile. “You’d be a wonderful trophy husband.” 

“Ridiculous,” von Karma scoffed. “To lead such a boring and meaningless life.” 

“It wouldn’t be meaningless! I’d be more than happy to stay at home and cook for us and clean and then have an art studio to work on my artwork during the day…maybe I can open my own gallery!” Phoenix sighed dreamily, gazing at Miles, who blushed under Phoenix’s gaze. “All while my husband is making all the money as a high-profile prosecutor!” 

It all didn’t sound too bad actually, Phoenix thought, but shook the idea from his head.

“What about children?” Franziska asked with a smirk.

Phoenix felt his breathing hitch for a moment. Thinking back to earlier that day, when Miles had told him about Franziska confronting him about their false relationship…she was absolutely doing this on purpose.  

“Wh-What about them?” Miles asked, his voice raising an octave. 

“Will you have children with Phoenix Wright?” Franziska asked with a smile before taking a sip from her wine glass. 

“Franziska, please!” Miles stammered, blushing even brighter. 

“Well, if you’re talking about marriage…how long have you been dating again?” Franziska asked.

“S-Six months,” Phoenix replied quickly.

“W-We haven’t gotten to talking a-about that just yet,” Miles said. “W-We’ve barely talked about marriage.” 

Well, that was the truth at least, Phoenix snorted to himself.

“You haven’t? I find that strange, especially since you brought Phoenix Wright home to meet us. You must have some plans. You know, it’s smart to plan for your future,” Franziska continued. 

“Th-That’s enough, Franziska,” Miles repeated himself.  

“Yes, I think we’ve harassed them enough,” von Karma said, looking vaguely uncomfortable by the conversation topic. “Tell us how work is going, Miles,” von Karma requested. “Take any interesting cases recently?” 

Both Phoenix and Miles froze. They knew they wouldn’t be able to avoid this topic forever, but… 

“Ah, not really,” Miles said stiffly, not elaborating any further.

Von Karma hummed, waiting for more details, but sighed when none came. 

“Very well, how’s Deputy Chief Gant?” von Karma asked, trying to pull more information out of him. 

“He’s, erm, fine. I’ve only spoken to him on a handful of occasions this past year,” Miles replied. “I speak more to the detectives than to the Deputy Chief or Chief.” 

“That’s too bad. There are certain things I miss about working in America. One of them is him,” von Karma said with a satisfied look on his face. “That’s a man who knows how to do his job,” he continued. “Mark my words, he’ll be Chief of Police within the next five years. It’d do well for you to establish a working relationship with him now.” 

Miles drained his wine glass before waving Hans over for a refill.

Phoenix glanced anxiously between Miles and von Karma, trying to decide what he could do to help steer the conversation away from work practices. 

“I’m already on good terms with the Chief of Police here,” Franziska volunteered with a smug smile. “She’s incredible and she approves of the work I’ve done with them.” 

“Yes, and it’s served you well, especially in that case you took last month,” von Karma agreed. “But you still have quite a ways to run trials as proficiently as Miles does.”  

Franziska looked like she was biting the inside of her cheek as she glared at Miles, who seemed unfazed by the supposed praise from his mentor. Though Phoenix could hardly call it a compliment. 

“Feenie, dear?” Miles said softly as if he weren’t part of the conversation happening at the table. 

“Hm?” Phoenix glanced at Miles. 

“Pass the butter dish?” Miles asked. 

“Oh, yeah,” Phoenix reached out in front of him where the dish was sitting to slide it over to him. “Are you doing okay?” Phoenix asked softly as Franziska began to refute her father’s claims about how she ran trials. 

“It’s almost time for dessert. I’ll be fine,” Miles said simply as he reached his knife out to take a bit of butter from the dish. “As you said, it’s important for them to talk about work a bit, otherwise…” 

“Yeah,” Phoenix sighed. He reached out and gently, reassuringly, patted Miles’s leg. 

“Miles, why don’t you walk Franziska through your usual process after receiving your evidence and list of witness testimonies,” von Karma interrupted them. “Perhaps that will help her see the error of her ways.”

“Feenie doesn’t want to listen to us talk about work all night,” Miles replied softly before taking a bite of the roll he had been buttering. Phoenix wasn’t sure if he was just imagining it, but Franziska seemed a little relieved at Miles’s refusal. Despite her prodigy status, it seemed as if she weren’t eager to talk about work either. At least not when her father was comparing her to Miles at every turn. 

Phoenix didn’t offer an opinion either way. His instinct was to wave away Miles’s concern and say he didn’t mind, but he had been invited specifically to avoid this kind of conversation. 

“Maybe you guys will have a chance to talk about it later this week?” Phoenix offered to try to placate everyone. He hoped that this “rain check” would be easily forgotten by the next day.

“Yes, that sounds wonderful,” Miles said dryly before draining his wine glass once again. Phoenix struggled to keep up, trying to match the pace at which Miles was drinking his wine. Hans was waved over once again, refilling Miles’s glass and topping off Phoenix’s. 

It wasn’t long until their dinner plates were cleared away and cheesecake was brought out and served. The dining room was eerily silent except for the sound of silverware against their dessert plates.

Eventually, Miles sat back, setting down his silverware. Phoenix glanced over at him and his mostly finished dessert. 

“Miles, are you finished?” Phoenix asked. 

“Ah, yes, I can’t have another bite. Would you like the last of it?” Miles asked. 

Phoenix extended his fork, but before he could reach out and grab it up himself, Miles had already used his own fork to scoop it up, holding it out to offer Phoenix. Phoenix blinked for a moment, taking a moment to process what Miles was doing. 

Oh, right. 

Miles was…

Miles was hand-feeding him.

Okay, right. 

He leaned in and his eyes locked with Miles’s for a moment as his lips closed around the fork. Phoenix pulled back as the cheesecake began to melt in his mouth and he slowly began to chew. Their gazes remained locked for another moment before they turned back to their empty plates, their faces burning bright. Phoenix certainly hadn’t expected Miles to pull hand-feeding into his repertoire, but it left Phoenix feeling a little lightheaded and his stomach churned pleasantly. Judging by Miles’s own reaction, he seemed to be taken aback by his own actions. 

They were both breathless as an awkward tension hung in the air. It felt as if time had become painfully slow and Phoenix was desperate to break them of this spell.

“Th-The cheesecake was delicious!” Phoenix finally exclaimed a little too loudly to no one in particular. 

“If you’ll excuse us, I think we’ll be retiring now,” Miles said, pushing his chair back and standing abruptly to leave the table.

“Y-Yep, sounds good,” Phoenix said, following suit and standing from his chair. He had to chase after Miles who was already halfway across the room. “Goodnight!” he called before disappearing into the hallway after Miles. 

Phoenix sprinted to catch up to Miles who was charging back to their room with such intensity, Phoenix was worried that Miles was upset with him. 

“Hey, wait!” Phoenix called, finally catching up to him and grabbing ahold of his wrist. “Miles!”

“What?” Miles hissed, finally slowing down as he turned down the hallway to the guest wing. 

“Erm,” Phoenix said, hesitating. What did he really want to say after that abrupt end to their dinner? “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m just…tired is all,” Miles replied as he let them into their room. 

“Okay,” Phoenix sighed, following him inside and closing the door behind them. “Did I do anything to upset you?” he asked cautiously. “Was this about the thing that happened before dinner?”

“What? No,” Miles growled. “No, you’re fine. In fact, I’m…I’m sorry for being so short with you before dinner. It was…not becoming of me. I have no right in assuming that you’re well rehearsed in all these little intricacies that von Karma abides by…and I’m sorry, again, for von Karma…” 

“It’s okay,” Phoenix said softly. “I guess we both just have to work on making this as seamless as possible. I’ll…I’ll do my best to think before I speak.”  

“It’s…it’s fine, Wright. Don’t worry too much about it,” Miles said, tossing his suit jacket unceremoniously on top of the dresser.  Phoenix carefully followed suit, worried about wrinkling his new coat. He folded the jacket and laid it across his luggage.

“Okay,” Phoenix said, rolling up his sleeves as he stroked his chin in thought. “Why did you tell them I was still an art major? Is there a reason why you don’t want them to know I’m going to school to become a defense attorney, other than just the work talk?” Phoenix asked. It had been bugging him since the conversation had happened at dinner. He wanted to prove that he was competent enough to stand at their level, but if—in their eyes—he was just an art student in a room full of lawyers… 

It shouldn’t have bothered him. He was here to be used as Miles saw fit, but for whatever reason…it did bother him. Just a bit.  

“No, not particularly,” Miles sighed. “It just felt like it could easily create tension and I didn’t want any more discussion about it…” 

“Yeah, I figured,” Phoenix agreed. “I can go back to being an art student this week. I do kinda miss being one. Since I picked up law, I haven’t had many creative outlets, y’know? So I can play up the art student a bit. I even brought my sketchbook, my pencils, and my charcoals just in case we had some downtime…perhaps one evening we can sit and I can draw your portrait and impress von Karma and Franziska with my artistry!” Phoenix played up his excitement a bit. 

“Thank you, Phoenix,” Miles said, relief spreading across his features. 

“Yeah…yeah, sure thing,” Phoenix replied, his heart melting a bit upon hearing Miles say his name so softly.  

As they got ready for bed, Miles swayed slightly on his feet. Phoenix tried to think back and count how many glasses of wine Miles had and chuckled to himself when Miles collapsed into bed. 

“You okay, babe?” Phoenix asked in a teasing tone. 

There was a muffled mutter from Miles’s bed. 

“I’ll assume that’s a yes,” Phoenix chuckled. “Good night, Miles.”

“Good night, Phoenix,” Miles replied a little more clearly.

Phoenix laughed softly as he went over to the closet to set up his futon for the evening. It wasn’t long until he was hearing Miles’s soft snores. He carefully crept over to turn off the last of the lights and Phoenix was able to finish preparing his bed. He pulled himself under the covers and got comfortable.

Phoenix laid there in the dark, letting his thoughts wander back to dinner. He wondered if he could, indeed, impress the von Karmas with his art skills. He wasn’t amazing—not like many of the students in the Ivy U art department—but he certainly wasn’t bad. Phoenix decided he’d make it a goal to try to get von Karma to back off the “art is a useless degree.” After all, he still had friends in the program and he was defensive of them and their future professions since he had been in their position months earlier. He knew they’d do great things with their degrees, and they certainly weren’t useless.    

He heard a soft snore from the bed above him. Miles must have already fallen asleep.

Phoenix smiled to himself. The other man was quite endearing. It amazed him how soft and charming Miles was when he was playing up their relationship. It suited him. He had really turned on the charm since Franziska’s challenge earlier that afternoon: the extra attention, the hand-feeding, the sudden increase of pet name usage…

Miles had used “Feenie” so much that afternoon and evening. Phoenix felt as if it should have been a victory—that his heart should soar every time Miles used it. But instead…it felt wrong. It felt so wrong. Something dark stirred in the pit of his stomach every time Miles had said it. Maybe he’d talk to him tomorrow about it…and they could come up with something else Miles could use? An endearment that wasn’t connected to her…?  

He also couldn’t stop thinking about how Miles confessed that he cared what the von Karmas thought of him…and the subsequent feeling from Phoenix about the von Karmas knowing his true course of study. In Miles’s case, Phoenix still felt it might have to do with how ‘dating’ Phoenix reflected back on Miles. But part of him wondered if a small part of Miles’s reasoning was that…he did care for Phoenix. And that meant that it was possible that Miles cared what his adopted family thought of him?

However, Phoenix was at a loss as to why he was so bothered by having to don the art student persona once more…

Maybe…maybe he did care what the von Karmas thought, despite telling himself that he didn’t. Both of them knew that Phoenix would never come back and see them again. Why did they care so much?  

Another thought occurred to him. 

If they both cared so much about what the von Karmas thought…would Miles really be able to fake a break-up with him for his family’s benefit before next year? When Phoenix had joked about it earlier, Miles had brushed him off. 

And then there was today at the tailors, when the tailor had asked if he should keep Phoenix’s measurements on record…Miles insisted on keeping them. For what? Appearances? Or was he really hoping that Phoenix would come again next year? Was Phoenix going to be stuck in this pseudo-relationship for the rest of his life because Miles didn’t want to admit to his family he had broken up with his fake partner? 

Funnily enough, Phoenix wasn’t so distressed by that thought. 

It wasn’t as if he was ready to start dating again, or that he had any other prospects lined up. He hated to admit it, but his previous relationship had certainly left him…rattled. It was hard to even think about trusting his heart with another person just yet. So for right now, having a friend who was a fake boyfriend when needed, who took him on a trip to Europe for one week out of the year…well, that was just fine with him. 

Chapter Text

Phoenix Wright was dreaming. Again. He was sure of it.

He was in the park. This time he could see Dahlia’s face as she twirled her parasol, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was in conversation with someone else. A man…with his arms crossed over his chest, silver hair, and a maroon suit…Miles? 

Why was Miles talking with Dahlia of all people? They began laughing over something one of them had said before they both turned their attention back to Phoenix who hadn’t even realized he had a corporeal form in his dream. Suddenly, even though their lips didn’t move, Phoenix could hear both of their voices repeating over and over again—

Feenie? Feenie! Oh, Feenie! Feenie, dear… 

Their voices echoed around him as if they were amplified in a large performance hall. 

Somehow, they were now in court—except, Dahlia was behind the bench opposite of Miles and Phoenix stood at the witness stand. Instead of a standard court case, they argued back and forth about the best way to kill him. 

“Poison, obviously. Simple, easy, he won’t even know what happened,” Dahlia’s melodic voice said confidently.

“I agree it would be effective, but too messy and too slow. Obviously, it would be easier to just suffocate him. If you do it right, you can watch the life fade from his eyes,” Miles argued, almost casually.

Phoenix looked down. Dahlia’s pendant had appeared around his neck and it felt extremely heavy. The chain dug into his neck, rubbing his skin raw.

The courtroom itself was empty and there was no judge at the judge’s bench. Instead, it was Doug Swallow, watching the two parties debate with an I-told-you-so look directed at Phoenix.

Phoenix choked every time he had tried to open his mouth and protest. He pulled at the red scarf that was wrapped around his neck, certain that it was the source of his suffocation. The scarf only got tighter around his neck as he struggled to breathe.

The necklace began to weigh him down further as he continued to struggle for air. He grasped at the witness stand, trying to stay upright. 

Neither Miles nor Dahlia acknowledged him. He tried calling for help—to Miles, to Dahlia—to Doug, who was still sitting there watching with a smug smile on his face.

Just as his vision was fading and he felt like he was about to collapse, he jerked awake, wide-eyed in the dim room. 

“No, no, no, no!” Phoenix gasped as he reached up to feel for his neck, realizing there was nothing there. He still felt the phantom weight of Dahlia’s necklace against his chest. He rubbed the area absently, trying to get rid of the sensation. 

He sat there breathing heavily for a few moments, his heart still racing. Phoenix glanced up to the bed where Miles was still sound asleep. All he could see was a small tuft of silver hair under his duvet. His heart still ached from hearing the awful things Miles said in his dream. He tried to assure himself that it was fine—that Miles would never say such things about him…

However, if he had the same dream about Dahlia last year before the trial he would have said the same thing. Dollie would never say such cruel things! So…could Miles really be harboring such vile feelings under his cool and collected demeanor?  

Phoenix pulled himself out of bed and distracted himself by sorting through the clothes he had. He then decided to go and take a shower and settled with just some fresh underwear and a change of lounge clothes. Phoenix figured he could ask Miles about what clothes he should wear before the party once he was awake. 

He slipped silently out of the room and towards the bathroom to take his shower. 

Quickly he turned the spigots to get the water running as his thoughts continued to flash in and out of his dream. He was trying not to think about it, but the unpleasant feelings lingering after his dream kept pushing their way into his mind. Phoenix absently rubbed his throat and his chest in a comforting manner. He stared at the water flowing from the showerhead, still not feeling completely awake. 

Finally, he blinked and pulled himself out of his reverie. Phoenix prayed that the warm shower would distract him from his dour mood. As he lathered up he tried to distract himself by remembering some show tunes the theater department had done the past few years. He began to hum them and sing some lyrics to himself, happily concentrating on those words instead of his upsetting dream. 

Once he was finished rinsing away the soap, he turned off the shower and stepped out of the tub to begin drying off, still humming to himself. He pulled on the fresh underwear and lounge pants and hung up his used towel.

As Phoenix returned to the room he noticed the small basket of laundry sitting beside their bedroom door. It must have been all the pieces Miles sent to be laundered the night before. Phoenix set his dirty clothes on top and hoisted the basket up before letting himself back into the room as quietly as he could.

However, Miles rolled over as he began to wake up. 

“S-Sorry, if I woke you,” Phoenix said softly, putting the basket down just inside the door. 

“Ah, the laundry…y-you’ve already showered? You’re an earlier riser than I pegged you for,” Miles remarked as he sat up. 

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t really sleep anymore,” Phoenix said quietly, shutting the door behind him.

“I-I wasn’t snoring or anything, was I?” Miles asked, seeming a little mortified that Phoenix was awake before him. 

Honestly, Miles did snore a bit. But it wasn’t disruptive or loud. It was soft and…endearing. 

“No, no, it wasn’t that, I promise!” Phoenix quickly said. “I just…” he trailed off, “woke up and couldn’t sleep anymore.”

“Very well,” Miles yawned and rubbed at his eyes. “I shall go take my own shower and we can decide what you’re wearing today before the party.”

“Y-Yeah,” Phoenix said with a nod. “Sounds good.” 

Phoenix busied himself with folding away his futon as his thoughts continued to weigh heavily on his mind. 

“I’ll return shortly,” Miles announced after he had grabbed his clothes and toiletries and headed for the door. 

“H-Hey Miles, wait,” Phoenix spoke up before he left the room. 

“What is it?” Miles faltered, taking a step back into the room again, upon noticing Phoenix’s hesitance.

Phoenix wasn’t sure what he actually wanted to ask. Am I a nuisance to you? Do you hate me? Do you want to kill me? 

“Phoenix? Are you okay? You look…pale…” Miles remarked. “Are you ill?” 

“N-No,” Phoenix said. The sincere look in his eyes quelled Phoenix’s mind for a moment before he snapped back to his panicked state. 

Dollie was the same. She had been just as sincere with the way she looked at him and in the end, she was still… 

“S-Sorry to worry you. I-I’m fine, really,” Phoenix said. “Totally blanked on what I was gonna ask you.” 

Miles frowned, looking a little confused by Phoenix’s behavior.

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Miles muttered, before turning and leaving the room. 

Phoenix finished putting away his futon before going over to the laundry basket and carefully unloading it. He sorted the clothes so Miles could easily see them and pick something out for him.  

Once that was done, Phoenix went to pack away his dirty clothes and toiletries. But before he finished, he spotted his toothbrush in his bag and remembered that he had forgotten to brush his teeth when he had gone to shower earlier. He dug out the toothbrush and toothpaste and stood there for a moment. 

Miles was in the bathroom now, but…Phoenix carefully crept towards the door of their room and pushed the door open a sliver, straining his ears. It sounded like the shower was no longer running and the hairdryer was on, which meant Miles was already out and dressed. 

Phoenix pulled the door open completely and headed down the hall to the closed door of the washroom. He gently knocked before opening the door and slipping inside. Miles all but squawked at the intrusion as he turned off the hairdryer. 

“Wright!” he hissed. “What are you—”

“Brushing my teeth?” Phoenix said, raising the toothbrush and toothpaste in his hand as if to verify.  

“Yes, but why couldn’t you wait!?” Miles snapped.

“Sorry, I didn’t feel like sitting around anymore and I heard the hairdryer so I knew you were out of the shower…” Phoenix muttered with a shrug.

“I could have still been undressed!” Miles hissed. Phoenix couldn’t help but chuckle at how downright adorable it was when Miles was flustered and blushing.

“Hey, it doesn’t matter, right? We’re dating, remember? By the way, you look cute,” Phoenix commented. “Will you let me brush my teeth? Or do you really want me to wait until you’re done?” 

“No…it’s—it’s fine, you can stay and brush your teeth,” Miles sighed. Phoenix thought he heard Miles mutter something under his breath, but all he caught was the word “cute.”

They stood side by side at the single-sink vanity, as Phoenix began to brush his teeth. There was a simple domesticity to the scenario and Phoenix finally began to feel at peace again after his nightmare. He finished up and put the cap back on his toothpaste, as Miles put the hairdryer away, his hair styled as it usually was. 

“Finished?” Miles asked as he collected his things. 

“Yep! Do you wanna give me a kiss? I’m nice and minty fresh now,” Phoenix offered, leaning forward with a smirk. Miles reached up and pushed his face away. Phoenix gave him an over-the-top pout. That was the response he had expected, but not what he had hoped for.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Miles sighed. “Come on, let’s decide what you’re wearing this morning.”

x

They returned to their room and Miles made quick work of sorting through the clothes they had purchased the day before. He handed Phoenix a combination of clothes and Phoenix stripped out of his PJs to change. 

Miles simply rolled his eyes and turned his back to Phoenix to allow him some privacy. 

When they arrived downstairs for breakfast, there were already people moving about and getting the place ready for that evening's gathering.

“What time is the party?” Phoenix asked softly, grabbing hold of Miles’s hand as they passed a group of caterers discussing the food that needed to be delivered that afternoon. 

“Seven,” Miles said simply, steering Phoenix in the direction of the dining room. 

“Wow,” Phoenix breathed. “Von Karma really has people here like twelve hours before?”

“The preparations and setup do take some time,” Miles continued as they reached the dining room. As they entered, both von Karma and Franziska were already seated. Von Karma had a newspaper in front of him and Franziska had busied herself with preparing her tea the way she liked it. 

“Good morning, little brother. Good morning, Phoenix Wright,” Franziska greeted them.

“Erm, good morning!” Phoenix offered a small smile at the youngest von Karma.

“Did you sleep well?” Franziska asked. 

“Yes, we did, thank you,” Miles replied instantly for the both of them. Phoenix’s nightmare flashed through his mind again and he subconsciously reached up and touched his neck.

“Wh-What’s for breakfast this morning?” Phoenix asked. 

“Same thing as usual,” Franziska said with a frown in confusion. 

“Oh, right, yes—I didn’t know if there was a special new course every morning,” Phoenix chuckled weakly. 

“That’s only for dinner,” Franziska said, rolling her eyes. 

“Come sit, dear,” Miles said, stepping forward to pull out the chair Phoenix had sat in the night before. 

“Thanks, babe,” Phoenix replied with a smile as he sat down, scooting in with Miles’s help. 

“When will Oskar and Laurin be here today?” Miles asked von Karma as he sat in his own place beside Phoenix. 

Von Karma sat his newspaper down and checked his pocket watch, the first motion that indicated that he acknowledged their presence. 

“They’ll be here in a few hours,” von Karma said before tucking the watch away. Once it was secured, he closed the newspaper and stood from his chair at the head of the table. “I have some work to finish before this evening. I look forward to seeing you all at the gathering,” he said flatly as if he didn’t care at all about seeing them that evening. 

With that, von Karma left the dining room, leaving Franziska, Miles, and Phoenix in silence. 

“So, uh…were we late to breakfast?” Phoenix asked quietly, directed at Miles but also glancing at Franziska. 

“Sometimes Papa skips breakfast if he’s working on or worried about something,” Franziska replied quietly.  “Hans will take him a small portion up to his office so he eats a little regardless.” 

“Right, erm, okay,” Phoenix said hesitantly. 

“Are you nervous about tonight’s gathering, Phoenix Wright?” Franziska asked. 

“I-Is it that obvious?” Phoenix chuckled weakly. 

“You’ll be fine, dear,” Miles said softly. 

“You don’t know that! The fanciest thing I’ve ever been to was a friend’s art gallery opening,” Phoenix muttered. 

“Feenie, breathe,” Miles said, reaching out to gently rub Phoenix’s back. 

Phoenix shuddered at that cursed nickname again. That dream last night hadn’t helped things…

“Just stay by my side and you’ll be okay,” Miles continued.

Phoenix groaned, not quite believing Miles. They continued to eat their breakfast and Franziska and Miles reminisced about previous parties in the years prior. Those stories didn’t quite bolster Phoenix’s confidence. The party seemed even more intimidating. Listening to the party fouls others had made should have been a learning experience, but it had only assured Phoenix that it was possible to fuck up in a wide variety of ways. 

Once they were done and their breakfast plates were cleared away, Miles spoke up.

“Why don’t we decorate the tree in the parlor? That’s usually where the tailors set up before the party so we can spend our morning there while we wait. Will you join us, Franziska?” Miles asked. 

“That’s something usually we do together before the party,” Franziska pouted, folding her arms across her chest. Miles gave an exasperated sigh. 

“What am I going to do, send Phoenix away to spend the morning alone?” Miles asked sardonically.

“Yes,” Franziska said with a shrug. 

“No, Franziska,” Miles said, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Maybe it’s time we create some new traditions, hm?”

Traditions they wouldn’t have next year, Phoenix thought to himself. At least, not with him.

Phoenix felt somewhat bitter about that realization, even though he had no right to be. He knew when he agreed to this—when he had suggested this stupid idea—that this was a one-time thing. Miles would use him for this holiday and in the future…

Well.

What was Miles going to do in the future? Would he be fine visiting and talking about work? Or did Miles wish to avoid talking to them about work for the foreseeable future? He wondered if there was a chance that he could get another Christmas or two out of Miles and his need for a fake boyfriend. 

Maybe the von Karmas would come to visit in America…? Phoenix tried to imagine how that would go— 

But what about in between? Would they keep in contact? Would they remain friends? Go on friend dates? Hold hands…like they were doing this week? 

Maybe become something a little more than friends, after all was said and done…?

Phoenix was lost in his thoughts until Miles called him out of them. 

“Are you really sure you’re okay? You’re unusually quiet. You look…tired,” Miles said softly as Franziska disappeared from the dining room, heading for whatever parlor had the tree.

“I’m fine, Miles,” Phoenix assured him with a gentle squeeze of his hand. “It’s…just the jet lag catching up to me, okay?”

“If you’re sure. You don’t really have to decorate the tree with us. If you’d rather return to our room and nap until the party, you’re welcome to,” Miles offered.  

“Now, that’s not very good optics,” Phoenix protested, with a small smirk. “I’ll help with the tree. It’s been a while since I’ve decorated one, though.” 

“It’s not something that requires particular skill,” Miles assured him. “Now, come on, I believe Franziska will already be in the parlor unpacking ornaments.”

x

Phoenix followed Miles out of the dining hall and to the von Karmas’ largest parlor-slash-library. He wasn’t sure what to call it. It was cozy enough to be a parlor but had enough shelves packed with books to be a library. 

In one corner of the room stood a large pine tree, probably about eight feet tall. 

“Wow,” Phoenix sighed as Franziska dug out the boxes of ornaments and trimmings. 

“Is this everything?” Miles asked, reaching for a roll of ribbon and pulling the end a bit to study it. 

“It should be,” Franziska replied. 

“Okay, why don’t you go and fetch the ladder, Franziska,” Miles suggested. “We can start hanging the decorations on the upper branches and work our way down.”

“Very well. Do you want the ladder or the step-ladder?” Franziska asked before heading out to find what had been requested of her. Miles frowned in confusion.

“What does it matter? They’re the same thing, aren’t they?” Miles asked. 

“No, they’re not,” Phoenix protested at the same time that Franziska argued with a pout, “They most certainly are not.”

Both Franziska and Phoenix were taken aback by their simultaneous responses and glanced at each other, an uneasy chuckle coming from Phoenix. 

“What on earth…? What—pray tell—is the difference?” Miles asked, folding his arms across his chest, glancing between the two of them. “What am I missing?”

“It’s obvious!” Franziska claimed as she rolled her eyes. When she didn’t seem like she was going to elaborate, Phoenix spoke up.

“Well, one is a straight up and down ladder,” Phoenix replied. “Step-ladders are more angled and have more…you know, step area to them?”

“Both of them have ‘step-areas,’ right? So they can both be referred to as step-ladders or ladders for short,” Miles argued. 

“They’re two different categories, Miles Edgeworth,” Franziska confirmed. “I’ll go get us a step-ladder.” 

Miles rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, fine, whatever,” Miles muttered as he began to unwind the tinsel in the box of Christmas things as well. Phoenix snickered before composing himself and asking Miles what he could help with.

x

It was another few hours of hanging lights, tinsel, ribbons, and indigo bauble ornaments. Phoenix was in awe of how beautifully it was coming together. 

Franziska was eager to direct them in what needed to go where. There were a few moments where Miles had to help Phoenix on the step-ladder, holding one part of the light string or tinsel. 

It seemed like everything had its perfect spot on the tree. The ornaments aligned perfectly with the ribbon and the muted colors synchronized to create a paragon of beauty. It felt very in line with how this family seemed to operate, Phoenix thought to himself. Not a single decoration out of place. Perfection.

Eventually, Hans opened the door to the parlor and announced the tailors. He also brought a small platter of sandwiches for a quick lunch in between decorating and getting ready for the party.

Miles turned and thanked Hans as Franziska tucked the last ornament on the back of the tree. Phoenix smiled at the familiar tailors. He felt some of his nerves soothed, relaxing around the kind tailor and his assistant.

“We’ll get set up while you three finish trimming the tree,” Oskar greeted them. 

“Danke, ” Miles thanked them with a small wave.  

They finished with the last of the decor and Franziska tucked the boxes away, now that the tree was finished. They all grabbed a quick bite to eat off the luncheon tray.

Oskar and Laurin were just about done setting up. They had brought what looked like a mini version of their shop. There were small portable stools and movable tri-fold mirrors. Phoenix watched them excitedly as they brought out the mostly complete suits and hung them up. 

“Wait, Miles, you got a new suit too? How come you didn’t have to get measurements?” Phoenix asked. 

“Oskar already had my measurements. While you were getting fitted, I decided to go ahead and get a suit that would complement yours.” 

“Oh, right,” Phoenix muttered as he blushed. He stepped forward and took his own suit first to go and change. Laurin had just finished putting up a privacy screen in the corner of the parlor and Phoenix went behind it. 

He had been nervous about this whole mess, but he was a little excited to get dressed up…and in turn, see Miles all dressed up. Well…more dressed up than usual, Phoenix supposed.

Phoenix struggled to figure out how to wear the unfinished suit. It wasn’t quite as straightforward as a finished suit. The shirt at least was familiar. He pulled that on but stared at the rest of the suit in confusion. He figured he’d try the pants next. That should be easy enough. But they seemed to be inside out. The seams were sticking out and the stitching looked random. 

Well, worst case scenario, Oskar could get him sorted out, hopefully without embarrassing himself too much in front of Miles and Franziska. 

He then reached for the suit jacket but realized the waistcoat underneath it. Should he put both of them on? 

“Everything okay, Feenie?” Miles asked over the privacy screen. 

“Uh, yeah,” Phoenix said with a wince. “Sorry.” 

Phoenix quickly pulled on the waistcoat and then the unfinished suit jacket. 

Once Phoenix had finally managed to get everything on, he came around the privacy screen and stepped up onto the platform where Oskar had indicated. 

Next, Miles took his own suit and disappeared behind the screen as well. Phoenix looked around and noticed that Franziska had disappeared. She must have gone to get ready herself. 

As Oskar set to work, he made pleasant small talk with Phoenix by asking how he was enjoying Germany and how the holidays with the von Karmas were treating him. He nervously answered as he met his reflection's gaze and admired the suit once again.

Miles finally came around from the privacy screen, and Phoenix loudly swallowed. Miles looked so handsome in the custom-fit suit. It wasn’t as if seeing Miles in a suit was any kind of rarity, but there was something about the specific maroon silk trimmings and the subtle gold embroidery of the suit that looked especially handsome. He met Phoenix’s eyes for a moment, giving him a small smile that made Phoenix weak at the knees.

“I’m particularly proud of how that one looks,” Oskar said as Miles stepped onto the stool. “It suits Mr. Edgeworth well, doesn’t it?” Oskar said, addressing Phoenix as if he could read Phoenix’s thoughts. Or perhaps he could tell how wobbly his knees were. 

“It certainly does,” Phoenix blushed with an encouraging smile towards Miles, who also flushed brightly, avoiding Phoenix’s gaze and looking straight ahead into the mirror. 

Laurin helped Miles with a few last minute adjustments, and then with the accessories on his suit. That included the pocket square and his ascot—which was a shimmery navy blue, that seemed to match Phoenix’s suit coat. 

Phoenix smiled softly to himself, imagining how the both of them would look, standing together at the party. He couldn’t help but feel a little giddy, sneaking glances over at Miles. Miles looked up and met Phoenix’s gaze in the reflection of one of the angled mirror panels. He quickly averted his gaze, pretending as if he’d never noticed Phoenix looking over at him. 

Laurin continued to work on the final touches with some quiet discussion with Oskar in German. Then finally, Laurin stepped away and Miles’s suit was done.

“God, babe, you look incredible!” Phoenix exclaimed with a grin as Oskar gave a hem on the underside of his jacket a quick stitch. Miles blushed so brightly, Phoenix thought he was about to pass out. 

“Th-Thank you,” Miles stammered as he stepped down. He disappeared behind Phoenix and out of view of the mirror as well. 

At that time, the door opened to the study, and Franziska reappeared. She was dressed in the most expensive and beautiful dress Phoenix had ever seen. It was a midnight blue, covered in intricate beaded patterns and it sparkled in the light of the parlor. The skirt of the dress flared out around the waist and long gloves crawled up her arms. Tulle enshrouded her shoulders elegantly, but also maintained the innocence of a young princess in a kid’s film. It suited her. 

“Frau von Karma, you look amazing,” Laurin greeted her as they continued to straighten out their work station and began to put their tools away. 

“Thank you,” Franziska said in a much more confident and composed voice than Miles had responded with a moment earlier. “Laurin, I was wondering if you could help me with my hair like you did last year?” she requested. “If you’re done fitting my little brother.” 

“Yes, of course, I’d be more than happy to,” Laurin agreed. TheyLaurin wheeled their portable desk of all their tools over in front of the mirror. 

“Wow, you’re a tailor but also do hair and makeup?” Phoenix asked. 

“I’m by no means a professional,” Laurin admitted sheepishly as Franziska took a seat in front of the mirror. “But I had little sisters that I helped raise. When they wanted to try something, they’d ask me to help them. I kind of gained an appreciation for the art, even if I rarely use it myself.” 

Phoenix grinned at Franziska who was glancing at him through the mirror that she now sat in front of. Laurin pulled out a small tray of cosmetics that had been tucked away in their supplies. Phoenix wondered if Laurin had anticipated this turn of events. 

Miles returned, holding something in his hands as Oskar finished straightening out the last of his work.

“Well, I believe you’re all ready to go, Mr. Wright. The last thing will be the cravat and I believe Mr. Edgeworth has that for you,” Oskar said, looking over his shoulder to see Miles with the ascot. “I’ll…go clean up my workstation,” Oskar said, stepping away. 

Phoenix remained standing on the small platform as Miles brought the cravat around his neck to finish off his look. 

To distract himself from how close they were standing, Miles began to talk about the history of neckwear, dating back to the Romans…

Phoenix zoned out, his eyes simply concentrating on Miles’s mouth…his lips when he spoke, his nervous habits, like placing his tongue between his teeth in between sentences…

“Anyway…I picked this specific style because it usually requires a pin or a brooch to secure it,” Miles explained as he continued to adjust the knot. 

“Why did you need it to have a pin?” Phoenix asked. “It seems like you’re adding another layer of complication,” he said with a pout. 

“Because I had this—I thought that it might look quite nice on you,” Miles said, fishing out the object he had placed in his pocket earlier. “I wasn’t sure if it would work, which is why I have the backup pin, but…” 

Phoenix reached up and took a hold of it as Miles continued to fuss with how the ascot was lying. 

“Wow,” Phoenix turned it over in his hand as he looked at it. It was a silver brooch with rubies inlaid and looked like a bird of some kind. “It’s…gorgeous, Miles.” 

“It’s actually a phoenix, I believe,” Miles explained, avoiding Phoenix’s gaze. 

“W-Wait, for real?” Phoenix smiled down at the brooch in his hand. “You already had this picked out?” he asked, his stomach swooping pleasantly at the idea Miles had already planned that far ahead.

Miles began to flush pink. 

“Well, yes. I’ve been looking for an opportunity to use it…it was my mother’s.”

“Y-Your mother?” Phoenix asked, his voice going soft, giving the pin back to Miles. “You…you’ve never talked about your mother.”

“Well, there’s not much to talk about,” Miles said as he began to secure the pin into the folds of the fabric. “She died when I was young, or that’s what my father said. I never knew her. But I still have some of her things…things my father had kept to remember her by…” Miles let go of the pin once it was secure and continued fussing with the ascot to lay nicely around the brooch.

“Well, thank you…I appreciate it,” Phoenix said softly, reaching up and grasping Miles’s hands against his chest to keep him from fussing anymore. Miles’s face continued to burn a bright red, and he glanced sideways to see Franziska watching them through the reflection in the mirror as Laurin brushed through her hair.

Phoenix followed his gaze and realized that Miles had noticed that she was watching them. Without thinking, Phoenix reached out and used a finger to gently redirect Miles’s gaze back to himself, slowly drawing closer and dipping his head to gently press his lips to Miles’s in a chaste kiss. 

“W-Wright,” Miles breathed as he pulled away in shock. 

“Hey, hey, hold it together. Remember, Franziska is watching,” Phoenix murmured against Miles’s lips, his eyes fluttering open, glancing down at him through a half-lidded gaze. He leaned down again and pressed another soft kiss to Miles’s lips that Miles hesitantly returned, his lips parting for a moment, which made Phoenix’s stomach do somersaults. Phoenix pulled away again and licked his lips before a horrifying realization came over him. 

He’d…

He’d just kissed Miles without his express consent. 

Immediately, he was reminded of the conversation they’d had at the airport a few days ago about personal boundaries. He also thought about that morning when he had teasingly offered to kiss Miles, and he had pushed him away. Miles frowned as he began to see the panic build behind Phoenix’s expression.

“I…I think we’re going to…to head out to where the preparations are being finalized,” Miles announced, his eyes not leaving Phoenix’s panicked gaze. Miles took his hands and gently guided him out of the room.  

Once they were out in the hall, Miles continued to lead Phoenix—not to where the party was being set up, but rather away from it. Miles found a smaller parlor where they wouldn’t be disturbed and led them inside, closing the door behind him. 

“Wright…? You really don’t look well. Are you sure you’re okay?” Miles asked, still a little flushed. However, he looked confused, trying to establish why Phoenix looked so grief-stricken all of a sudden. 

“Oh, my god, Miles,” Phoenix breathed. “I’m sorry, I’m an idiot, I pressured you into— I’m an idiot, I didn’t— you didn’t consent, I’m sorry, I’m an asshole, I’m a complete and total asshole, and I made you—and you didn’t want to—I’m so sorry, Miles. I wasn’t even thinking, and you’ve been acting over the top in front of her since you know she’s skeptical s-so—so I thought you might want me to—” he stammered, on the verge of tears. “But that’s no excuse for—” 

“Oh, good heavens,” Miles groaned. “Wright— Phoenix , breathe.” He reached out and took Phoenix’s hands in his own. 

“B-But I-I betrayed your trust—” Phoenix shuddered and sniffled, trying to keep his tears from falling.  

“Phoenix, no. You did nothing wrong. Remember, I am the one who asked you to be my fake boyfriend, and you’re performing your job… incredibly well,” Miles assured him in a soft voice. “Indeed, Franziska is still wary of your status as my boyfriend, as evidenced by the fact that she was watching us so closely; ergo, that was very well played, and you’re welcome to…you’re welcome to react as you see fit. As we established before, I will let you know if I feel uncomfortable in any way—” 

“B-But I didn’t even give you a chance to tell me if you were uncomfortable or not,” Phoenix said in a strained voice.

“Phoenix…breathe and listen to me. Am I telling you otherwise right now?” 

“I-I don’t know,” Phoenix whispered as he rubbed at his watery eyes. “Are you?”

Miles sighed deeply. 

“No, I’m not,” Miles said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I—I suppose I’m saying that you’re welcome to…i-initiate t-things like that. I’m giving you permission.” 

“R-Really?” Phoenix raised his eyebrows as his hands went from his watery eyes to rubbing his runny nose on the back of his hand. 

“Oh, for heaven's sake,” Miles muttered, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket to give to Phoenix. “Clean yourself up.”

Phoenix gave him a watery chuckle as he took it and blew his nose. Once satisfied, he started handing the handkerchief back to Miles. 

“No—!” Miles exclaimed in a disgusted tone and backed away. “N-No, you—you hold on to that,” he said with a shudder, trying to regain his composure.  

Phoenix began laughing at Miles’s reaction as he stashed the handkerchief away in his own coat pocket. 

“C-Can I give you a hug now?” Phoenix asked, nervously playing with his fingers. 

Miles sighed, letting his shoulders sag. “Very well,” He agreed, slightly extending his arms in a hesitant gesture. 

Phoenix smiled brightly as he took the invitation and surged forward to wrap his arms around Miles.  “You’re the best fake boyfriend ever,” he said against Miles’s shoulder, squeezing him tightly.

“You had better not be getting snot on my suit jacket, Wright,” Miles replied.

“I’m not! I’m not,” Phoenix laughed as he pulled away and inspected the jacket for any trace of his tears or mucus. There was a small spot of wetness on the other man's shoulder, and Phoenix quickly rubbed at it. “Y-Yep, it’s fine!” 

Before Miles could say anything else, Phoenix was distracted, seemingly just noticing the baby grand piano in the corner of the sitting room. 

“Wow!” Phoenix gasped. “Sorry, I just—can I?” 

“What? You…you play?” Miles frowned. 

“Ah, no not really. I’m jealous of my friends that can…I know how to play Chopsticks and some scales, but that’s it,” Phoenix chuckled. Without waiting for Miles’s permission he went and sat behind it and gently lifted the lid. 

He was mesmerized by the perfect, shiny ivory keys. He hesitantly reached out and lightly tapped middle C on the keyboard. The beautiful tone of the piano sang in the room. 

“Do you know how to play?” Phoenix asked, looking up at Miles expectantly. 

“I used to take lessons…here in this very room in fact. I still prefer the flute over the piano though,” Miles explained, stepping forward. 

“Oh, I remember you playing flute,” Phoenix said, softly tapping a few more keys experimentally. “You got some award for it didn’t you?” 

Miles scoffed. 

“So what made you pick up piano and not the flute again?” Phoenix asked. “Or did you also get flute lessons here?”

“No…unfortunately, von Karma insisted I learn to play the piano. It was a much more…functional skill,” Miles said, looking down at the piano. “One that Franziska was also learning. One of the many things he liked to pit us against each other with.”

“What?” Phoenix asked with a frown, his fingers going still on the keys. “He really did that?”

“You saw how he was at dinner the other night. He only believes we’ll grow by harboring a ‘healthy competition’ with each other. In all things,” Miles reflected. “And Franziska was— is so eager to please him…to prove that her von Karma blood is superior.”

“That…must have been rough,” Phoenix muttered, folding his hands in his lap, regretting that he brought the topic up. 

“Not much to do about it now,” Miles sighed, his shoulders slouching a bit. “It’s easier when we don’t live on the same continent.” 

“But difficult when you see them in concentrated bursts of time, like the holidays,” Phoenix said, finishing the thought with a thoughtful nod. 

“Precisely,” Miles confirmed. 

“Do you know anything on the piano still?” Phoenix finally asked. “I’m not going to judge how good you are. You’re already aware that I know next to nothing.” 

“Ah, I doubt I remember much,” Miles said with a shrug, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“C’mon, just to see,” Phoenix pleaded, scooting over on the bench to make room for Miles. 

Miles hesitated for a moment before giving in and sliding onto the bench beside Phoenix. Phoenix watched expectantly as Miles slid his fingers into position. He tested out a few notes of something he must have memorized at one point for a recital or something. It was slow and a little choppy, but Phoenix was mesmerized all the same. 

“I’m too rusty,” Miles grumbled as he gave up, sliding his hands off the keys. 

“I thought it sounded amazing,” Phoenix assured him. “I’m impressed. I really am!” 

“It’s not much,” Miles said, rolling his eyes before reaching out and sliding the lid over the keys. “I suppose we should probably head out to join the others.”

“I suppose,” Phoenix sighed. Part of him wanted to hide in this parlor the entire evening and listen to Miles try to remember more pieces he had memorized. Something told him Miles would prefer to do that too. But…they had obligations to fulfill.

“Yeah. Yeah, we should probably do that after saying that we were,” Phoenix agreed. 

In silence, they each slid off the piano bench in opposite directions. 

“Are you ready?” Miles asked, his hand hesitating on the door handle. 

“As I’ll ever be,” Phoenix chuckled nervously, reaching out to grasp Miles’s unoccupied hand. Miles pushed the door open and silently led them out into a hall and made their way back towards the commotion of the party arrangements.

They heard the telltale sign of live musicians warming up as they got closer. Phoenix’s face lit up, looking to Miles for an explanation. 

“Yes…von Karma has a string quartet that performs every year,” Miles offered. 

“Wow!” Phoenix grinned, picking up the pace down the hall. 

“Phoenix, slow down!” Miles groused as he struggled to keep up.

They entered the large entertaining hall, and Franziska was already there. Her hair had been pulled back in parts and pinned with more dazzling sapphire crystals in her dusky silvery blue hair. There was a bit of color to her lips and cheeks—Laurin’s doing, Phoenix was sure. 

She was already talking to what looked like one of the caterers and another part of the waitstaff that had a tray of hors d'oeuvres that she was sampling. Miles and Phoenix’s entrance caught her eye. She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes at them. 

“Well, good news,” Phoenix chuckled under his breath. “She probably thought you dragged me out of there to make out with me in private before the party started or something. Something about how you couldn’t keep your hands off me with how attractive I look in this suit.”

“ Wright ,” Miles sighed. “You’re not helping. You…you do look handsome, though,” he muttered. 

 Phoenix grinned at him and continued to chuckle. “I do, don’t I?” he said with a smug smile on his face. 

When they reached where Franziska was standing, one of the waitstaff walked by offering them flutes of champagne. Miles and Phoenix took one. 

Miles said something in German to the caterer as he also took one of the small bites of food off the tray and offered it to Phoenix. 

Phoenix wasn’t completely sure what it was, but it looked good, and he guided Miles’s hand to his mouth in a gesture to suggest Miles should hand-feed him again. Perhaps he was growing confident after their conversation. After all, Miles had done this before on his own terms, at least—hand-feeding him.

Miles rolled his eyes slightly but obliged, raising his hand to feed Phoenix the bite of food. Miles shuddered as he felt Phoenix’s teeth scrape against his thumb. 

“Mm, that’s delicious,” Phoenix smiled, his mouth full of food. Miles gently rubbed his thumb against the corner of Phoenix’s mouth. 

“Chew with your mouth closed, please, Feenie,” Miles instructed firmly but softly. Phoenix choked a bit on the bite of food. Miles looked concerned for a moment before Phoenix chuckled sheepishly and Franziska muttered something in German. Miles groaned and replied to her in an annoyed tone.

Phoenix sighed looking back to the string quartet. They continued to warm up with some scales and arpeggios. He sipped his champagne as he watched them play. He always loved going to orchestral concerts. He had a few friends who were involved in the music program back at school, and going to their recitals was always so much fun.  He was soon pulled out of his reverie by another voice joining the conversation between Franziska and Miles. Von Karma appeared, looking marginally more dressed up than how Phoenix usually saw him at dinner. 

Phoenix turned and met the other man’s eyes as if offering to challenge him on his attire that night, feeling braver than he had any right to be. But he was allowed to be brave. He was finally wearing the clothes deemed appropriate by von Karma in his household. Surely that was enough to stand proud?

Von Karma didn’t give much of a reaction before shifting his attention back to his proteges. Phoenix deflated a bit, expecting something more, but maybe he was glad that it hadn’t been more of a reaction. 

The quartet had switched from arpeggios and scales to chorals and other warm-up tunes. One of the musicians laughed at something the other said and the viola player began to play a familiar melody. Phoenix finally placed it as a relatively popular song, but instrumental. He smiled at how much fun the musicians were having as they took turns playing random bits of familiar songs. 

One of the musicians started a new tune and the others joined in to round out the song.

Miles turned to Phoenix. 

“Feenie, dear, would you like to go dance?” Miles asked quietly, gently touching his shoulder as he noticed how much Phoenix was enjoying the music. 

“R-Really? You want to?” Phoenix asked, and Miles extended his hand out to Phoenix.

In his excitement, Phoenix drained the last of the champagne in the flute before handing the empty glass to von Karma. Von Karma looked shocked and confused about how the empty flute ended up in his hand before a waitstaff member quickly swooped in and took the glass from von Karma’s hand.

Miles led him out to the dance floor. Phoenix hesitantly placed his hand on Miles’s shoulder, and Miles placed his hand on Phoenix’s hip. 

“Are you sure about this?” Phoenix chuckled to himself. “We haven’t practiced or anything.”

“Well, you know, Franziska and von Karma are watching,” Miles replied softly. “We’ll just…do something simple. Like this.” Miles began to step back and forth as they began to sway gently. It felt a little stiff and awkward, though.

“Yeah, they’re watching, alright,” Phoenix muttered as he swayed in time with Miles. He turned his attention back to Miles, smiling softly. “I-I have a feeling that’s becoming your excuse for a lot of things. Out of curiosity, if they weren't there watching, what would we be doing right now? Would you have still asked me to dance?”

“Well, I—it…it doesn’t matter,” Miles muttered, looking away, a faint blush rising on his face. 

Miles began to glance back to where Franziska and von Karma were standing. Although Miles was the one leading at the moment, Phoenix forcefully guided Miles, so his back was to them, and he couldn’t glance over his shoulder at them without it being obvious.

“Wright,” Miles grumbled in irritation. “What are you—”  

“Just enjoy yourself. Don’t worry about them, okay?” Phoenix pleaded.

“Sorry, just force of habit—” Miles sighed.  “I can’t help but think about what they’re seeing. I know I shouldn’t care about that. I know. But I can’t help it.” 

“Hmm. Well then, shall we give the old man a show?” Phoenix arched his eyebrow with a smug smirk on his lips as Miles’s attention turned back to Phoenix. 

“What on earth are you talking about?” Miles asked, his face flushing even brighter.

“You remember I was a theater and arts kid before I became a law student, yeah? So I may just know a thing or two about dancing. We had a musical production last year, and I was one of the extras in the back of the ballroom scene, so we had some lessons—just follow my lead,” Phoenix said, shifting his hands so that he could take the lead. Miles moved his hand to rest on Phoenix’s shoulder as Phoenix’s hand came down to Miles’s waist.

Miles fell into step with Phoenix as he began to lead them across the dancefloor. However, Miles panicked as he struggled to keep up.

“Relax, Miles,” Phoenix breathed as they moved. “You’re fighting it. Relax and you’ll be okay.” 

“I’m trying , Wright,” Miles growled. “It’s not that easy. How are you meant to relax and dance?”

“You’re trying too hard,” Phoenix said as he led him into a twirl. “Relax.”

Miles breathed as he willed his body to release the tension he was holding in his shoulders and arms and allowed Phoenix to lead him through the steps. He finally began to trust Phoenix’s lead and let Phoenix take control of where they were going. It became easier to fall into step with Phoenix and flow with his movements. He was actually beginning to enjoy himself. 

As the song came to a close, Phoenix chuckled and spun him around before dipping him. Their faces were close, and Phoenix could see the sweat on Miles’s brow. His lips were parted as he caught his breath, and Phoenix had to stop himself from kissing Miles again. 

Scattered applause broke out, and their attention was pulled from each other, looking up to see some of the first guests had arrived, standing with the von Karmas. 

Miles stood himself up straight and righted his suit before taking Phoenix’s hand and heading over to where the first few guests had gathered. They greeted Miles in German, who in turn responded in German. Phoenix felt his stomach begin to tighten. 

This was going to be the majority of the evening, wasn’t it?

He strained his hearing for anything that sounded remotely familiar as he smiled and waited to be introduced, and eventually, he heard his name. 

“Yes, this is him, Phoenix Wright,” Miles said, switching back to English. “Feenie, love, these are some of von Karma’s fellow prosecutors from the prosecutors’ office here.”

“H-Hi!” Phoenix said, nervously. 

One of them cooed, saying something in German as the others laughed. Phoenix felt the frustration rising in his chest. Stamping it down, he smiled graciously and waited to take a cue from Miles on how to respond. He simply looked a little flushed and also at a loss for words. 

Franziska stepped in and began to chat with one of the men. He replied quickly in German, but Phoenix could tell the man feared her in a certain capacity.

Phoenix chuckled to himself as he watched her take control of the conversation, relief sweeping through him that they had been saved. 

More people began to arrive, and the sound in the hall grew. Phoenix remained glued to Miles’s side. He noticed Oskar and Laurin had joined the party as well. There was another, taller distinguished gentleman with them and Phoenix belatedly wondered if that man was the tailor’s husband that he had mentioned a few times. Phoenix hoped they could go and speak with them at some point that evening. At least he kind of knew them and knew they were someone he could speak English with and not have any judgment. 

He didn’t want to interrupt Miles’s conversations, but it was almost becoming painful. 

As they moved from one group of people to the next, Phoenix quickly reached for another flute of champagne. He tried to distract himself with little games in his head. He would try to guess the profession of everyone there. He also kept an eye out for the von Karmas, tracking their movements through the evening. Then he started to count how many diamonds there were on the jewelry he was seeing. From mens’ cufflinks to womens’ rings…he wondered how much wealth was in this manor at the moment. It…kind of made him feel sick. 

“Feenie, would you like to stop and get some wine?” Miles asked to cue their departure from a certain group of what Phoenix finally gathered were local politicians.

“Yeah, yeah, I think that would be a good idea,” Phoenix nodded as he followed behind Miles. 

They approached the bar, and Miles ordered them two glasses of red wine. Phoenix leaned against Miles, putting his head against Miles’s shoulder and placing his hands around Miles’s waist. Miles turned around with the wine glass and handed one of them to Phoenix. 

“Are you okay?” Miles asked. 

“Yeah, it’s just a lot,” Phoenix replied with a soft groan.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Miles said gently. “Try to stick it out a little longer?”

“Yeah, I’m good, I’m good,” Phoenix assured him. 

“More food will be brought out in a bit, and we can distract ourselves with that,” Miles promised as he led them towards another group of people. The stiffness in this group was almost palpable. These had to be some of the national politicians that Miles had mentioned earlier. Every word seemed rehearsed and stiff. Even if Phoenix couldn’t speak the language, he could feel that. Phoenix wondered at how bizarre it was that he was standing here talking to German National figures. Well—talking wasn’t quite the word for it. 

Without participating in the conversation, Phoenix continued to nervously sip at his glass of wine, emptying it much faster than Miles and his own glass of wine. He was almost starting to feel lightheaded and nauseous, and considered slowing down on the alcohol, but right now it was the only thing he could do with his hands to distract himself. As they moved from that group of people, Miles pulled Phoenix closer to his side.

“Why don’t we go talk to the tailors?” Miles offered.

“Can we?” Phoenix asked excitedly, some of the anxiety in his stomach dissipating.

Miles navigated over to the small corner where the tailors had landed that evening. Phoenix was very impressed with their own suits. Oskar’s was probably the most neutral out of the group, but even then it was a deep plum color with emerald accents. 

Laurin’s own suit jacket was made of an almost iridescent fabric that complimented their dark multi-colored hair in an incredible way. 

Oskar’s husband was in a bright emerald green suit with deep purple slacks. Phoenix noted the two of them looked quite good together. He belatedly realized that his and Miles’s own suits were reflections, very much like the older couple’s outfits were. 

Their time talking with them seemed to go by too fast and soon Miles was shepherding him off to the next group of people. Phoenix’s mood plummeted again. He gladly traded out his empty wine glass for another champagne flute as they made their way through the crowds. 

At least in the next group there were a few guests that attempted to hold a conversation in English for Phoenix’s benefit, but it was always easier for them to slip back into German when English failed them. Phoenix didn’t find fault with that, but it was still frustrating. He could feel his heart pound in his chest and his hands begin to tremble.

Miles continued to use the pet name “Feenie,” using it at least ten times the past three conversations and countless times before that. Any other time, Phoenix would be over the moon about Miles feeling comfortable enough to use a cheesy pet name for him, especially in front of other people. But the fact that he’d been having nightmares about Dahlia again compounded with the fact that there was a panic attack looming just under the surface at being unable to understand what anyone was saying about him... 

Phoenix was feeling nauseous. 

He was already feeling uneasy with his previous anxiety attack after kissing Miles earlier. With barely a chance to recover, he was only beginning to feel worse. HIs stomach churned and his heart was pounding so loud he was surprised Miles couldn’t hear it.

When his anxiety came to a head, Phoenix waited for Miles to turn his back for a moment before making his escape. 

He couldn’t handle the number of people and the overstimulation, so he sought the refuge of silence. His feet carried him back to his and Miles’s room, and as the door shut behind him, he let out a sob he had been fighting to hold in for the past few minutes. 

Once the dam broke, there was no hope of pulling himself together. Phoenix dragged himself over to where his bed was usually rolled out and curled up on the floor sitting with his back to the door and leaning against Miles’s bed as he wept. 

Before he could even hope to catch his breath, he saw Miles before he heard him. Phoenix jumped in surprise with a small hiccup as he tried to stop his shuddering breathing and catch his breath.

“Wright…? Wright! Are you okay?” Miles asked frantically, looking like he wanted to reach out and comfort him, but was unsure about what he should actually do. “Good heavens…Ph-Phoenix?! Wh-What happened?” he called more desperately. 

Phoenix tried to gasp for air so he could tell Miles to not worry about him. He was fine. But he couldn’t even form words around the shuddering sobs shaking his body. 

“ Phoenix ,” Miles said in a tense tone as he kneeled in front of him and reached out toward Phoenix.

Phoenix wasn’t sure what he was doing at first. Miles reached around to Phoenix’s pocket and pulled out the handkerchief he had lent him earlier. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Here you are.” Miles handed him the used handkerchief. He sat and waited and watched as Phoenix rubbed at his nose and eyes once again. “I’m going to have to find you at least another dozen to keep with you if you’re always going to be so…so leaky ,” Miles gently teased him. 

“H-Hey—” Phoenix hiccuped in response with a watery chuckle before letting out another shuddering breath. 

“I-I’m joking,” Miles said softly. “I’m sorry, I-I was kidding—”

“I-I-I know, Miles,” Phoenix chuckled slightly. 

“O-Okay, just…take a minute,” Miles said with a nod. 

Phoenix tried focusing on his breathing to calm himself down. He knew that usually worked when he got like this. He was trying to fight down the pure shame and embarrassment he felt knowing that Miles was sitting there watching him completely lose it.

“There you go,” Miles said softly as Phoenix’s breathing began to slow down. 

“I-I’m okay,” Phoenix shuddered, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m okay, I promise.”

“It certainly doesn’t look that way,” Miles remarked. Phoenix was too embarrassed to meet Miles’s gaze.  

“D-Do you…do you want to tell me what happened?” Miles asked softly.

Phoenix shook his head as he continued to try and regain composure. Even Phoenix was unsure what had actually set him off.

“Okay,” Miles said, as he got comfortable on the floor, folding his legs beneath him.

“W-Wait, Miles, what are you doing? Y-Your suit. It’s going to be wrinkled,” Phoenix finally managed to mutter. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Miles said, waving off his concern. 

“O-Of course it matters,” Phoenix argued, finding his voice again. “Y-You still need to… “

“I’m not returning to the party if you aren’t feeling up to it,” Miles said, interrupting Phoenix.

“B-But, I-I mean, you probably should…von Karma will think—”

“At the moment, I find that I don’t actually care what von Karma thinks…I don’t care what Franziska or the rest of them think, either,” Miles explained. 

Hearing Miles say that made Phoenix’s head spin. After all the conversations they’d had about how Miles still valued von Karma’s opinion and his opinion on Phoenix for whatever reason…what had changed in the past few moments? 

Just because Phoenix revealed he’s a big crybaby, suddenly Miles didn’t care what they thought? If anything, Phoenix thought he might be mad or frustrated with him, not patient and defensive of him. 

He felt light-headed.

“...M-Miles…?” Phoenix hiccuped softly. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” Miles said with a small shrug. “I just…w-want to make sure you’re okay, I suppose. You…you really scared me, disappearing like that…and then finding you like this…I-I…don’t know, I just…” Miles clutched at his chest as if he were trying to calm his heart rate. 

Phoenix gave him a watery smile. 

“I’m sorry to have scared you like that. But I appreciate it…your concern, that is,” Phoenix said quietly. “But you really don’t have to worry about me.”

“I think that’s for me to decide,” Miles rebuked stubbornly. “Anyway, you don’t have to talk about it right now, but would it help if we sat here for a while?” Miles asked. “Or would you prefer to be left alone? I can return and let everyone know that you aren't feeling well, if anyone asks after you,” Miles offered nervously. “You can remain up here and rest where it’s quiet if you’d like.”

Phoenix stayed silent for a moment, thinking over Miles’s proposition. He didn’t feel like returning to the party just yet, that was for sure. But he didn’t necessarily want to be alone either. Phoenix hated that Miles was seeing him like this and that he was causing Miles to worry about him… 

But he had already felt so alone, stranded among the throng of people at the party. It was so overwhelming, and the thought of being alone again made him breathe in shudders. 

“Wright,” Miles reached out and wrapped his fingers around his wrist to try and prevent him from spiraling again.

“P-Please…please just stay for a moment?” Phoenix requested in a small voice. 

“Of course,” Miles agreed.

“I-I’m really sorry, Miles. I didn’t mean to fall apart like this,” Phoenix said.

“No one means to fall apart,” Miles replied in a gentle, understanding tone that made Phoenix melt.

“I-It’s just between the tailored suits and all the preparation…I know it’s an important party for you a-and for von Karma,” Phoenix muttered.

“As I said earlier, I—I suppose it is partially my fault. I should have given you more warning,” Miles said. “It is a lot to ask of someone…to attend a social gathering in black-tie attire like this—a-all speaking a language you don’t understand. Is that partially the reason?” 

“A—A bit,” Phoenix admitted. “It’s hard when everyone else around you is having a conversation and all you can do is stand there, not knowing what’s being said.”

“I know. I haven’t forgotten what my first few years here in Germany were like. I had no preparation either,” Miles said with an understanding nod. 

“Right…” Phoenix sighed softly. “How long did it take you to be proficient?”

“Quite a while,” Miles said. “I’m starting to feel rusty again after returning to America, though.”

“I think your German sounds incredible,” Phoenix complimented. “Though, you could probably say nonsense and I’d have no idea.”

“Phoenix…” Miles said with an exasperated sigh. 

They were quiet for a beat, their gazes holding steady. Phoenix wanted to reach out and take a hold of Miles’s hand again, but he felt like…he couldn’t . There was still something that Phoenix was hung up on.

“Miles?” Phoenix asked.

“What is it? What can I do for you?” Miles asked, anxiously.

“Erm…I…I think maybe…if you could—ah, this is so stupid—” Phoenix muttered.

“What is it?” Miles repeated.  

 “I-I think you calling me ‘Feenie’ is also…upsetting me, so maybe if you can take a break from that for now…? Maybe you can use something else?” Phoenix said, his voice going a touch higher. 

“It’s…upsetting you? Why on earth did you tell me to use it at the beginning of the week, then?” Miles asked, sounding frustrated. He furrowed his brows and looked at Phoenix with a cross look on his face, his lips pursing slightly.

“I dunno. I didn’t think it would set me on edge as much, but every time you do it just reminds me of…y’know, her, and I’m still…I dunno. I guess I’m still kinda…dealing with that,” Phoenix uttered.

“Right. This was…your…ex who tried to frame you at your trial…?” Miles asked, uncertainly.

“Yes,” Phoenix confirmed. “It’s still so…so weird. I mean, it even feels wrong to call her my ex. It was just…one day she was sweet as ever and we were dating—and the next…she had killed someone, called me useless, and was sent to prison. I didn’t get to talk to her or say goodbye or anything. In my mind, it still feels like some nightmare and she’ll come back, sweet as can be, and we can go back to the way things were…”

“Oh,” Miles sighed softly, unsure what else to say.

“There was nothing …no closure—” Phoenix continued in an agitated manner. “I guess I didn’t think it messed with me too bad, but…well, I suppose it did. After all, she did try to kill me before she went the route of framing me, so maybe it’s—” 

“Sh-She what? ” Miles gasped his heart hammering in his chest. 

“O-Oh, right. I didn’t tell you that part, huh?” Phoenix said with a weak chuckle.

Miles felt a chill go down his spine. For whatever reason, that new tidbit of information instilled panic into Miles’s chest. He dealt with murderers and criminal schemes all day; why had something like that shocked him? 

Was it the idea that Phoenix himself could have been a victim? That his life could have been cut tragically short? Miles would have never had the chance to reconnect with him—he wouldn’t be sitting here in one of the dark rooms of the von Karma estate talking to him, and something about that left a sour pit in Miles’s stomach. 

Phoenix’s letters would have never been answered and then would Miles have felt a sense of guilt and dread that would follow him to his grave? More so than the guilt that already filled him to his core? About not only one death, but two—

No. 

It was no time to think about his father.

“W-Why on earth would she do that?” Miles asked. 

“Erm—well, it was kinda connected to another case? The August previous to the case in April…there was an incident at the courthouse. I’m not sure if you were around at the time. A defense attorney was poisoned in the cafeteria.” 

“Oh,” Miles nodded. “I do remember that. They…they never found the culprit, did they?”

“Eventually, they did, yes. It was her .”

“My God…” Miles breathed. He felt as if his head was spinning. 

“I just so happened to be at the courthouse on the day of the poisoning. I was doing research in the library. I had already taken an interest in law, so I was there doing research for one of my electives. That’s when I met her. She had fled from the scene in the cafeteria and hid the evidence of the poisoning…by giving it to me in the form of a gift. Someone she knew wouldn’t be searched in connection to it.” 

“Y-You’re joking,” Miles breathed. “A-And you just…took it without question? Wright, what kind of idiot are you?” 

“I know, I know!” Phoenix confessed. “I-I thought it was an honest-to-goodness gift! It was a beautiful pendant with a container and…well. After that, we started a relationship…I thought it was simply destiny that we met in the library that day, but…she only wanted a relationship with me so she could get the evidence back and destroy it.” 

“So, you ended up giving it back to her?” Miles asked, quietly.

“Ah. No, that’s the thing. No. I didn’t. I mean, I had no idea it was evidence!” Phoenix explained desperately, putting his hands up as if to physically defend himself. “She didn’t come out and say that the gift was evidence she needed back. I just…thought she was embarrassed by it because I wanted to show it to everyone! So, I thought she was joking when she asked for it back.” He shrugged, dropping his arm and folding his hands in his lap.

 Miles buried his face in his hands. “Oh, my god, Wright.”

“The poison itself was in a glass container that I…I cherished, since it reminded me of the day I met her. When I wouldn’t give it up, she decided the best way to get rid of it— and get rid of me —would be to kill me,” Phoenix said in a steady voice. “Things kind of went sideways for her when the other…the other thing happened,” he said, losing steam again and his voice going quiet. “The student who died, he…he died trying to warn me about her and I…repaid his kindness by telling him he was a liar and shoving him—” Phoenix growled, anger flaring in his voice. “I-I might as well have killed him. If only I had just listened—!” Phoenix began to gasp in shuddering breaths as he began to spiral again.

“Phoenix,” Miles breathed. “Don’t do that to yourself. Just breathe and collect yourself. It’s not your fault.”

He gave Phoenix a moment to catch his breath.

“I-I know,” Phoenix gave a weak chuckle. “I am a bit of a manchild after all, aren’t I?”

“No. No, you’re not,” Miles said. “You’re just...you’re just …you .”

“I’m just…me…?” Phoenix repeated back. 

“Y-You’re kind, you’re optimistic, you’re naïve , b-but you…you always want to see the best in people, despite them showing you the worst of themselves…” Miles said, avoiding Phoenix’s gaze as he spoke. 

“Yeah, but I’m kind of thinking that’s a bad thing after all…”

“M-Maybe it is,” Miles muttered. “You…you can’t protect yourself that way. You have no sense of self-preservation, really .” 

There seemed to be an unspoken weight to those words. Phoenix wasn’t sure why, but it didn’t feel as if Miles was simply talking about Phoenix’s predicament with Dahlia. Did he think that Phoenix needed to protect himself from Miles, too?

“M-Miles,” Phoenix said. He finally reached out and tentatively threaded his fingers through Miles’s fingers. Miles hesitantly looked back up at Phoenix.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…say that,” Miles sighed. 

“N-No, you’re probably right,” Phoenix chuckled weakly. 

“S-So, when did you learn about this?” Miles asked, rubbing at his nose with his knuckle. “The plot to…to kill you? Was it during your trial?” 

“Yeah,” Phoenix said with a shrug. “The Chief had actually been onto her before my case. Mia had faced Dollie during her first trial and my Dollie…well, she only got away before because the defendant…he…he killed himself. Right there. In court. It sounds like it did quite a number on the Chief…she said she didn’t return to court for a while after that.” 

Miles’s heart stopped. That nightmare of a case…no…it couldn’t be…  

“N-No,” Miles breathed. “You can’t be…” 

“I know.” Phoenix nodded, not noticing the tension in Miles’s shoulders. 

“Phoenix…what…what was the name of this woman you were dating, again?” Miles asked. Silently he prayed to himself that it wasn’t the case…that Phoenix surely hadn't been involved with that woman.  

“Oh, uh, Dollie—Dahlia Hawthorne?” Phoenix replied with a frown. “Why?”

“My God…” Miles gasped. 

“Wh-what? What is it? Do you… know her?” Phoenix asked. 

Miles stared at Phoenix for a moment before his brain was able to formulate a response. 

“I—I-I do. I did.” Miles stared at Phoenix with wide eyes. “She’s…she’s vile. I prosecuted that case—the case with the escaped convict who killed himself. Terry…Terry Fawles?”

“Th-That sounds right, yes,” Phoenix replied, his eyes blowing wide in shock. “No…you were the prosecutor that the Chief was against back then?! ”

“I-It was actually the first case I had prosecuted in America…” Miles breathed. “His death resulted in no verdict. That first case I had prosecuted…and it was the only case in my career that wasn’t a victory for me. The one case which caused me so much grief from von Karma,” Miles rambled. He finally calmed himself a bit and continued. “Th-That case…well, it was kind of the reason I wanted to bring you with me. Last Christmas, when I came back, all they could do was talk about that failure,” Miles explained softly.

“M-Miles,” Phoenix muttered. “You…you do realize…a-a man died, don’t you? It wasn’t just about winning or losing the case. He died because of her. Because of Dahlia.”

“Y-Yes, of course,” Miles replied with a distant look in his eyes. Of course, he was aware a man had died, he thought to himself. But in his mind…he placed more emphasis on the verdict itself so he didn’t have to confront the idea that he had watched the man kill himself. That he simply sat and watched as one moment the man was testifying on the stand and the next he lay collapsed on the ground as the life drained from him. The defense attorney— Miss Fey… she—she had been hysterical. Miles had simply disassociated while the aftermath was dealt with. He had avoided confronting that memory because it had been horrific.  

That, compounded with the failure to get the conviction…von Karma wanted to remind him of it at every turn. That reminder was dangerous to Miles. He didn’t want to think about watching the man cough up blood and breathe his last before collapsing. 

Was this why he had gone to such lengths to avoid talking with the von Karmas this Christmas? The reason he spent hundreds— thousands— on bringing Phoenix with him? And now it wasn’t von Karma who had unearthed that trauma again. It was Phoenix. The man he brought as a distraction…

Miles himself then began to hyperventilate. 

“Oh, God. I’m sorry, Miles, I didn’t mean to bring up such a terrible thing that you also went through—” 

Miles sat back and buried his face in his hands, trying to will his breathing back to normal. 

“I’m sorry, Miles, I’m sorry,” Phoenix said urgently, his voice cracking a bit. “I didn’t mean to—” Phoenix reached out to gently hold Miles, but Miles snapped away from his grip, getting up off the floor and pacing back and forth a bit. “Miles, I had no idea that you were there—” 

“Shut up,” Miles finally hissed. “Shut up, Wright!” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry —!” Phoenix repeated, tears welling up in his eyes again. 

“She’s…she’s a monster,” Miles muttered as he continued to pace back and forth. “I saw how she manipulated that man until he killed himself for her. You…you are lucky to have survived if she had intended to kill you.”

“I almost didn’t,” Phoenix confessed. “I almost ended up the way Terry Fawles did…I…I tried to eat the evidence of the poisoning in the courthouse,” Phoenix explained, looking away in shame. “I was so blinded by her…for the briefest of moments, I…I-I guess I was ready to defend her even if that meant going to prison for her…or dying .”

“ What ?!” Miles stared at him, stopping dead in his tracks. “What was this evidence you tried to eat? Don’t tell me it was the poison container she had given you?”

“I, erm, yeah. I had to break the glass into pieces to get it all down,” Phoenix replied weakly.

“Oh, my god.” Miles put his head in his hands. “ Glass?! Phoenix! You said this bottle…did indeed have poison in it at one point?” 

“Well, yes, but it had been empty for almost eight months!” he said, trying to defend himself. “So it didn’t really do anything to me. But…I did have to have surgery to remove the glass shards before they tore up my intestines.” 

“No. No, please, please stop,” Miles rubbed his temples. “Phoenix, I can’t hear any more of this.”

Phoenix fell silent as he continued to watch Miles shift his weight between his feet. 

“I’m sorry…” Phoenix said in barely more than a whisper. “I’m sorry—I’m an idiot. You can leave me up here and tell everyone I wasn’t feeling well. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Phoenix,” Miles said sternly. “You…you don’t need to apologize. I… I’m sorry for the way I reacted,” he replied, folding his arms across his chest and looking away. 

“No…no, it’s okay,” Phoenix said, forgiving him quickly. “I know, it’s a lot.” 

“You said she’s the one who called you that…F-Feenie, right?” Miles asked softly.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I promise I won’t call you that anymore,” Miles promised with a nod.      

“Th-Thanks. Sorry, I’m being such a baby about this,” Phoenix said, giving him a sad smile. “I should probably just try to…I dunno, just forget about it all, right?’

“Th-That’s not something you can easily just…forget,” Miles replied. “You’re reacting like any normal person who experienced a traumatic event like that.” 

“I know, but I mean I…I survived, right? I guess…looking back, it wasn’t really that traumatic, y’know? It just…sucks. So, I guess I still just…feel silly about it,” Phoenix admitted. 

“Phoenix, you have every right to be traumatized by something like that,” Miles assured him as he sat down with Phoenix once again. “You survived, but it left scars. Both physical and mental. It takes time to heal from something like that.” 

“I—I guess so. Thanks, Miles, I appreciate it.” Phoenix said with a hiccuping sigh.

“You know, now I want to burn that pink monstrosity even more now that I know the story behind it,” Miles remarked. 

“C’mon, Miles,” Phoenix chuckled. “It’s still a perfectly usable sweater.” 

“Phoenix. I’ve bought you at least three or four other articles of clothing that can replace it. You can let it go.” 

“Fine…I’ll…I’ll think about getting rid of it,” Phoenix said in a defeated tone. 

“Good,” Miles nodded. They sat in silence for a little while longer while Phoenix worked to even out his breathing. 

“I…I should be good to come back down in a few, if you want to go ahead back down there,” Phoenix said as he pulled his hand away from Miles’s hand and dabbed at his nose with the handkerchief again. 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll wait here with you. I prefer to not spend much time down there by myself if I don’t have to…” Miles said, glancing away. “It’s…easier if I have you.” 

“Are you sure? I’m…not really doing anything, and you kind of seemed to be enjoying yourself talking to some of them,” Phoenix said.

“Well, I’m glad it appeared that way because I certainly was not. This event is the one I dread the most whenever I think about Christmases with the von Karmas. It’s always so exhausting,” Miles complained, gently rubbing at his forehead. “So, I thank you for giving me the excuse to take a break.” 

“Okay then, how about we go down for a little longer and then maybe…I can fake feeling sick and you can excuse us so you can come and take care of me like the good boyfriend you are?” Phoenix suggested with a small smile.

“Yes…I am…agreeable to that.” Miles chuckled. “You’re sure that you’re up for it? To go down to the party at all?” 

“Yes, but erm—maybe I should go wash my face or something, so it doesn’t look like I was just crying my eyes out,” Phoenix suggested with a quiet huff. 

“Stay here. I’ll go get you a washcloth,” Miles said softly, pulling himself to his feet again and disappearing from Phoenix’s eyesight. 

Phoenix bowed his head as he focused on his breathing again and tried to drown out all the other intrusive thoughts. 

In, 2, 3, 4, 5. 

Hold 2, 3, 4, 5. 

Out, 2, 3, 4, 5.

He repeated this a few times until he heard Miles return and Phoenix glanced up to take the damp washcloth from the other man’s hand. He dabbed it against his face, where he felt the most flushed before pressing it against his eyes for a few moments. 

“Ah, that feels much better,” Phoenix muttered almost to himself. “Thanks, Miles.” Phoenix handed the cloth back to Miles, who simply left it on the bed before offering a hand to help Phoenix up. 

“Is there anything else I can do to make it less overwhelming when we go back down?” Miles asked as they left the room, and he quietly shut the door behind them. 

“Erm, I know it’s kind of hard to…with everyone else being, well…but if we could have fewer German conversations? Or at least can you tell me what’s being said?” Phoenix asked. “It kind of makes me panic when I can’t understand everyone. My brain automatically tells me that everyone’s talking about me, even though I know that’s not the case, and it kind of puts me in fight or flight mode…as you witnessed, my brain just chose flight.” 

“Okay, I can try to do that,” Miles said. 

“Yeah, no worries. I know it’s hard when everyone else is used to…well, yeah,” Phoenix sighed, attaching himself to Miles’s side.   

They continued down the hall arm in arm until they reached the bustle of the grand hall, where the party was still well underway. 

In the middle of the dancefloor, Franziska was showing off some fancy whip tricks with a full whip in hand instead of her little riding crop.

“Sh—She’s proficient with a full whip?” Phoenix croaked.

“Unfortunately,” Miles sighed. “She’s been working on it for several years now, to graduate from riding crop to bullwhip in court.”

“ What? Sh-She brings it to court? I-Is that allowed?” Phoenix squeaked as he watched her precisely knock over an empty glass that was tucked between two other full glasses. The full glasses weren’t touched, and the one knocked over didn’t shatter as it rolled away. 

The crowd applauded and Phoenix felt a shiver of fear go up his spine. Miles didn’t give a response as the two of them crept around the edges of the crowd towards the tables with refreshments on them. Miles picked up a few hors d'oeuvres as Phoenix collected a couple glasses of champagne for the two of them. 

Miles came over and motioned for Phoenix to open his mouth, and Miles fed him a bite of the biscuit he had picked up. 

Phoenix smiled softly to himself, seeing the other man blush at his own actions. He kind of liked that Miles seemed to enjoy the hand-feeding gesture. There was something so intimate about the actions, it made Phoenix’s stomach twist into knots. 

“Here you are,” Phoenix said after swallowing the bite, handing the flute of champagne to Miles. Miles took it and took a long sip from it. 

The crowd began to disperse—it seemed as if Franziska’s demonstration had finished up. 

They attempted socializing once again. Miles would pause in between conversations to translate things into English for him. Phoenix appreciated it, but could tell the other party-goers were finding it irritating and losing their patience. 

Eventually, Miles pulled him away and into another quiet alcove of the banquet hall. 

“This is just stupid,” Miles hissed. “I’m done trying to do this anymore. Are you about ready to call it a night and fake being sick?” Miles asked, beginning to make a show of checking on Phoenix, which included, placing the back of his cool hand against Phoenix’s forehead. “You do actually feel quite warm.”

“I’m feeling a bit better,” Phoenix tried to protest so Miles didn’t feel bad. “But yeah, I’m ready to call it a night.” 

Miles gently began to card through Phoenix’s hair soothingly, and Phoenix wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor. 

Franziska showed up a moment later, and Phoenix wasn’t sure if she had been summoned or if she had stopped by of her own volition. His mind was suddenly so clouded, he hadn’t noticed. 

Miles then reached out and began to rub Phoenix’s lower back. The gentle touch felt so good to Phoenix, that he tried to hold in the moan that threatened to escape. That would certainly be quite embarrassing. 

“Is everything all right?” she asked. Her bullwhip was still in hand and the idea of facing that in court made Phoenix feel nauseous and faint. 

Well, at least it wasn’t hard to fake being ill in front of her. 

“He’s not feeling well. I think he’s just overwhelmed,” Miles replied. 

“Should we call a doctor?” Franziska asked, her brow creasing.

“No, no, I don’t think he’s that bad off, but I may take him up to our room and see if he starts to feel better,” Miles explained. “Will you be able to let your father know if he’s looking for us?”

“Of course,” Franziska said with a nod. “It’s a shame you only got to wear your suits for such a short amount of time.” 

“Yes, well…I’m much more concerned about his well-being,” Miles remarked as he softly reached up to caress Phoenix’s face. Phoenix couldn’t help but nuzzle against his hand that was pressed against his flushed cheek. 

“Very well, I suppose there’s always next year, hm?” Franziska sighed. “I’ll let Papa know if he’s looking for you. Take care of him. He does not look well,” she continued, watching Phoenix as he sagged into Miles’s touch.

“I will,” Miles said. “Enjoy yourself tonight, and congrats on mastering your whip. It looked particularly fearsome. Phoenix nearly fainted at the thought of seeing you in court while you’re armed with it.”

“Pathetic man, Phoenix Wright,” Franziska said with a particularly devilish smirk on her face. “Get some good rest.”

“Thanks, Franziska von Karma,” Phoenix said quietly, reaching out to pat her on the head.  

“Don’t make me whip you all the way back to your room,” Franziska barked as she tightened the whip between her hands in a threatening movement. 

“Mrmn, Miles, please save me,” Phoenix whined as he slid behind Miles. 

“Leave the man alone, Franziska. He’s not feeling well. We’ll see you in the morning,” Miles said, bidding her goodbye as he led Phoenix away from the throng of people. Phoenix began to straighten his posture  as they left the grand hall. 

“How was that? Do you think I looked sick?” Phoenix asked. 

“Very convincing, dear,” Miles said dryly. Phoenix’s stomach flipped and the endearment, even though it was for no one's benefit but his own. It felt so much better than Feenie, even if Miles was using it in a sarcastic, dry tone.

“I do think I actually felt sick, thinking about seeing her in court with a whip,” Phoenix admitted.

“I know, most attorneys do,” Miles snorted to himself and stopped them as they passed by the kitchen. Miles ducked inside, and Phoenix looked after him. 

“Miles? What are you…?” Phoenix called, following him into the kitchen. Phoenix had never been inside the kitchen before, and it looked impressive even though it was dark. 

Miles hummed as he looked through the prepped food and drink waiting to be taken out to replenish the refreshments already out there. 

“I thought we could continue to enjoy the refreshments a bit, even if we’re leaving the party a little early,” Miles said, reaching for a wine bottle and an opener that was sitting out with the other bottles. With an experienced hand, he uncorked the bottle. Phoenix watched in confusion as Miles tucked the cork into the pocket of his trousers. 

“No evidence left behind,” Miles explained simply before taking a drink from the bottle itself and then offering the bottle to Phoenix. 

Phoenix looked down at it. Were they just…going to drink out of the bottle? They weren’t going to grab glasses to go along with it? Phoenix tried to push away the thought of “indirect kisses” as he took the bottle from Miles and brought it to his lips and took a sip.  

“Yeah, okay,” Phoenix croaked, handing the bottle back to Miles. At this point, he would have said anything was good. He wasn’t a wine connoisseur, and he was tipsy enough that it all tasted the same. “No complaints here.” Phoenix sagged his weight against Miles’s side, hooking his arm around the crook of Miles’s elbow again.

They left the kitchen and turned down the hallway to return to their room. Miles shut the door behind them before setting the bottle to the side.

“Honestly, I’m quite relieved we were able to escape early,” Miles remarked as he shed the coat he was wearing. 

Phoenix took a seat on the bench at the end of Miles’s bed. He thought back to Franziska’s comment. He wasn’t sure how much Miles had paid for their suits, but he knew they weren’t cheap. And they had only worn the suits for less than three hours—if that. 

Suddenly, Phoenix felt the urge to find Oskar again and apologize to him.

He tamped down the shameful feeling as he began to try to undo the brooch at his throat, but his fingers couldn’t figure out how the latch worked. 

“Hold on, let me help.” Miles came forward and began to search between the folds of the fabric for the hook to unlatch it. He, too, was having a difficult time after having a bit to drink and he took an extra step further—between Phoenix’s legs—to try and get a better grip on the brooch. 

His fingers pressed a little hard against Phoenix’s throat and the fact that Miles was mere inches away from his face…Phoenix swallowed hard as he felt a rush shoot down into the pit of his stomach and his groin. He closed his eyes and willed his body to return to normal as Miles finally was able to free the brooch from holding the ascot together. When Phoenix didn’t move right away, Miles began to untie the rest of it and placed it in a neat pile next to Phoenix on the foot of the bed. 

Phoenix was much too exhausted to deal with his body reacting this way to Miles. This was not happening, he told himself. He’d be the first to admit that Miles was a handsome man— no, Phoenix stopped himself. He was just so tired.

“Do you require assistance with anything else?” Miles asked quietly, quirking an eyebrow towards Phoenix. 

If Phoenix didn’t know any better, he would have thought that was a come-on from Miles, who must have accurately guessed what he had just caused. 

“N-No, I should be good,” Phoenix squeaked. “Th-Thanks.” He hesitantly removed his own jacket and waistcoat to nervously drape over his lap. 

Well, if that had truly been the case, Phoenix blew it. But that was for the best, he told himself. He had already laid himself bare enough for Miles tonight. If he had seriously been propositioning him…

The bottle of wine was suddenly pushed into his peripheral vision. Phoenix nervously laughed, taking the wine bottle from Miles.

“So, what now?” Phoenix asked after taking a drink from the bottle, watching Miles undo his waistcoat. His pants continued to tighten uncomfortably, and Phoenix cursed under his breath. 

“I…I don’t know,” Miles shrugged, turning back and reaching for the bottle in Phoenix’s hand. Phoenix relinquished the bottle and watched as Miles wrapped his fingers around the neck before bringing it to his lips and taking a long sip. 

“Uh, would you mind if I took a shower? I think it would help calm my nerves after…everything,” Phoenix asked. 

He wasn’t sure if it would help his nerves, but it would help the situation currently unfolding in his trousers. This was so stupid, he thought to himself. He was mentally so exhausted—he despised the fact that his body was doing this to him now. This was not the time.  

“Yeah, feel free,” Miles agreed. “There are some bath salts in the cabinet if you’d prefer to soak for a bit. I always find that quite calming after a particularly difficult day.” 

“I—thanks,” Phoenix murmured as he slid off the bench and went to his suitcase to find some comfortable clothes to change into.   

x

Phoenix returned shortly, freshly showered and changed out of his finer clothes into some loungewear. 

“Better?” Miles asked from where he was sitting on the bed with his legs folded and idly looking through a book. 

“O-Oh, yeah, much better!” Phoenix said nervously, wondering if Miles had any inkling about the real reason for the sudden need of a cold shower. At this point though…he was too exhausted to even care. He’d deal with those thoughts later. 

He put his used clothes away and went to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Would it be okay if we just…go to bed?” Phoenix asked. He was utterly drained and could only think about unfolding his futon and curling up. 

“Yes…” Miles sighed. “I suppose.” 

“Something…bothering you?” Phoenix asked, wondering if the disappointment he heard in his voice was directed at him or at something else…

“Not really…it’s just—we didn’t get to dance anymore, and I kind of enjoyed it…” Miles explained softly. 

“R-Really?” Phoenix asked with a frown. That didn’t seem like something that would bother Miles. He thought Miles would be just as eager for rest as Phoenix. 

“Yes…but it’s not as if we can go down and join the party again. Not that I’d want to go back down there at all, it’s just…” Miles said with a shrug. “Perhaps I could convince you…one more dance before we sleep?” Miles asked. “Here in our room,” he clarified.

“There’s not enough room here,” Phoenix chuckled weakly. “And not to mention, there’s no music…” Phoenix said with a shrug. 

“It’s okay, there doesn’t need to be,” Miles said as he extended his hand. 

“Miles, what are you doing?” Phoenix grumbled, fixing him with a tired look. The other man was clearly feeling courage, or… something due to the alcohol in his system. It wasn’t a bad look on him. His quiet confidence was…bewitching, to say the least. 

“I’m asking you to dance, even when von Karma and Franziska aren’t here to watch. You asked me earlier if I still would have asked you to dance. This is my answer,” Miles said, beckoning Phoenix forward.  

Phoenix sighed. He really hadn’t completely recovered from his anxiety attack earlier—he still felt shaky and irritated and exhausted. But he knew he couldn’t turn down this request. Not when it was Miles asking him to do this with no audience…no pretense…solely for their own benefit.

Finally, Phoenix lifted his hand to take Miles’s hand within his own. Miles gently tugged Phoenix to stand before taking position again, his hand at Phoenix’s waist and the other clasping Phoenix’s hand within his own. Phoenix snaked his arm around Miles’s arm and came around his back to rest on his shoulder, bringing their faces closer than they had been when they danced before. 

Miles said nothing as he began to sway back and forth and Phoenix followed his lead. It was a little overwhelming—the closeness, the silence except for their breathing—and eventually Phoenix put his head down on Miles’s shoulder, pressing his forehead close to Miles’s neck. 

“Are you okay?” Miles asked, his swaying beginning to stutter as his hand clasped Phoenix’s a little tighter. 

“Yeah,” Phoenix muttered. “It’s just…this is…really nice,” he sighed. He felt a warm feeling in his chest as he closed his eyes to savor the moment. 

Part of him wanted to continue this outside of the von Karmas—he wanted this to continue when they were back home. Phoenix couldn’t help but feel like he had truly fallen in love with Miles over the short span of their reunion and it was stupid—it was so stupid, they barely knew each other even if they had known each other since childhood, but…

Phoenix squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. That was a bad idea, his brain told him. 

First of all, Miles would never even agree to that. 

Was Miles even truly attracted to men? Phoenix tried to shake the stupid self-doubt in his mind. Miles had agreed to the dating ruse. He had no issue agreeing to have a fake relationship with Phoenix, so there must be some portion of him that was comfortable enough with his sexuality to continue being like this even outside of von Karma’s gaze. 

Outside of that, Miles had kissed him back earlier…he held his hand and wanted to dance with him when no one was watching…

Could Miles potentially feel the same way?

Phoenix pulled himself away and looked into Miles’s eyes. He wanted to say something, but there was a timidness behind Miles’s expression despite all his confidence earlier. 

No , Phoenix tamped down the urge. Not here. Not yet. He couldn’t do that to Miles right now. He couldn’t do that to himself just yet. Phoenix knew that his heart hadn’t quite healed since Dahlia and it would be unfair to both of them to do this right now…  

“Sorry, I think I need to take a break,” Phoenix muttered as he pulled away from Miles. 

“Right, of course,” Miles replied stiffly. 

“I-It’s not anything that you did, I promise,” Phoenix assured him. “I’m just… still not feeling well after tonight and it’s… yeah. I’m sorry, Miles.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Miles replied brusquely. “I should apologize for insisting we dance when you don’t feel well. I-Is there anything I can do to help with…everything?” 

“I…I dunno,” Phoenix shook his head, suddenly feeling guilty for everything. But he was exhausted and hurt and he wanted to curl into a ball on his futon and try to recover from his brain throwing him into the chaos of a breakdown. 

“If you aren’t feeling well, do you want to trade places for tonight? You can sleep in my bed and I’ll take the futon,” Miles offered. 

“I’m not letting you sleep on the futon in your own house,” Phoenix protested. “I’ll…I’ll be fine on the futon.” 

“Ph-Phoenix?”

“Yes?” 

“Would you…w-would you like to share my bed? Just for tonight?” Miles proposed. “That way, we can both get some good rest before tomorrow and the Christmas market…” 

“A-Are you sure that’s okay?” Phoenix asked. 

“I don’t mind. It is big enough to share,” Miles replied. 

“Only if you want to,” Phoenix said sheepishly. 

“I’m offering, aren’t I?” Miles retorted, curtly.

“I suppose, but I don’t want you to feel like you must,” Phoenix continued. 

“I don’t. I promise,” Miles assured him. “Here—” He turned around, went to the other side of the bed, and stood there. “I—I’ll take this side,” Miles said, turning the bedding down.  

“O-Okay,” Phoenix muttered with a small smile as he stepped up to the bed. Miles stepped back and turned off the overhead light before returning to the bed and sliding under the covers with Phoenix. 

There was an uncomfortable silence as they both laid there, trying not to make any sudden movements. 

“Would you mind if we…” Phoenix started but his voice died off. 

“What do you need?” Miles asked. 

“Nothing, it’s…this is enough. This is fine,” he said, almost as if to reassure himself. 

Miles reached out and found Phoenix’s hand on top of the bedsheets. 

“Would this help?” Miles asked. 

Phoenix bit his lip as he could feel it quiver. Instead of chancing to open his mouth and allowing more tears to fall, he simply nodded. 

“Okay,” Miles sighed. 

After another few quiet moments, Phoenix finally found his voice.

“I’m sorry for everything…” Phoenix breathed, his voice cracking. 

Miles shifted in bed, turning towards Phoenix as Phoenix quickly wiped away the extra tears. 

“No, I’m sorry, Phoenix,” Miles curled towards him but avoided his gaze. “All of this could have been avoided if I had just…been more attentive. Been a better boyfriend, as it were.”

Phoenix let out a watery chuckle. 

“But we’re not actually dating,” he said with a sniffle. “No one can fault you for not being an attentive boyfriend,” Phoenix said in a hoarse voice. 

“We don’t have to be dating for me to have been a better friend and realize when something had been bothering you,” Miles said, his hand clasping Phoenix’s even tighter.

“It’s okay. I mean…we haven’t seen each other in a decade. There’s no way we could both be in tune with whatever the other one is thinking at this point, right?” Phoenix tried to console Miles. 

“I know…I know,” Miles sighed. “I just…I feel I could have done better.” 

“Miles…?” Phoenix asked softly. 

Miles hummed in response, but still avoided Phoenix’s gaze. 

“How about if I don’t blame myself, you don’t blame yourself either?” Phoenix suggested. 

“I…I suppose,” Miles agreed. 

Phoenix smiled softly to himself as he closed his eyes, his exhaustion dragging him towards sleep. 

Just before he felt himself completely drop into sleep, the bed shifted slightly and he felt a gentle kiss pressed to his temple. 

Chapter Text

Miles Edgeworth was nine years old again.

He was standing in an elevator, his father's body already slumped and bleeding in the corner. In the other corner, there was the great hulking figure of Terry Fawles, blood dripping from his lips.

Phoenix Wright stood before him, but he wasn’t Miles’s age. He was older, his correct age, but wearing the horrendous pink sweater…and extending his hand toward Miles. 

Miles shook his head, backing away. He knew he didn’t deserve the hand Phoenix was offering him. In his dream, Miles knew he was the one who had shot and killed his father. He was the reason his father was dead, and yet…

“Miles, please, it’s okay. I can help you,” Phoenix said. “Take my hand. I can get us out of here.”

“B-But, my father…” Miles squeaked. “I-I—”

“It’s okay,” Phoenix said. “I can protect you. I can help you. I’m a defense lawyer, okay? I can get you cleared for this.”

“N-No…you shouldn’t. I killed him. It’s my fault that he’s dead,” Miles protested. “I-I should be punished accordingly.” 

“It doesn’t matter, okay, Miles?” Phoenix insisted. “It’s okay. I can still clear your name. They can’t declare you guilty for this.” 

Miles shook his head and looked down at his hand, still holding the pistol that had killed his father only moments ago.

“Put the gun down, Miles. We’ll wipe your prints from it,” Phoenix urged Miles. 

“Y-You can’t do that,” Miles said, flinching away from Phoenix. His grip tightened on the gun. 

“We have to, Miles,” Phoenix said a little more forcefully. “We have to fix this. You can’t go to prison for this.” 

As if he weren’t in control of his limbs, he raised the pistol and pointed it at Phoenix’s chest. 

“I have to be punished for this! It’s my fault! It’s my fault he’s dead!” Miles choked out through his sobs. “You can’t clear my name!” 

“I can. I can make this right, Miles. You have to trust me,” Phoenix pleaded as if he wasn’t fazed by the gun in Miles’s hand at all. “Please, just take my hand, Miles. I’ll save you from this, okay? Put the gun down.”

Miles shook his head wordlessly.

The gun cocked. 

Miles began to tremble, sensing what was coming but feeling powerless to stop it.

“Get away from me,” Miles pleaded, tears beginning to fall onto his cheeks. “Please—please get away from me.”

“I won’t,” Phoenix said defiantly as he stepped forward again. His chest pressed against the barrel of the gun. “Not until you let me help you.” 

Once again, feeling helpless as his body responded on its own, his finger squeezed the trigger, and the shot was muffled by the fabric of the sweater at the end of the barrel.

Phoenix’s gaze didn’t leave him, but his eyes widened in shock as his abdomen began to bleed before he collapsed backward, landing beside Miles’s father. 

“I…I can still help you, Miles, please…let me,” Phoenix croaked. “Give me the gun.” 

“Shut up! ” Miles screamed. “Shut up! I don’t need your help! I did this! Me!”  

The fluorescent lights of the elevator flickered back on, casting both Phoenix and his father in a sickly glow. 

“It’s okay, Miles…I…forgive you…” Phoenix gasped as he breathed his last. Miles stared in horror at Phoenix’s body as it stilled. His eyes were still open but devoid of any life. 

The elevator jerked into motion before Miles could do anything, and the door chimed its arrival. As the doors opened, they revealed another person outside the elevator. There was another click—the sound of a gun being cocked again. Before Miles could even comprehend what was happening, there was another gunshot.

Miles jolted awake, gasping in shuddering breaths and accidentally shoving Phoenix, who had shifted in the night. Sobs began to overtake him, and he immediately tried to stifle them. He hadn’t had a nightmare that bad in a while. 

“Mrmph?” Phoenix groaned, rolling over. Phoenix stretched and realized that Miles was already awake. “Hey,” he said with sleep coating his voice, “everything good?”

“Y-Yeah,” Miles said through shuddering breaths. “Sorry.” He didn’t want to burden Phoenix with his own nightmares, especially after Phoenix’s meltdown the night before. 

“Oh God, Miles,” Phoenix said, sitting up a little more. He must have noticed the haunted look on his face and his shallow gasps for air. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“It’s…it’s nothing, it’s just—I don’t know. A-A dream I had…” Miles admitted, reaching up and pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. “Sorry,” he repeated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“It’s okay,” Phoenix assured him. “It seemed like a pretty bad dream. Do you wanna talk about it? Would that help?”

“N-No,” Miles said firmly. After a beat, he added, “Not yet, sorry, I just…I need to—” He shook his head.

“Okay, yeah,” Phoenix interrupted to reassure Miles. “We don’t have to get up for a little bit. At least we have a few hours before breakfast…we can relax for a little longer if that would help.”

“Yeah,” Miles sighed as he closed his eyes again and sighed in relief as his senses returned. Phoenix laid down next to him again. Miles tried to close his eyes, but the scene from his nightmare still lingered. He opened his eyes as he tried to steady his breathing. 

Next to him, Phoenix curled up against Miles, slinging an arm across his torso and burying his face between Miles’s shoulder and the pillow. 

Miles desperately wanted the tension in his body to release, but he ached with the horrid jitters that the nightmare left him with. He couldn’t stay still without the anxiety finding him and wreaking havoc on his heart rate.

He squirmed a bit before pulling himself out of bed and Phoenix’s grasp. 

“Miles?” Phoenix said, looking crest-fallen and concerned as Miles stood up.

“Sorry, I’m just—I’m not feeling well,” Miles admitted as he started pacing the room. 

“No…no, you don’t need to apologize. It’s fine,” Phoenix muttered as he sat up and watched Miles move back and forth. “You’re sure you don’t want to talk about it? It seems…bad…”

“It’s…ah, not right now,” Miles told him. 

“Yeah, of course, you don’t need to…” Phoenix mumbled. “I just…is there anything I can do for you right now?”

“No, no, not really,” Miles refused quickly.

“Right, uh, well, let me know. I…I want to help. So just let me know if there’s anything…” Phoenix offered. “I like feeling useful,” he admitted.

Miles glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes as he anxiously wrung his hands. 

“I’ll…I’ll be okay. I just…I think I need some time and space, that’s it,” Miles replied weakly. 

“Yeah, sure,” Phoenix said, resolutely nodding his head in approval. 

“How…how are you feeling after last night?” Miles asked, seemingly desperate to shift the focus from himself. 

“I…I probably need food. My head is aching.” Phoenix gently rubbed his temples. “Maybe I’m dehydrated too…” 

“Should I see about having breakfast brought up to us? As far as they know, you may still be feeling ill,” Miles offered, pausing his rampant pacing. 

“No, we probably shouldn’t avoid them for too long after last night.” Phoenix shook off Miles’s concern. “I’ll be fine. After all, I don’t want them canceling our trip to the Christmas market.”

“Right,” Miles sighed, resuming his pacing. 

“Hey, can you at least sit down?” Phoenix asked. “You’re making me dizzy.” 

“Sorry,” Miles muttered as he forced himself to stop. “Other than the headache, how are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Phoenix responded with a shrug. 

“Mm,” Miles hummed. 

“Sorry again about…” Phoenix murmured.  “Everything last night. It should have been a fun night and I kind of…ruined it.” 

“It’s…it’s fine,” Miles sighed. “You didn’t ruin anything. I…I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable last night.” 

“Huh?” Phoenix asked with a frown.

“W-With the way I was acting after we returned…I was probably a little wine-drunk and was acting… inappropriately after everything. I suppose I was just…I was desperate to make you feel better.” 

“Miles,” Phoenix laughed quietly. “That’s actually really sweet of you…and it was kinda nice…seeing you like that, y’know?”

“Horrifically embarrassing,” Miles retorted. 

“I wasn’t embarrassed… I was just…tired,” Phoenix admitted. 

“I know, and I should have been more…conscious of that fact,” Miles replied. 

“If I hadn’t been so tired, I wouldn’t have minded. In fact, I probably would have encouraged you,” Phoenix said with a quiet snort. 

“Th-There was nothing to encourage!” Miles insisted as his face flushed. 

“Okay, okay!” Phoenix chuckled at Miles’s sudden outburst. “Anyway, thanks for…letting me sleep here…on you last night. I think it really helped after everything.”

“I’m…I’m happy it helped,” Miles said.  

They got ready in relative silence, both of them feeling sluggish and exhausted after last night. 

The odd tension began to dissipate as they puttered around. Phoenix whistled a nameless tune as he sorted through his clothes. They discussed the best outfits for both of them, what the temperature would be like, and what would be the most comfortable on the train ride there and back. 

Once they were dressed, it was time to head down to breakfast and Miles went to the door of the bedroom.

“Wait, wait, before we go down there,” Phoenix said, stopping Miles in his tracks.

“Yes?” Miles turned to see what Phoenix needed, and he saw one of the bags from their shopping trip sitting on the bed, but it was a shopping bag from a store he didn’t recognize. 

“What…?” Miles asked. 

“Your Christmas gift,” Phoenix said as he nudged the bag across the bed towards Miles. 

“My…what?” Miles frowned. 

“Your gift! Open it. You didn’t forget that it was Christmas Day, did you?”

“Yes…but…well, gift exchanges aren’t exactly part of von Karma’s traditions,” Miles said softly as he took a hesitant step towards the bed again. “We usually just celebrate on Christmas Eve with the party, then…” 

“I don’t care. I’m not here for him. He didn’t bring me to Germany as a fake boyfriend.”

“God, I hope not.” Miles huffed at the idea. 

“Shut up,” Phoenix laughed. “Just open it, okay?”

“I…I didn’t get you anything.” Miles reached out and finally touched the bag, pulling it towards him.

“Oh, my god, Miles, I did not just hear you say that,” Phoenix laughed as he folded his arms across his chest. Miles looked at him in confusion. “Miles. You bought me like…thousands of dollars worth of stupid-expensive fancy clothes.”    

“It was not thousands, Wright.”

“I know you paid a pretty penny for those suits, not to mention all the clothes from those boutiques weren’t cheap either. I could see the price tags while I was trying them on.”

“Well. Those aren’t…fun gifts, per se,” Miles muttered.

“It doesn’t matter, just—Open. The. Gift,” Phoenix said tightly, almost as if he were threatening Miles. 

“Okay! Okay,” Miles pulled the bag all the way towards him before digging into the bag. His hands reached inside and found a cool metal surface. He lifted the item from the bag as the tissue paper fell away. 

In his hands was a tin lunch box that had to be at least ten years old. It had the three Signal Samurai on the front from the television show they all watched as kids. The bittersweet nostalgia swelled up inside him, and he couldn’t find his words to even formulate a response. Miles must have been standing there with a stupid look on his face. 

“It’s…pretty neat, right?” Phoenix asked when Miles hadn’t said anything yet. 

“Wh-Where on earth did you find something like this?” Miles croaked.

“When we went shopping the other day,” Phoenix explained. “While you guys were getting lunch. There was a cool little collectibles shop we had walked by.”

“I-I thought you had simply run to the restroom,” Miles said with a shrug, looking up. 

“And came back with a shopping bag? I thought for sure you saw me with the bag.” 

“I…I didn’t. You must have hidden it among the other bags we had collected that day…” Miles remarked. 

“Yep! Wow, I’m so glad that was an actual surprise…” Phoenix chuckled nervously.

Miles smiled softly as he turned the lunch tin over in his hands to continue looking at the artwork on the side of it. 

“Y-You don’t have to actually use it as a lunch tin. It’s just…something fun that I thought you might be able to keep things in if you’d like. Or…something. I dunno.” 

“Phoenix, it’s wonderful,” Miles said, finally smiling up at Phoenix. It was the first time Phoenix had seen him smile that morning. “I—I can’t believe you went to the trouble of finding something like this.” 

“Well, it’s kinda just sheer dumb luck we happened to walk by the shop in the mall and I thought my eye caught something from the series. And the fact that you had shown me that you still have your Signal Samurai keychain. I don’t think I would have had the courage to do something like this without…something like that.” 

“Courage?” Miles frowned.

“Yeah. I didn’t know if it still meant the same to you as it did back then. But the fact that you still had it…means maybe you value it as much as I do? And I dunno, it’s just a fun reminder of when we used to be kids, and things weren’t so complicated, you know?” 

“Y-Yes…” Miles smiled again between Phoenix and the lunch box.  “I’ll treasure it, Phoenix. Thank you.” 

Miles stepped forward, pressing a soft kiss to Phoenix’s cheek. 

Phoenix stammered as he began to fidget with his fingers.

Miles tucked it away with his luggage before turning around.

They gathered their coats and things they would need for that day’s travels and headed downstairs. Before entering the dining room, they left their coats on the coat rack just outside.

Phoenix hooked his hand around Miles’s elbow, following him into the dining hall.

“Good morning!” Phoenix called.

“Phoenix Wright!” a voice greeted them, and Phoenix spotted Franziska standing from the table where she had already been seated. 

“Wh-Wh—?” Phoenix subconsciously hid behind Miles again, his hand pointing at himself as if he were unsure Franziska was addressing him even though she used his full name.

“Are you all right?” Franziska asked, sounding concerned, but she looked as scary as ever.

“W-Were you worried for me, Franziska von Karma?” Phoenix asked as he slowly came out from behind Miles again. 

“It wouldn’t do well to have an ill guest in the house, especially on Christmas,” Franziska said, folding her arms across her chest. “So? Are you feeling better?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m feeling much better, thanks to Miles! He took such good care of me last night,” Phoenix replied with a dreamy sigh as he leaned his head against Miles’s shoulder, and von Karma choked mid-bite on his eggs. Miles pursed his lips and tried to suppress a snort at von Karma’s reaction even though his own face glowed bright red from embarrassment.

“Hush,” Miles whispered, but Franziska didn’t seem fazed by the implication—she merely shrugged. Miles walked them to the table to sit across from Franziska as usual. 

“Very well,” Franziska said, sitting down again as they took their places at the table. “Are you recovered enough to go to the Christmas Market today?” Franziska asked. 

“Oh, yes! I’m so excited,” Phoenix remarked. “I’ve always wanted to visit an authentic German Christmas Market! Plus, it’s so romantic,” Phoenix smiled.

Franziska spent breakfast telling Phoenix all about the market they would visit that day. He listened intently as she told him about years past and her favorite parts. As they wrapped up their meal, von Karma stood from the table. 

“Mikael will be in shortly. Your train leaves in a little over an hour,” he said. “Enjoy yourselves.”

“Wait, Papa…you’re not coming with us?” Franziska asked. 

“I’m afraid not, my dear,” von Karma replied. “I just received news of a case I’ll take on this week. I’ll need sufficient time to prepare. It seems quite…convoluted,” he continued. “It seems that the most convoluted, heinous crimes happen during the holidays…”

Miles shuddered involuntarily beside Phoenix but didn’t raise his gaze from his plate, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

“Oh,” Franziska sighed. “Right, of course.” 

Von Karma nodded and left the room, and suddenly, the dining hall was awkwardly silent. 

“I’m…I’m sorry, Franziska,” Miles muttered softly, sensing her disappointment. 

“It’s…it’s okay,” Franziska replied. “I’m sure you and Phoenix Wright will enjoy yourself more without Papa hovering nearby.” 

They fell silent again, and it seemed as if there was more Miles had wanted to say to her. Phoenix was at a loss for what to do for them. They were interrupted by the sound of the chauffeur being introduced by Hans. 

“Ready to go when you three are,” Mikael said casually, as if he couldn’t sense the odd tension in the room.

“I’ll meet you out front. I need to go get my things,” Franziska said curtly, leaving the dining hall brusquely. 

Phoenix exchanged a look with Miles. 

“Well, I suppose we should get going,” Miles said stiffly.

“Is everything okay?” Phoenix asked in a hushed tone as they got up. 

“I’m sure it will be,” Miles muttered in response to Phoenix’s question. 

Phoenix frowned at the response. 

They fetched their coats and scarves before following Mikael to the car. The chauffeur opened the door for the two of them, and after they got in, he closed it again. 

They had a moment of privacy as Mikael stood outside of the car, lighting a cigarette as he waited for Franziska to make her appearance. 

“Does…does he…von Karma usually go with you to outings like this?” Phoenix asked. 

“Not always,” Miles responded shortly as he shook his head. 

“It looked like Franziska was really disappointed,” Phoenix remarked. 

“From what I’ve gathered from the little correspondence I’ve had with her since I’ve come back to America, it seems as if he’s been busier than ever. And I don’t think Franziska often sees him outside the courthouse,” Miles explained softly. “When we were younger, we used to have more…outings, especially after court cases. We’d watch him prosecute and then usually go to get lunch afterward or even go shopping to get Franziska a new toy. I think she hoped to have that kind of time together again since I’m in town and…well, it’s Christmas,” Miles said. 

“That’s…that’s a shame,” Phoenix replied, unsure what else to say. He knew he wouldn’t understand the odd little family—von Karma’s whole demeanor suggested he was the least pleasant man ever to spend time with… 

But then again, he was still this little girl’s father, and of course, it would make sense that she’d want to spend time with her father and brother on a holiday.

They weren’t able to discuss it anymore before Franziska made her appearance. Miles and Phoenix straightened up and put on their seatbelts as Franziska entered the car, sitting on the bench opposite them. 

Phoenix glanced out of the corner of his eye toward Franziska. Her eyes were a little red and swollen, and it seemed like she wore less makeup than she had on at breakfast. He wondered if she’d gone to get her bag as an excuse to go and cry. He felt awful for her. 

It steeled Phoenix’s resolve. They were going to have a great fucking day. He would make sure that she enjoyed her time with him and Miles just as much as she would have with her father. 

“So, how long is the train ride again?” Phoenix asked no one in particular. Before Miles could answer, Franziska interrupted him to give the lengthy details about the trip to Dresden. 

x

Once they’d gotten to the train station, it didn’t take them very long to find their platform and board their specific train. The station was buzzing with all the holiday traffic—families traveling with young children, individuals looking slightly hung over from the night before…

They got settled, and Phoenix subtly reached for Miles’s hand to hold before asking Franziska where they should start their visit at the market since he’d never been before.

Over the next hour or two, Miles dozed on and off as they made their way toward Dresden, and Phoenix distracted Franziska with all kinds of questions. 

Phoenix thought it was cute with Miles trying to remain upright and awake but slowly nodding off, his head dipping as he fell unconscious. He couldn’t help but snicker as Miles’s head finally drooped onto his shoulder. 

Franziska was absently peeling the label off of the bottled iced coffee she’d got at the station. Once she finally got a large enough piece, she rolled it between her fingers and took aim. She flicked it towards Miles, hitting him square in the forehead before bouncing off and landing on the floor. Miles flinched in his sleep but remained passed out against Phoenix’s shoulder.

Phoenix had to hold in his guffaw. The way the piece of label bounced off Miles was incredibly funny, and Franziska’s face lit up when she saw how much it had amused Phoenix. 

She started to tear off another piece. 

“Oi, come on,” Phoenix hissed silently but allowed a goofy grin to take over his face. “Let him be.” 

“I never get the chance to see him so…unguarded. I have to strike while the iron is hot, Phoenix Wright,” Franziska argued quietly. 

“No, you don’t,” Phoenix said, reaching out a foot to gently nudge her. 

“Fine,” Franziska huffed, rolling her eyes. 

Phoenix wanted to say something to her, express his feelings that he was sorry her father wasn’t joining them and that he hoped she could still have a good time with them.

“You both left the party so early last night. I don’t understand how he’s so tired,” Franziska said.

“Ah, he…I think he had some pretty bad dreams last night,” Phoenix muttered. “You know how tired you feel after having stressful dreams all night? That’s probably why…”

“Oh,” Franziska sighed. It seemed as if something clicked in her mind. “Right,” she murmured as if she’d just realized something. Phoenix thought that was an odd reaction but didn’t think too hard about it. 

“At least I hope this means he’ll be well-rested for the rest of the day!” Phoenix shifted the subject. 

“Hopefully,” Franziska said hollowly. With this final remark, Franziska fell quiet, eventually pulling out a book to read on the ride. Phoenix thought about asking her about her book, but it seemed she was done talking for now. He returned his gaze to the view out his window and enjoyed the relative quiet of the train.

x

Miles woke up shortly before they arrived in Dresden. He softly apologized for falling asleep on Phoenix, who simply chuckled and squeezed Miles’s hand. 

When Franziska noticed Miles was awake, she looked up from her book and looked out the window before checking her stylish wristwatch. 

“How much longer?” Miles asked, noticing her checking the time as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. 

“About twenty minutes out,” Franziska remarked as she tucked away her book. “Did you get a good nap?” 

Miles blushed and mumbled something even Phoenix couldn’t catch. 

“How many times have you gone to this Christmas Market?” Phoenix asked. Miles shifted in his seat, sitting up. 

“Only a few times. Probably two times before this?” Miles replied. 

“It’s too far to make the trek every year, but I think it’s worth it,” Franziska remarked. 

“It is quite fun. I think you’ll enjoy it, dear,” Miles said, glancing at Phoenix. Phoenix felt such a warmth blossom in his chest at Miles’s words. They weren’t necessarily special, but there was something so soft, so sure…so familiar that Phoenix wanted to explode in happiness. He wanted to bottle this feeling to save for later. 

“Yeah?” Phoenix finally eked out. 

“Yeah,” Miles repeated. “Let’s get our things together so we’re ready…Franziska, what’s the plan when we get in?” he asked. 

“I don’t know why I have to be the one to plan out your Christmas with your boyfriend.” Franziska rolled her eyes, but something about her tone made Phoenix think she enjoyed being in charge of the two men. 

Miles fixed her with a tired look.

“Lunch first at the food stalls,” Franziska finally answered. “Then walking around to take in the sights, maybe catch some of the live performances…?”

Franziska and Miles chatted about the few things they saw in previous years that they were hoping to see this time around. 

Soon enough, they were pulling into the station and deboarded the train. 

As they left the station, Phoenix could feel the chilled air nip at his nose and cheeks. The streets outside were bustling with people. 

The market was a short distance away, and even from a distance, Phoenix felt breathless at the sight. As they entered, Phoenix tried to look at everything he possibly could, which led to Miles holding tight to his hand in an attempt not to lose Phoenix in the crowd. The lights, the stands…all set against the backdrop of old castles. It felt like something out of a fairytale. 

They stopped at some food stalls, and Phoenix let Miles and Franziska order them a smorgasbord of whatever they suggested. Everything smelled and looked so amazing. Phoenix was salivating. 

There was a small dining area set up just a short distance from the food stands, and they were able to find a place to sit and eat. Then, once they were finished with their food, they continued their journey further into the market. 

The group enjoyed looking through all the stalls and passing by various entertainers, from puppeteers to street magicians.

Eventually, they reached the very center of the market, where a grand carousel stood with a short line of families and kids waiting to have a chance to ride. 

“Oh, Franziska von Karma!” Phoenix called as he tugged Miles toward the carousel.

“What?” Franziska turned to follow her brother wherever Phoenix was leading them. 

“Let's ride the carousel!” Phoenix pleaded. “It’ll be fun!”

“That ride is for children, Phoenix Wright,” Franziska grumbled. “Seriously?”

“Miles, what do you think? Can we go? Please? It’d be magical,” Phoenix pleaded. Miles looked hesitant, glancing between him and Franziska.

“W-Well…I don’t think…” Miles muttered.

“Oh, wait—I’ll go if Miles Edgeworth does!” Franziska decided. Phoenix smiled to himself. He’d unwittingly appealed to her need to make a fool out of her little brother.

“Yes! C’mon Miles, it’ll be romantic!” Phoenix continued excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“I-I’m not climbing up on one of those—th-those seats,” Miles stated, flustered and folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t know what about it you think is romantic, but—”

“The lights, the music…” Phoenix sighed.

“Being surrounded by children?” Miles added in a deadpan tone.

“Sure!” Phoenix exclaimed, not seeming to care that Miles was poking fun at him. “You don’t have to get up on one of the horses, you know. They have stationary benches that we could use.” 

Miles turned over this option in his head before deflating, his shoulders sagging with a sigh.

“Fine. Very well,” Miles agreed in a defeated tone. 

Despite her initial scorn of the carousel, as they waited in line, Franziska seemed to be excited by the ride, mesmerized by the lights and the figures of the ponies. Phoenix stood and smiled as he nuzzled up against Miles. Miles turned his head and looked down at Phoenix. 

“You certainly seem proud of yourself,” Miles murmured. 

“Yeah, I convinced two party poopers to go on the carousel with me,” Phoenix said with a grin.

“Ridiculous,” Miles grumbled, shaking his head. 

“I’m not a party pooper, Phoenix Wright,” Franziska growled upon hearing Phoenix’s statement. 

“You kind of are, Franziska von Karma,” Phoenix said before he stuck his tongue out at her. “Both you and your little brother.” 

Franziska snorted, clearly pleased that Phoenix referred to Miles as her younger brother. 

“You’re not so bad, Phoenix Wright,” she admitted with a smirk. 

Miles watched as the two of them continued to tease each other while they stood in line. He smiled softly to himself, happy to see Franziska so unguarded and so…so much like a kid. He had to catch his breath a bit at the realization. It had simply been enough to have Phoenix around and have Manfred von Karma out of the picture, and she finally loosened up. 

Here she wasn’t the intimidating prodigy prosecutor. She was simply a teenager who enjoyed giving her brother’s boyfriend a hard time. And Phoenix could give it right back. He wasn’t intimidated by her like most people were. He didn’t see her as a prodigy or a prosecutor. He saw her first and foremost as a teenager…as a little sister.

Miles felt a fondness settle in his heart as he watched them argue about something inane. Much to his dismay, he began to realize how much he had fallen in love with Phoenix over the past few days. 

Suddenly, the image of the life fading from Phoenix’s eyes after Miles pulled the trigger in his dream from that morning flashed through his mind.

Perhaps this was a mistake. 

He couldn’t let Phoenix in close enough for him to realize the truth about his past and what he’d done…

But for once…just this once, Miles allowed himself to worry about it later. 

Miles reached out and grabbed hold of Phoenix’s gloved hand. He smiled softly as he looked back at Phoenix. 

“Is something the matter?” Phoenix asked, glancing at Miles. 

“N-No,” Miles replied. “Just thinking…” Miles shrugged. 

“Thinking? About what?” Phoenix egged him on. “About me?”

“No, I don’t think so. Those are my private thoughts, thank you,” Miles retorted, his soft smile contorting into a sneer. 

“Aw,” Phoenix sighed. “Come on, it’s almost our turn!” he exclaimed as the line moved up. As the passengers of the previous ride were being let off, Phoenix and Franziska crafted a strategy to achieve the seats they would claim. 

When the gate opened, and the few people in front of them started entering the ride, both Phoenix and Franziska made a mad dash around towards the seats they had staked out. 

“You’re both making fools out of one another!” Miles called as he leisurely entered the gate and followed after them. 

As Miles caught up, Phoenix was helping Franziska up onto the horse in front of a stationary carriage. 

“I don’t require help, Phoenix Wright,” Franziska declared, even as she used  Phoenix’s hand to steady herself.

“That one is ours!” Phoenix pointed over his shoulder at the carriage just behind the pony Franziska was riding. Phoenix had already thrown his scarf on the seat to reserve it for them. Miles shook his head at the two of them as he slid onto the stationary bench before Phoenix joined him. 

“She…she looks happy,” Miles remarked as Phoenix scooted in closely. 

“She does, doesn't she?” Phoenix giggled, smiling proudly. Miles rolled his eyes but clutched Phoenix’s hand in his own. 

“What are you two muttering about?” Franziska turned in her seat to address the two of them. Before either of them could reply, the ride stuttered into motion, and Franziska yelped as the horse she was on started to move. 

“Hold on, Franziska!” Miles chided. 

“Shut up, Miles Edgeworth, I just wasn’t ready yet!” Franziska called.

As the ride picked up speed, the horse moved up and down at a quicker pace. Franziska giggled to herself before outright laughing in joy, glancing over her shoulder at where her brother and Phoenix sat. 

“This is ridiculous!” Franziska called. 

Phoenix laughed brightly, clearly pleased that she was having such a good time. He glanced over at Miles, who was watching him with a warm smile. Phoenix felt his heart flutter in his chest. Leaning in, he rested his head against Miles’s shoulder, trying to absorb as much of the moment as he possibly could. 

It ended way too fast, in Phoenix’s opinion.

Now that they were off the ride, they continued meandering through the market.

They wandered upon a large ice rink in one part of the market. Phoenix watched as people skated by—it seemed so magical. He had terrible balance though, so Phoenix knew he would most likely fall on his ass and make a fool out of himself if he asked Miles to go skating. 

“Well, do we want to go skating?” Miles asked as if suddenly reading his mind. 

Phoenix felt his stomach churn, not sure what he would do. Miles was asking him. He couldn’t possibly turn him down simply because he could look ridiculous doing it. 

“W-We don’t have to,” Miles said, realizing that Phoenix wasn’t giving an immediate answer. “Just…Just a suggestion.” 

“I…yeah, maybe,” Phoenix quickly blurted out. “What about you, Franziska?” 

She seemed just as hesitant. 

“I’m…not sure…I-I’m not very good at it,” Franziska muttered, looking pained to admit that there was something she was not perfect at. 

“You don’t have to be good at it,” Phoenix assured her. “I’m gonna be terrible too, probably.” 

“That’s okay,” Miles chuckled. “You’ll have me.” 

“So, you’re good at this?” Phoenix asked, sounding a little incredulous.

“Yes, I’m not half bad. I used to go ice skating with my father when I was younger. I’ve also done it a few times here in Germany at these markets. I’ve tried to teach Franziska, but as she said—”

“Enough, Miles Edgeworth!” Franziska hissed, her face turning even redder in her embarrassment. 

“I can take Phoenix for a bit if you want to go look around some more, and we can meet up again in a bit, how’s that?” Miles offered. Franziska mumbled something to herself and shrugged. 

“Is that okay? I mean, we don’t have to,” Phoenix said, trying to help settle the situation.

“Yes, that’s fine,” Franziska agreed. They made a plan to meet up again and Franziska sulked away. Phoenix felt a little bad to send her off on her own.

Miles and Phoenix went to rent some skates. Once they each had a pair in hand, they sat down to change their shoes and tucked them away in a small cubby. Slowly, they wobbled over to an entrance to the rink, and Phoenix held fast to Miles. 

Miles was the first one on the ice, and Phoenix watched his feet as he took his own hesitant steps into the rink. 

“Oh, god, this was a mistake—” Phoenix breathed before immediately toppling over. Miles fought to hold onto his own balance as Phoenix did his best to try to pull himself back up onto his feet.

“Are you okay?” Miles asked with a slight smile as his skates slowly slid backward. Miles helped him to the edge of the ice rink. Phoenix held on to Miles as he helped pull him to his feet. “Just stand still for a moment and get used to feeling the balance of the blades beneath you.” 

“Yeah, you make it sound easy,” Phoenix grumbled as he held tightly to the edge. 

“I know,” Miles said with a sheepish smile, offering Phoenix his hand again. “Come on.” 

Phoenix sighed and held out his hands to take hold of Miles’s. Gripping both hands tightly, Phoenix slowly allowed himself to be pulled away from the edge. Miles slowly drifted backward, leading Phoenix along. 

“Okay, now you’re going to move your feet a little,” Miles instructed. 

Phoenix picked up his foot and began to wobble.

“Wright, oh my goodness, stop,” Miles snorted. “Not like that. You’re going to push off. Watch my feet, okay?” Miles confirmed. Phoenix nodded as Miles slowly pushed one of his feet across the ice to propel himself. 

“O-Okay,” Phoenix nodded. After another few minutes of talking it through, Phoenix looked a little more confident on the blades. He still held tight to Miles, but they had gotten all the way around the rink. Miles turned himself around so he’d be facing forward again. 

“I don’t think I’m ready for this,” Phoenix muttered, still holding tightly to the crook of Miles’s elbow. 

“You’re fine, love,” Miles said softly. “I’m not going to go fast, okay?” 

Phoenix’s stomach twisted pleasantly hearing Miles call him “love.”

They continued along the rink's edge, and as they arrived back where they started, they saw Franziska wobbling her way toward them. Phoenix couldn’t help but giggle in delight, not just because of her similar wobbly stance, but just because she’d decided to join them after all.

“I thought you weren’t going to join us?” Miles said in disbelief as he reached out a hand for her to steady herself.

“I wasn’t going to, but seeing how foolish Phoenix Wright looked gave me some confidence!” she declared. 

“Oh, glad I can be so inspirational!” Phoenix replied sarcastically. “Are you going to skate with us?”   

“I-I—” Franziska started. She looked like she wanted to say no. 

“Come on! If one of us goes down, we’re all going down!” Phoenix reached a hand out to her as well to complete the circle.

“Oh, no,” Miles breathed as Franziska took Phoenix’s hand hesitantly. 

“You’re all completely ridiculous!” Franziska giggled. Phoenix chuckled, squeezing Franziska’s hand.

They floundered for a bit, trying to figure out how to best skate together with both Phoenix and Franziska’s terrible balance. They settled for Franziska and Phoenix on either side of Miles, who begrudgingly accepted his role.  

Franziska grew brave enough to venture away from them their second or third time around the rink, skating in an unsure circle around them before wobbling back to Miles and Phoenix.

They finally decided to call it quits and return the skates as the sun was beginning to set. Miles suggested they warm up with some mulled wine or apple cider. They sipped their beverages as they circled back to areas they had already been. The market almost looked completely different than it did during the day. The magnificent lights added extra magic to the atmosphere. 

Franziska hesitated as they passed the Ferris wheel, looking up at it. 

“Hah, it’s okay, I won’t make us go on that,” Phoenix quickly assured Franziska. 

“Oh,” Franziska said with a soft sigh. 

“Wait. Really? You want to go on that?” Miles asked. Phoenix’s heart sank and his anxiety spiked. 

“I-I mean…I had a fun time on the other one…” Franziska shyly admitted. “I thought if you wanted us to do the carousel, you’d want us to do this too!”  

“No, no, we don’t have to do any more rides tonight. I’m glad I got the both of you on the merry-go-round after all!” Phoenix chuckled nervously. 

“Well, I want to go on it,” Franziska decided. 

“Great, we’ll wait for you down here,” Phoenix promised. “Maybe we’ll go get some more food—” 

“Hold on a moment, Phoenix Wright,” Franziska interrupted him. “If you convinced us to go on the other one, and Miles Edgeworth convinced us to go skating—I’m convincing you to go with me on this one.” 

“O-Oh, no. That’s okay,” Phoenix quickly replied, shaking his head subconsciously. He already felt nauseous at the idea of being up that high for a prolonged amount of time.

“What—are you afraid, Phoenix Wright?” Franziska asked. 

“I—yeah, actually I am,” Phoenix admitted, with a sheepish look on his face. 

“Ugh! What about you, Miles Edgeworth?” she asked, turning towards him. 

“I’m not that fond of heights, either,” Miles replied, looking about as pale as Phoenix. 

“You’re no fun!” Franziska groaned. “Either of you!”

“Ah…I…I suppose we could go if you really want to, Franziska,” Miles said softly. 

“Really?” Franziska exclaimed, her face lighting up. 

“Hey, don’t speak for both of us!” Phoenix hissed, feeling his stomach drop. 

“C’mon, it’s not every day Franziska wants to have fun like this. I can’t deny her now,” Miles said quietly, as if to keep Franziska from hearing him. 

“Yes. Yes, you can,” Phoenix argued, matching his low tone. 

“Hey,” Franziska said with a pout but looked pleased that her request was being seriously considered now.

“Fine, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to, Phoenix. I’ll take her,” Miles said, but he still looked terse and pale. 

Phoenix glanced over to Franziska, and he recalled Miles’s worries about her not being able to take the time to be a teenager. Judging by her initial reaction at the carousel, she never would have suggested this, especially if her father was around. And how many opportunities would she have to enjoy herself like this during her teenage years?

“Ugh, fine. I won’t make you go alone,” Phoenix sighed. “But I’m holding on to you the whole time, and you’re not allowed to let go of me,” he declared, reaching for Miles’s hand and clasping it firmly within his own. 

“Of course not,” Miles said as if it were preposterous to even consider. 

Franziska excitedly led them toward the queue, and Phoenix began subtly shaking as they approached the front of the line. At least the little carts were mostly enclosed, and two bench seats faced each other so he wouldn’t have to look down if he didn’t have to. 

Once they were at the front, they were allowed to pile into one of the little capsules, and the ride attendant shut the door and engaged the safety mechanism. The Ferris wheel jerked into motion, and Phoenix let out a whimper as he tightened his grip on Miles. 

Franziska looked out excitedly before looking back at her brother and his boyfriend. 

“We just started, Phoenix Wright. We’re hardly two meters off the ground,” Franziska said, rolling her eyes at him. 

“I-It’s just the anticipation!” Phoenix squeaked. He felt Miles’s grasp on him tighten even more in response if that was possible. 

“And Miles Edgeworth, you’re white as a sheet!” Franziska commented. 

“Di-Did we not tell you, Franziska?” Miles said through gritted teeth. “Neither of us are fond of heights.” 

“I mean, yes, but this is really quite ridiculous,” Franziska said, looking back over the Christmas market as they were pulled higher. “It’s so pretty up here!” 

The basket swung a little as the Ferris wheel paused to let more people off and more people on. 

“Oh, fuck,” Phoenix whimpered, curling in on Miles, pressing his forehead against his shoulder, and closing his eyes. 

“There’s no need for such crude language,” Franziska chastised him, but Phoenix couldn’t muster a response. “Besides, I thought Ferris wheels were supposed to be romantic or something.” 

“They would be if we weren’t dangling a million feet in the air!” Phoenix protested. 

“Eh, I’d say about five meters now,” Franziska glanced out the side of the basket again. 

“Besides, could we really have a romantic time sitting across from my little sister?” Miles said tightly, trying to avoid looking out across the market as they climbed higher. 

Franziska cleared her throat. 

“My sister,” he corrected himself. 

Franziska cleared her throat again. 

“My big sister,” Miles groaned to himself. 

“I can look away if you’d prefer your privacy,” Franziska offered, finally acknowledging her brother’s comment. 

“How considerate of you,” Miles replied bitterly. The Ferris wheel stopped again. This time, they were at the very top. At this point, Phoenix practically had his head in Miles’s lap as he shivered. “Phoenix, please don’t throw up,” Miles said weakly as he gently carded through Phoenix’s hair. 

“I-I’m not,” Phoenix said, his voice somewhat muffled by Miles’s coat. “I promise. How close are we to having this nightmare over with!?” 

“We’ve just made it halfway,” Franziska replied. 

There was a long, drawn-out moan from Phoenix, who sounded particularly miserable. 

“Oh, love,” Miles sighed softly. “I didn’t realize it’d be so bad for you.” 

“I-I-I told you! A-And I thought you said you were also afraid of heights?” Phoenix asked, his voice muffled by Miles’s jacket.  

“I…I’m not comfortable with them, but obviously handle them a little better than you do,” Miles retorted with a weak chuckle.

“Pathetic man, Phoenix Wright,” Franziska echoed her words from the other night. There was a bit of a lilt to it but also a glimmer of concern. 

As they continued to move Miles felt Phoenix go still at one point and panicked at the feeling of the shivers suddenly stopping. 

“Ph-Phoenix?” Miles called, his hand stilling in Phoenix’s hair. 

“Oh, my. Has he passed out?” Franziska asked, suddenly going pale.  

“Dear?” Miles repeated with no response from Phoenix.

“I think we’re supposed to get his legs elevated,” Franziska offered, beginning to reach for Phoenix’s legs.

“Phoenix…” Miles said, gently gripping his shoulder. Phoenix slowly sat up again, swaying slightly in his seat. 

“D-Did I just black out?” Phoenix muttered, blinking slowly. “I feel…dizzy.” 

“Oh, Phoenix, I’m so, so sorry,” Miles said as he gently guided Phoenix to rest his head on his shoulder. 

“S’okay,” Phoenix grumbled, closing his eyes and pressing against Miles’s shoulder again. “I mean, it’s not, but—” His voice faded as Miles gently rubbed Phoenix’s back.

When they finally made it around, they deboarded the Ferris Wheel. Phoenix was unsure of his legs and kept his hands firmly on Miles’s shoulders as support as he adjusted to being on solid ground. 

“Perhaps now would be a good time to get some more food,” Miles offered as he led them out of the exit for the Ferris Wheel. “Would that settle your stomach?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Phoenix refused. “Just…just give me a moment.” Phoenix unconsciously guided them to the side of the busy pathway, out of the way of the other passengers deboarding the ride. 

Miles slowly turned towards Phoenix, and reached for the other man’s hands that were still holding onto his shoulders. He reached an arm around Phoenix’s lower back so that Phoenix could lean on him. 

Phoenix took a few deep breaths to center himself again. 

“I don’t like this, Phoenix. I really don’t think you should be walking,” Miles muttered as he looked around for a place for them to sit.

“Yeah, give me a moment. I’ll be okay,” Phoenix repeated but swayed again on his feet.  

Miles looked as if he’d made up his mind. He turned his back to them and crouched down as if to offer Phoenix a piggyback ride. 

“Miles, please…” Phoenix groaned but looked ready to collapse again. He reached out and supported himself by grabbing hold of Miles’s shoulder again. 

“I don’t want you collapsing,” Miles insisted, looking back over his shoulder. Phoenix groaned before shifting slightly to calculate how to climb onto Miles without unbalancing him. Finally, Phoenix took hold of both of Miles’s shoulders and weakly scrambling onto Miles’s back.

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” Phoenix grumbled, resting his chin on Miles’s shoulders.

“You’re not a mess,” Miles replied, sounding exasperated. “I forced you to go on something you told us you didn’t want to ride. This is more my fault than anything.” 

Phoenix grumbled a protest, but it was largely unintelligible. 

They found an empty table to sit at a little further away and Miles set Phoenix down to let him recollect himself. Franziska fetched some food and a bit of water to help him recover. 

Phoenix gladly took the water to sip at and settle his stomach, and tried to nibble at the kroketten that Franziska had gotten them. His head began to clear and his stomach stopped churning so much. Miles continued to gently rub his back as Phoenix still kept a hand firmly planted on Miles’s thigh almost as if it were grounding him. 

Now that it seemed Phoenix was doing a bit better, Franziska stopped looking so worried and her gaze began to drift down a row of vendors.

“I want to go look for a gift for Papa,” Franziska said suddenly. 

“Let’s give Phoenix more time to recover, hm?” Miles requested. He was still worried that Phoenix hadn’t had enough time from essentially blacking out. In fact, Miles was wondering if they should call it an evening there and head back to the train station a little early just to be safe. He’d hate for Phoenix to collapse in the middle of the market if they continued to walk around. 

“I-I’m good, really—” Phoenix replied shakily.

“Fine, how about I go look down those rows of stalls and come back to see how you’re doing,” Franziska offered. “That will give you a little more time to rest.”

“Very well, but…if you’re looking down there, can you keep an eye out for…” Miles glanced at Phoenix who was still slightly trembling and looking into his paper cup. He beckoned her closer and whispered something to her. She frowned for a moment before shrugging slightly and nodded. 

“Very well,” Franziska said. “I’ll be back.” 

“What was that?” Phoenix looked up, seemingly realizing he had missed part of that exchange. 

“Nothing,” Miles quickly assured him, returning to gently rubbing Phoenix’s back.

Phoenix frowned. He didn’t want to assume it was something for him. If it was something personal, and Phoenix pushed too much…

“Okay,” Phoenix said, letting it drop without a second thought. 

“Do you want another mulled wine? I was thinking about going and getting another…maybe it’ll help your nerves?” Miles asked. His expression still held a great deal of anxiety and worry. Phoenix sighed, willing his body to start feeling better, if only for Miles’s sake.

“I mean, I probably don’t need anything like that,” Phoenix said, still unsure how his stomach felt. Though the pleasant fuzzy warmth of the spiced wine did sound quite nice…

“Well, I’m going to go get one regardless. Do you want me to get you one just in case?” Miles asked.

“Uh…Okay, yeah if you’re going. Sure,” Phoenix agreed. “Thanks.”

Miles disappeared, heading back in the direction of the concessions. 

As Phoenix sat alone, he enjoyed watching the other people go about their business there at the market. Phoenix closed his eyes for a moment and was truly amazed that he was even here at all. It really was like a miracle…some kind of fantasy that he was here, of all places, this Christmas with Miles Edgeworth, of all people. If he could go back six months and tell himself where he was, his past self would laugh at him. 

A few more moments passed, and Phoenix sat in a bleary haze. His body felt exhausted after the tension he’d been holding on the Ferris wheel. 

“Here you are, love,” Miles said softly as he returned and handed Phoenix one of the styrofoam cups in his hand. “One mulled wine for you.” 

“Love,” Phoenix repeated quietly before chuckling. Miles had been using the term of affection more and more when people weren’t even around to hear them.

“Please don’t give me grief, Wright,” Miles grumbled as he slouched, the soft tone in his voice disappearing for a moment. “I…I suppose I should have asked, is that endearment okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, it’s great. I’m not giving you grief, I promise. You’re just…cute,” Phoenix said dumbly.

“I wish I could say the same, but this garish scarf is saying otherwise,” Miles retorted, gently reaching forward and fussing with the bright red scarf around his neck before Phoenix could say anything else sweet.  It had been lopsided since Phoenix had retied it after the carousel ride.

“Hey. It is soft and warm, though,” Phoenix protested, leaning into Miles’s attention.

“This isn’t another gift from Miss Hawthorne, is it?” Miles asked casually, but there was a weight behind his words. They were dancing dangerously close to the conversations they’d had the previous night.

“Nah,” Phoenix said with a shrug. “This is a Phoenix original. And by original, I mean I bought it for myself.” There was a glint of melancholy pride in his expression as he said it.

Miles hummed to himself, almost as if in approval. Phoenix smiled softly at him before continuing.

“Though I admit, I may have bought it 'cause I thought it looked good with the sweater,” Phoenix said almost as if goading Miles on.

“Ridiculous,” Miles sighed in defeat. “We should have bought you a new scarf while we were out. This looks ridiculous with your newer, nicer outfits. The coat alone clashes—”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. No one else here is looking at anyone else to judge their fashion choices. You do realize that, right?”

“I suppose. But I’m judging.” Miles pouted.

“Oh, stop,” Phoenix snorted. “I really could have worn that—what did you call it? Pink monstrosity?” Phoenix grinned. “How do you think von Karma would react if I wore that one day? We could tell him you picked up knitting just to make it for me. Maybe he’d be impressed that you’ve perfected another skill.” 

“No, no—no more using things connecting you to that relationship,” Miles said sternly. “Besides—” Miles’s voice went soft again, “—I think you’ve desensitized him to your Phoenix antics by now. He probably wouldn’t be fazed at this point. Or maybe he’d become suspicious that we really are just pulling his leg.” 

“Maybe,” Phoenix chuckled with a shrug. 

They returned to a comfortable silence as the market continued to buzz around them. 

“I just hope…one day you forgive me,” Miles said softly, seemingly out of nowhere. Even though he was speaking to Phoenix, he was gazing out to the market. He wasn’t even turned towards Phoenix as he hunched in on himself. 

“Forgive you?” Phoenix asked, with a frown as he set his mulled wine down, turning his attention fully towards Miles. “Forgive you for what?”

“For everything. For not writing back. For losing contact. For inviting you here after all of that for selfish reasons.” Miles finally turned and snuck a glance at Phoenix. 

“Oh.” 

Miles looked away again. They were quiet for a beat before Phoenix found his words, “Miles, you don’t have to punish yourself for those things.”

“Why not? After you went to such lengths to track me down again…” Miles muttered. “And I…I was too proud…? O-Or too scared to ever reply to you. I only replied when it’d benefit me, and I’m…truly sorry for that,” he apologized.

Phoenix wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t want Miles to feel guilty, but at the same time, it did sting a little that all of his letters went unanswered until now. He understood that Miles had quite the tumultuous upbringing after his father died, but…

When Phoenix didn’t say anything immediately, Miles spoke up again.

“We…we could have been friends again. I-I probably could have used a friend like you when I returned to the States,” he said softly.

“Miles,” Phoenix sighed, scooting closer to him on the bench and turning his body towards Miles. “It’s okay. I…I think I understand why you might have avoided me for all this time,” he said, speaking before his thoughts could catch up to him. 

“Oh, you do? Please enlighten me then,” Miles huffed, turning towards Phoenix again, sounding a little irked. Phoenix winced. He didn’t mean for it to come off in a way that implied Phoenix knew Miles better than Miles himself did.  

“I-I mean. It’s just a guess,” Phoenix started, “but we were only friends for a short amount of time…when we were kids, it felt like forever. But looking back…we were only good friends for a few months before your dad…before you moved. I’m sure whenever you thought of me—o-of us, me and Larry—it…might have also made you think of painful memories. Or something like that. I…probably should have been more…conscious of that fact.”

“I-It’s fine, Phoenix. I wouldn’t expect you to…to—well, anyway, I…I suppose,” Miles sighed. “I still hate to think I neglected your attempts to reach me simply because I relate them to…those memories of that time. You had nothing to do with it, and I should have been able to separate the bad memories from the good.” 

“Maybe, but—our minds aren’t the most logical things even, when you want them to be,” Phoenix offered.       

Miles huffed. 

“I suppose,” Miles relented. “Regardless…of all of that I’m…I’m glad you’re here with me now,” Miles said softly, glancing over at Phoenix with a shy, flushed expression.

“Miles…I…” Phoenix trailed off. He wanted to say so many things. That he had already forgiven him, that it didn’t matter, it only mattered that they were here together now…that he would cherish this time they’ve had together this holiday…that he loved him— he loved everything about him—

He couldn’t articulate any of those feelings out loud, so instead, he simply asked, “Can I kiss you?” 

Miles wordlessly nodded and turned toward Phoenix as Phoenix leaned in and sealed their lips together. Phoenix could feel Miles’s warm breath on his cold skin. There was a subtle taste of the spices from the mulled wine. Phoenix didn’t want to pull away—he wanted to melt into the kiss and never come out of it. Miles pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, but eagerly returned to kiss him again. Their teeth knocked awkwardly together, and Phoenix giggled to himself as Miles shyly tried to pull away, embarrassed by his blunder.

“S’okay,” Phoenix murmured, pulling him back and kissing him again, and Miles hesitantly reciprocated, anxious about making the same mistake. 

Phoenix leaned further into the kiss and his hand returned to Miles’s thigh and his thumb rubbing gently along the top of his knee. That seemed to reassure Miles, who readily melted back into the kiss. He also fell closer into Phoenix’s personal space, his arm coming to land on Phoenix’s lower back. 

In a flash, they were interrupted. Franziska had returned and cleared her throat. 

“O-Oh,” Phoenix pulled away, blushing brightly. 

“You must be feeling better, Phoenix Wright,” she asked, folding her arms across her chest.

“Hah, yeah, I guess I am,” Phoenix replied, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry.” 

“Franziska!” Miles huffed, flushed and looking embarrassed that Franziska had seen them like that. 

For someone who insisted that they needed to sell their relationship, Miles was doing a fine job reacting as if their relationship was real, Phoenix thought to himself.

“Did you find something to bring to your father?” Phoenix asked innocently, hoping to distract them all from the awkward tension. 

“I think so,” Franziska said, glancing down at the small paper-wrapped box in her hands. 

“Did you find what I requested?” Miles asked stiffly. 

“Yes, there was a stall down that way—to the right—that had them,” Franziska replied with a tedious tone. “There weren’t many interesting ones, so you may want to look at others just to see.” 

“That will be good enough to start with, thank you,” Miles said.

“Wait, Miles, what are you looking for?” Phoenix asked with a frown, feeling as if he’d missed something.

“Come on,” Miles huffed with a small smile, reaching for Phoenix’s hand and tugging him away towards the booths. 

Phoenix happily followed along. Miles conferred with Franziska as they made their way through the crowds. Eventually, they stopped at a stall with beautifully embroidered fabrics and lace. Phoenix was impressed by the artistry of the art pieces, cloth napkins, and tablecloths. Most of them were festive patterns, but there were other patterns and colors as well. A small corner of the booth had customized handkerchiefs. There was some sign advertising a deal.

Miles sifted through the options available. Phoenix wondered if there was a specific pattern or color he was looking for. He grabbed a few options and turned to Phoenix.  

“Which initial do you prefer? Would you like the ‘P’ or the ‘W’? Perhaps both? If I’d had the forethought, I could have had one custom-made to include both of them,” Miles offered.

“Wait…what?” Phoenix asked, blinking in confusion.

“It’s a straightforward question, Phoenix Wright,” Franziska sighed, seeming bored. 

“Why? Huh?” Phoenix asked, looking back to Miles. 

“I’m purchasing you a gift, dear,” Miles explained.

“Miles,” Phoenix muttered. “You already bought me so much, you don’t need to get me anything else.” 

“This is for my own benefit, not yours,” Miles insisted. “So the next time you’re blubbering all over me, you’ll have your own handkerchief.” 

“Miles!” Phoenix hissed, his face flushing brightly. 

“Is he really that much of a crybaby?” Franziska asked as he handed Phoenix the options. Miles continued to look through the options.

“You have no idea,” Miles muttered, and Franziska giggled. “Shall we get you one of each?”

“No,” Phoenix muttered, shaking his head. 

“I like the colors of the ‘W’ handkerchief,” Franziska offered. It had yellow and green embellishments with teal floral patterns.

“I’m getting you at least one of them,” Miles insisted. “I think I’m partial to the darker colors of the ‘P’ handkerchief.”

“Okay, if you insist,” Phoenix groaned. “Yeah, I like the ‘P’ one,” he said, reaching for the handkerchief with navy blue patterns with maroon accents interwoven through the motif.

After purchasing the handkerchief, Phoenix tucked it away safely in his pocket. Checking the time, they realized they should return to the train station since their train would depart within the hour. 

x

On the ride home, Phoenix was the one who fell asleep. The quiet train compartment and the dark windows quickly lulled him to sleep after their long day. 

“I trust you had a good time today at the market?” Miles asked Franziska quietly over the sound of Phoenix’s soft snores.

She looked up, taken off guard by the question. 

“Yes, I suppose I did,” Franziska admitted. “I didn’t know if I would with Papa not coming with us…I thought I’d be stuck babysitting you two all day.”

“Did you not?” Miles asked with an amused look on his face. “It certainly felt like it.” 

“Well…you know what I mean. Babysitting without having any fun,” Franziska admitted. 

“I’m glad you still managed to have fun, even though your father didn’t accompany us,” Miles replied. “I think Phoenix certainly had a good time, too.” 

“And you, Miles Edgeworth?” Franziska asked. 

“Yes,” Miles sighed, letting his shoulders relax as Phoenix’s head slid onto Miles’s shoulders. “I had a wonderful time.” Miles leaned in slightly to better accommodate Phoenix’s sleeping position. 

“I still don’t think I understand all this,” Franziska said, gesturing to Phoenix slightly. 

Miles was too exhausted to argue with her about his relationship with Phoenix.

“But I hope you know that you can bring him next year to Christmas too, whatever he is to you,” Franziska finished her thought. 

Miles’s stomach churned at the offer. He was so pleased that Franziska was giving them her blessing and that she seemed to genuinely enjoy her time with Phoenix, as well. 

But he wasn’t sure if he could continue this another year. It was dangerous. Having Phoenix be this close to him…it was scary. It was the closest he’d allowed someone in a very long time. 

If he allowed this to continue, there’s no telling what he could end up regretting. There was no universe in which Phoenix learned the whole truth about his father’s death and still wanted to…wanted to be associated with him—someone who’d most likely murdered his own father. 

This was a complete disaster. 

He’d only brought this on himself. If only he’d been able to suck it up and visit without a crutch, he wouldn’t be stuck with these…unnecessary feelings. 

He could see why people potentially craved this kind of domestic partnership, but Miles had written off that possibility long ago. His life was only to be dedicated to bringing criminals to justice. Miles didn’t deserve this kind of life. Not after what he’d done. 

Desperately, he tried to pull himself out of his mental nosedive. 

He and Franziska settled into a companionable silence as she opened her book to begin reading. Miles leaned into Phoenix’s warm weight on his shoulder and closed his eyes. He could enjoy it while it lasted. Then, after this week…it would have to end.

x

It was just before midnight when they returned to the von Karma manor. 

After a silent “goodnight,” they went their separate ways, and Phoenix followed behind Miles back towards their shared bedroom. They were exhausted and remained silent as they got ready for bed. Miles set his alarm for the following day and wished Phoenix a good night before he collapsed into bed. 

Phoenix was tired, but his mind wouldn’t slow down from earlier, even though he was exhausted from being out in the cold all day. His nap on the train hadn’t helped wind him down for bed either. He took his time setting up his futon on the floor and getting ready for bed, but once that was all done, he sat on his futon a bit and stared into space for a few moments. 

He heard a soft snore from the bed, and Phoenix looked up to see Miles already fast asleep. Phoenix smiled softly and resisted the urge to lean over and kiss him on the forehead lest he wake him up from much-needed rest. 

Phoenix got up and headed to the bathroom to see if that would distract his mind and settle him down a bit. Once he had relieved himself, washed his face, and brushed his teeth, he returned to their room to settle in for the night. Before he could get too comfortable, he realized he was pretty thirsty. 

After he put his things away, he glanced at Miles and knew he couldn’t wake him up. Phoenix was pretty sure that he could find his way to the kitchen, and from there, it couldn’t be hard to find a glass to fill with water. 

He dug through his luggage to pull out his pink sweater. It would protect him against the manor's drafty corridors, and Miles wasn’t awake to tease him about it. The sweater was still warm and comfortable, regardless of what Miles said. 

He couldn’t imagine actually getting rid of the sweater. Sure, it was a memory of a terrible relationship, but…it was a perfectly functional piece of clothing.

Well…maybe he didn’t want to get rid of it because he had difficulty getting rid of anything anyway. He had grown up bouncing between foster homes before eventually aging out of the system. He didn’t have a lot of belongings growing up. And to have a piece of clothing so lovingly made for him… 

Well, no, not lovingly…but…augh, everything still felt so messed up when he thought about Dollie—Dahlia. 

She had tried to murder him and when that didn’t work, she had tried to frame him. But he couldn’t shake the memory of Dahlia presenting the sweater to him. She was so sweet…whenever she’d make lunches for him, or they’d spend evenings together, just the two of them…    

He didn’t want to forget those times. Maybe it was unhealthy to hold onto those memories and those gifts, but…they were still part of him—part of his history.   

Phoenix decided he could sort through these feelings later. 

Hesitantly, he started down the hallway, keeping his eyes peeled. He felt as if von Karma could appear from any corner and chastise him for wandering around the manor without a chaperone.  

Phoenix finally found his way to the kitchen and luckily found a glass to use before going to the faucet and filling it with water. He took a long drink before he topped off the glass. But when he left the kitchen, his sense of direction began to fail him. He wasn’t quite sure where he was and felt like he had turned down the wrong hallway before walking by a cracked open door with someone inside. 

Warm light spilled out into the hallway.

Peeking inside, Phoenix’s gaze met von Karma’s, and for a split moment, his body screamed at him to retreat, but instead, he stood frozen in fear. 

“Yes?” von Karma finally drawled in his chilling, quiet voice. “May I help you?”

“A-Ah, I—erm—oh—s-sorry, I’ll just—” Phoenix stammered, his feet still firmly planted on the ground. 

“Come in, Mr. Wright. I’ve wished to speak with you one-on-one regardless,” von Karma sighed. Phoenix felt his stomach drop. 

What?

“O-Oh, yes, sir,” Phoenix stammered, his entire body trembling as he pushed the door open. He found himself standing in Manfred von Karma’s impressive home office in nothing but his sleep clothes—his pink sweater and boxers with a glass of water in his hand. “W-What did you wish to talk to me about?”

Von Karma eyed him warily, his gaze lingering on the offensively bright pink sweater. 

“Please, take a seat,” Manfred stood from the chair behind his desk, gesturing to the seats across from his desk.

Phoenix shakily stepped forward, stood behind one of the leather armchairs before Manfred’s impressive desk, and looked for permission before sitting down. He’d never felt more underdressed in his entire life, which was impressive considering the number of times he felt out of his depths just this week. 

“Wh-What is it?” Phoenix asked, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. He wasn't sure if it was from fear or if he was chilly in the drafty manor. 

“I wanted to talk to you about your relationship with Miles Edgeworth,” von Karma said, his eyes idly returning to the paperwork on his desk. Phoenix spotted a small box sitting among unwrapped brown paper. Phoenix wondered if it was the present Franziska had gotten him. He couldn’t tell what it was.

“Y-Yes, sir?” Phoenix nodded, acknowledging that he was listening, but his heart was pounding. 

Surely Franziska hadn’t given him the gift and then told him about having a false relationship simply to mess with them, had she? Or had von Karma worked it out on his own? How?

“I wanted to say—I don’t approve of this relationship of yours,” von Karma said with a sigh as he looked back up from his files and folded his hands in front of him. 

Phoenix’s mind went blank, and for a brief moment, his mind flashed to the worst-case scenario where von Karma was actually incredibly homophobic and was about to do something like killing him for his supposed relationship with Miles. 

He shook himself from those thoughts.

No. Von Karma was a man who upheld the law and a famous prosecutor…so Phoenix wasn’t sure where that intrusive thought came from. Von Karma wasn’t a killer despite how scary he seemed. 

“It’s not for the reason you suspect,” von Karma sighed as if he could sense the fear radiating from Phoenix. 

“O-Oh?” Phoenix eeked out, suddenly terrified the other man could read minds. 

“Miles Edgeworth has a very promising prosecuting career in America, and it wouldn’t do to have him distracted by something like this—” von Karma gestured to all of Phoenix sitting in front of him. “I’ve seen how he’s acted this week...he’s changed since he began seeing you. I don’t want it to make him soft. He could easily become complacent and lose his edge if this continues.” 

He’s changed? Was it just the act that Miles had been putting on? Or was there something else that von Karma was talking about? How on earth would this impact Miles’s career as a prosecutor? It made no sense. 

Phoenix continued to sit and stare, unsure what he could say in response before finally, the words seemed to reach his mouth. 

“I-I understand, sir, and I don’t mean to be a distraction. In fact, I intend to be the opposite,” Phoenix offered before he could think it over any further.

Von Karma furrowed his brow in confusion, waiting for Phoenix to elaborate. 

“I’m—I’m actually studying law at school,” Phoenix started, steeling his expression into what he hoped was something intimidating.

“I beg your pardon? Miles said you were studying art,” von Karma interjected, looking bewildered. 

“Well, I was. Until I switched majors to become a defense attorney, sir,” Phoenix replied, some confidence seeping into his voice. He wasn’t sure where that confidence had come from, but he was glad his voice wasn’t shaking.

“Ah, well—” von Karma said, suddenly seeming to be at a loss for words. “I…I knew there was a reason I didn’t like you.” 

“The feeling is mutual, sir, ” Phoenix blurted out.

“Hmph. Because I’m a prosecutor?” von Karma asked. “If you hold such disdain for prosecutors, why on Earth did you pursue Miles?”

How much did Phoenix really want to reveal to von Karma?

“I intend to save him,” Phoenix said firmly.

“From what, may I ask?” von Karma asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“From…this. This life you’ve built for him. He’s…miserable. He won’t admit it, but—” 

How much did Phoenix believe this? He was just saying things that he’d felt over the past week.

“Absolute nonsense,” von Karma scoffed. “He’s brilliant and was meant to be a prosecutor. I won’t have some…some fruity—boytoy pull him off his path.”

“This isn’t his path,” Phoenix argued, ignoring von Karma’s insult. “He wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps, sir,” he said more forcefully.

“Oh, I’m well aware. Gregory Edgeworth was my rival in court, and the dratted man marred my perfect record,” von Karma hissed. 

“Well, I intend to be Miles’s rival,” Phoenix explained.

“Despite the fact that you…have feelings for him?” von Karma all but growled.

Phoenix startled for a moment, panicking about von Karma being able to read his deepest, most inner thoughts and feelings. He quickly snapped back into reality, remembering the whole reason he was here was to distract von Karma with the lie about them dating.

“...Yes, actually,” Phoenix finally confirmed.

Von Karma pursed his lips briefly, eying Phoenix. 

“You are going to be a problem, aren’t you…?” von Karma said with a slight upward turn of his lips. Almost as if…the idea entertained him.

“As I said, I don’t intend to be a problem,” Phoenix said. “I intend to be a solution.” 

Von Karma sighed, leaning back in his seat. 

“Selfish brat,” von Karma muttered. “If you do become an attorney…perhaps one day we’ll face off in court, and I’ll show you how wrong you truly are…”   

“I look forward to it,” Phoenix said with a nod.  

“You’re dismissed,” von Karma said with a flourish of his hand, indicating he no longer wanted to have this conversation.

Phoenix stood up and left the office as quickly as he could without it looking as if he were fleeing. Hurrying back the way he came, it took him a few more attempts to find his way back to the bedroom. 

He quietly let himself into the room and caught his breath as he catapulted himself onto his futon. Phoenix shed his sweater and buried himself under the blankets. His heart was beating furiously, and he wondered if he’d ever be able to fall asleep. 

That was certainly the last thing he’d expected to endure that evening. As he replayed the conversation in his head, he couldn’t believe what he’d said to von Karma. Where had that part of him come from? The observations on their relationship from von Karma was…Phoenix didn’t even know what to think about them. 

Was this relationship, whatever it was, really only a distraction to Miles?

What was their relationship, anyway? Tonight had definitely changed something, but Phoenix couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Was that where his confidence had come from when von Karma asked them about their relationship?

There were too many thoughts swirling around Phoenix’s mind. He could feel a headache coming on. Phoenix glanced over to the bed where Miles was fast asleep. Sleeping in the same bed the night before had been so lovely. He wanted to abandon his futon again and crawl right up next to Miles, especially after the encounter he’d just had. But he didn’t want to disturb the sleep Miles was finally getting. He sighed and got settled once again, closing his eyes, praying for sleep to find him.

Chapter Text

Phoenix Wright woke the following day after a blissfully dreamless night. It seemed as if he were finally getting adjusted to sleeping there in Germany. Or perhaps he had just been too tired for his brain to remember any of his dreams. 

He rolled over on his futon and sat up, peeking up at Miles, who was still asleep. Phoenix sighed and lay down again, wondering what they had in store for today. It had seemed as if Franziska and Miles had talked a bit about their plans for today on the train ride home the night before. 

Phoenix recalled that a trip to Paris had been discussed, and he hoped they would at least have today to recover from traveling before they had to be on the move again. Excitement thrummed within his body, but so did the heavy exhaustion. 

It was only another half an hour before Miles’s alarm began to go off and wake him up. Phoenix looked up again.

“Good morning,” Phoenix called softly as Miles rolled over to turn the alarm off. 

Miles responded with an incoherent grumble, which Phoenix could only interpret as a response. At least it didn’t seem as if Miles was in a rush this morning, so Phoenix sighed in relief as he reclined back onto his futon and closed his eyes. 

After another five minutes or so, Miles seemed to wake up a little more. Finally, he sat up in bed. 

“How did you sleep?” Miles asked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. 

“Not bad,” Phoenix said. He didn’t dare tell Miles about his conversation with von Karma the night before. “I was exhausted after yesterday…how about you?” Phoenix returned the question.

“Yeah. Same,” Miles agreed. 

Phoenix rolled out of his futon and folded his legs beneath him as he began to pack it up.

“What are we doing today?” Phoenix asked. “Do we have plans?”

“Ah, Franziska offered for us to observe von Karma in court, and we’ll go out afterward for lunch,” Miles replied quietly. “The case he was working on yesterday will be at trial today.” 

There was a beat of silence that hung in the air. 

“Ah, right,” Phoenix agreed stiffly. “I guess it’ll be interesting to see how the courts here in Germany work.” 

Phoenix thought about his encounter with the man the night before and tried to shake his feeling of dread. Seeing the man who trained the supposed demon prosecutor of the LA courtrooms intrigued…and terrified Phoenix.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen him at work,” Miles said softly, almost to himself. 

“So, you’re hoping for a refresher in von Karma perfection?” Phoenix asked with a tinge of bitterness in his voice. 

“I…” Miles started, but his voice quickly died in his throat. “If you don’t want to go, I can beg off. We can do something else,” Miles offered quickly. If Phoenix wasn’t mistaken, Miles's voice had almost a shade of hopefulness to it.

Phoenix was silent for a moment. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go…but something about it all made Phoenix anxious. Miles seemed apprehensive as well. 

Phoenix sighed.

“Well, do you think von Karma will be upset if you back out of something like this?” Phoenix asked. “Or at least…will Franziska be disappointed if we don’t go?” 

“I suppose so, yes,” Miles sighed quietly, gently rubbing his temples as if trying to stave off a headache.

“What is it?” Phoenix asked with a furrowed brow. 

“I just…we’ve had such a good time this week without being…interrupted by von Karma. I’m worried that if we go and spend the day with him…” Miles trailed off.

Phoenix could sense the underlying worry: I don’t want it to ruin the way things are.

Steeling himself, Phoenix squared his shoulders.

“Hey, it can’t be that bad, huh?” Phoenix assured him. He was still feeling just as nervous, but tried to put a brave face on to cheer Miles up a bit. “Maybe it’ll give us more opportunities to gross him out when we’re out together afterward or something, right?” 

Miles finally allowed a smile to creep across his lips. 

“It’s true. We haven’t had enough time with him to show off our ‘relationship,’ hm?” Miles chuckled weakly. The weight of the conversation began to dissipate.

“So, do you want to bet whether Franziska will defend or antagonize us today?” Phoenix said with a smirk, trying to distract Miles.

“Oh, antagonize, absolutely,” Miles quickly retorted. “In front of her father? She’ll want to show off how much she also disagrees with everything about us.” 

“That’s too bad,” Phoenix remarked. “I had so much fun with her yesterday. It was nice when she wasn’t so…hostile.”

“I know,” Miles replied with a sad smile. “Maybe we’ll get that side of her again a little bit before we leave. We have our trip to Paris without von Karma after all,” Miles said. 

“Oh, right!” Phoenix said, lighting up at the prospect of having that alone time with Miles and Franziska again. “So…von Karma won’t be with us then either?”

“No…I talked with Franziska about it yesterday on the way home. Von Karma believes he’ll still be weighed down with work and doesn’t wish to leave the country. On top of that, last-minute accommodations were hard to come by, supposedly. Franziska said the best she could get was one small room near the train station in Paris.”

“Ah, I suppose that makes sense.” Phoenix nodded. “Was she disappointed about her father being unable to join us then?”

“Only a little…I think, after how much she enjoyed yesterday at the market with us, she might just be looking forward to spending more time with just the two of us,” Miles said. His expression and tone almost seemed a little proud. Proud and relieved. Phoenix felt warm knowing that Miles was happy about how everything had been going.

“All right, if you’re ready—let’s head down to breakfast,” Miles said, taking Phoenix’s hand. Phoenix nodded in agreement. 

x

Breakfast was swift, and von Karma didn’t show up. Phoenix wasn’t sure if it was usual for him to join them on trial days. It was quiet except for the sounds of silverware against the china plates. Once they were finished, Franziska led them both out to the car that was waiting out front. Von Karma was already inside, looking over his documents to prepare for the case. 

“Good morning, sir,” Miles greeted quietly. 

“I was about to leave without you,” von Karma said with a slight sneer. 

“Sorry, Papa. They were being dreadfully slow at breakfast,” Franziska sighed. Phoenix’s stomach twisted. It felt like they were already starting the day poorly, and nothing within their control had even happened yet. 

Miles and Phoenix exchanged a subtle look, the interaction harkening back to their conversation that morning. So…antagonistic it was going to be. Miles placed a hand on Phoenix’s knee, reassuringly.

It was a quiet, short drive to the courthouse—only twenty minutes into the city, and to the grand courthouse that awaited them.

When they arrived at the courthouse, Mikael got out and opened the door for them. 

They entered the courthouse and parted ways with von Karma. Franziska led them toward the gallery viewing area while von Karma went to the Prosecution Lobby. 

“Have you helped him much on this case?” Miles asked Franziska conversationally once von Karma was out of earshot. 

“Not as much as I usually do, since we were gone all day yesterday,” Franziska explained. “But I know the basic facts.” 

“Well? Let’s hear it then,” Miles prompted. “Your report on the case.” 

Phoenix smiled to himself, noting how proud she seemed that Miles was asking her perspective on the case.

She began to cover the primary information from the case: the crime—murder, double homicide. The victims were a man and a woman—a couple, and the defendant was a man who was close to both victims. The defendant was the one who discovered the bodies on Christmas Eve, just after a big family gathering. The motive that had been posited was jealousy and, potentially, an affair.

Phoenix wondered what the defendant was like. Was he a jealous, anger-fueled heathen? Or was he simply a good friend who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time under the wrong circumstances? 

Just like Phoenix had been…there had even been the question of jealousy during his own trial…

He had a sinking feeling that this trial might be harder to watch than Phoenix had hoped. A small part of him hoped it was open-and-shut with no room for doubt that the defendant perpetrated the crime. 

The court was called to order, and the defendant was led into the courtroom once von Karma and the defense attorney had taken their places behind their respective benches.   

Phoenix was desperate to get a good look at the defendant after Franziska had described the crime. The man looked…positively meek. He was handsome enough, but had a thin frame. He wore glasses, and freckles were sprinkled across his face with dark sandy hair. 

Phoenix frowned. Well, it would be interesting to see what the prosecution would try to argue. 

The Judge called the court to session, and von Karma gave his opening statement.

Phoenix quickly realized he would have an even worse time keeping up with this trial than he had realized. It would be all in German…and the only way he’d know what was going on was if Miles translated for him.

Maybe it’d be for the best…Phoenix wondered if not knowing what was happening would make things any easier to bear. 

Miles began translating what he could to Phoenix as the trial got underway, but it was difficult without disrupting the others in the gallery. After a few sharp looks from others in the gallery, Miles stopped translating, and all Phoenix had to go off of was body language and tone of voice. 

Phoenix’s eyes were continuously drawn to the defendant, who looked more distraught and desperate as the proceedings continued. Panic welled in the pit of Phoenix’s stomach, feeling an awful connection with the man in the defendant’s seat.

Miles pulled out a leatherbound notebook and opened it to a blank page as he nudged Phoenix. Phoenix looked over and saw that Miles was making notes. The notes were in English—it seemed as if Miles was still determined to keep Phoenix up to speed with what was happening, even if he couldn’t understand. 

Phoenix smiled, happy that Miles was trying so hard to keep him in the loop. He caught Franziska looking over at her, and she rolled her eyes at the two of them. He ignored her and looked back at Miles’s handwriting:

Couple murdered (shot) after holiday party for their families. 

Gun found at the scene

Guest list examined - mostly the female victim’s family. 

Defendant not invited, but was close with the victims.

Found in their home hours after the party (Defendant found them.)

Claims to have been invited after the guests left to help clean up and consume any food and drink left over.

Has key to house that was used when no one answered, where he found them both killed.

Phoenix tapped Miles’s knee and gestured for him to hand the pen over. The notes were good, but Phoenix still felt he was missing context and wanted to know specifics, especially as the defendant took the stand to provide testimony.

Miles handed the pen to Phoenix, then turned to the back of his notepad to tear out a page and give it to Phoenix. Phoenix took the page and wrote down his question: 

Fingerprints on gun?

Miles grabbed the pen back to reply to the question on a new line on the sheet he had been using previously.

Yes, the defendant claims it happened when he first came across the scene. He moved the gun out of the way without thinking when going to check their pulses.

Phoenix gestured for the pen again, writing on his own paper.

Motive - Just jealousy? Affair?

He handed the pen back to Miles.

Hold on—

Miles wrote down and glanced at Phoenix before returning his attention to the defendant. Miles’s fingers began to twitch before he started writing again.

Says that he had dated both victims at one point, but claims he was not jealous + he was happy for them/they were on good terms.

Phoenix frowned, looking down at the defendant, listening to von Karma rattling off arguments in German. The man was pale as a sheet and trembling. He didn’t seem angry or satisfied in any way that suggested he was lying about being jealous or not.

After a bit more back-and-forth, the man left the stand, and another witness was called. It was a woman about the same age as the defendant. Phoenix looked back at Miles as the woman began to answer the opening questions. 

Cousin of male victim. Works at a tech agency. Was at the party before the killing.

Phoenix turned his attention back to the woman for a moment. She seemed composed and determined. Von Karma asked the woman a question, and a ripple of murmurs went through the courtroom. Phoenix turned back to Miles, waiting for translation.

Says she didn’t care for her cousin’s wife

Phoenix reached for the pen and scribbled down:

Relationship with her cousin? Strained?

Miles waited momentarily while listening to the woman on the stand before writing his answer.

Is devastated about his death, and says she got on really well with him

There were more questions and answers as Miles continued to write down testimony.

Had talked to him that night and the victim had confided in her and showed her texts between him and the defendant arguing about something.

The defendant looked scared and confused by her testimony, and Phoenix glanced back down at Miles’s page as he continued to write:

The defendant had a pocket watch that belonged to the man’s family as a gift from when they were dating… after they broke up the victim let the defendant keep the watch … the watch is worth money, and the victim wanted it back - Instead of giving it back she insists that he killed them.

The defense lawyer objected and asked the defendant a question. Before the defendant could respond, von Karma replied. The defense lawyer balked at whatever answer von Karma had given. It sounded like a monetary value. 

Phoenix reached for the pen again. 

How much money?

He handed it back and Miles promptly wrote down: 

Unclear  - estimate from von Karma is €50k

Phoenix furrowed his brows, grabbing for the pen again.

Does that man look like someone who could murder two friends over €50k??

The defense lawyer raised another objection, and Phoenix hoped it was similar to what he had just posited to Miles as Phoenix handed back the pen. Miles took it and simply wrote one word:

Maybe

Phoenix frowned at Miles. Miles shrugged as if he didn’t have an opinion one way or the other. 

As the defense lawyer pleaded his case, von Karma quickly replied, and Phoenix’s stomach sank.

The man on trial didn’t seem capable of what he was accused of—and Miles couldn’t see that?

This was von Karma perfection, Phoenix supposed. Perfect evidence, perfect witness testimony…

He couldn’t take any more of this. Phoenix stood up from where he was sitting and told Miles he needed to go to the restroom. Phoenix left the gallery and went to sit on a bench in the empty hallway. He tried to regulate his breathing and his emotions, but it was difficult. 

Was this really who Miles strived to be? This was who Franziska idolized? Who she wanted to emulate? Blindly convicting whoever sits in the defendant’s chair, no matter what?

It hurt. The idea of it hurt all over. 

Phoenix remembered when he had been in court with Mia defending him. He wondered what would have happened if Miles had been assigned his case then. Phoenix had hoped that maybe Miles would have given him a chance. But Phoenix wasn’t so sure anymore.

He realized that Miles would have pursued prosecuting him—otherwise, Phoenix would have become another failure for von Karma to berate him about. 

Another Christmas of uncomfortable conversations for Miles, while Phoenix was put behind bars for a crime he didn’t commit.

He could feel the tears bubbling up in his throat, and he began to panic. He couldn’t cry—not here. But despair flooded his thoughts. Would Phoenix even be able to help Miles after he got his law degree? Or was it hopeless? What would happen the moment Miles stepped into the courtroom? 

Phoenix had no idea. He’d never actually seen him prosecute before. 

Phoenix took another shuddering breath. Spending a couple of days with Phoenix wouldn’t change a thing. People didn’t change overnight like that. Everything that had happened that week…was it all just Miles putting on a show and coddling Phoenix into thinking he was a good man? Phoenix felt sick. 

The door to the courtroom gallery opened, and there was a crescendo of voices. They died down again when the door closed. Phoenix glanced up to see Miles looking up and down the hallway before spotting Phoenix and hurrying over to him. 

“Wright, are you okay?” Miles asked. “The judge called a recess, and you hadn’t come back…”

“Sorry, just a little overwhelmed,” Phoenix said tightly. He couldn’t voice all the doubts that had assailed him, but he still felt his stomach churning unpleasantly. 

“The case?” Miles asked. “Aren’t you going into criminal justice for your law degree?” Miles asked coolly. “If this is overwhelming, you may want to reconsider your chosen career path.” He gave a small chuckle, trying to lighten the atmosphere, but it soured Phoenix even more. 

When Phoenix’s mood didn’t change, Miles’s face fell as if realizing just how upset Phoenix was. 

“Wright…” Miles sighed, his voice growing quiet. “Come on, what’s wrong? Is it not being able to understand anything? I’ll try to make my handwriting a little neater—” 

“No, it’s not that—it’s…do you really think the defendant is guilty?” Phoenix asked, staring down at his clasped hands.

“Of course he is,” Miles replied automatically. “He had a motive, a window of opportunity—not to mention his fingerprints are on the gun.”

“By mistake,” Phoenix interjected. 

Miles flinched but looked furious.

“According to him,” Miles argued. “He could be lying. A criminal isn’t going to stand trial and say that he purposefully left prints on the gun.”

“Yes, but mistakes do happen,” Phoenix rebuked. “Especially when caught up in a criminal act you had nothing to do with. Shock does things to the mind and body. Do you have proof that it wasn’t by mistake?”

Miles opened his mouth but before he could say anything, Phoenix cut him off. 

“Sorry, does von Karma have proof that it wasn’t by mistake?” Phoenix snapped, knowing that Miles would protest that he wasn’t even on the case, how on earth would he have proof?

“You really think the defendant in there isn’t guilty?”

“I dunno,” Phoenix admitted. “It just doesn’t feel right.” 

“Well…I suppose this is why you’re studying to become a defense lawyer. The naivete in believing every defendant is innocent…” Miles sighed, sounding slightly exasperated. 

“What about the willful ignorance of believing every defendant is guilty!?” Phoenix snarled, getting to his feet. 

Miles took a step back, flinching again as he looked around to see if they were drawing attention to themselves. Luckily, the hallway was relatively deserted. The nearest passerby was a severe-looking woman boredly waiting for an elevator near the end of the hallway.

When Phoenix realized how much he had physically reacted, he took a step back and clenched his fists at his side before continuing.

“What about critical thinking to eliminate every alternative to the story the detectives give you?” Phoenix retorted in a quieter voice.

“I trust the detectives to do their job properly. Whatever they present is what they came to after investigating the crime scene thoroughly and interviewing all the suspects,” Miles countered. 

“So, that’s it? You trust the detectives, and surely they’re never wrong, hm?” Phoenix replied as the heat began to rise in his voice again. “You don’t stop and think—for a single moment—for yourself?”

“Wh—of course, I do! I’m the one who oversees the investigations and autopsies to ensure everything is done correctly,” Miles argued. 

“Correctly,” Phoenix scoffed. “You mean to make sure everything lines up to convict the defendant. And if there’s anything inconvenient in the evidence or autopsy, you ensure it’s swept under the rug to keep the truth a secret—”

“Wright—” Miles muttered.

“—to keep your win record up. To ensure there are no embarrassments later for von Karma to harass you about,” Phoenix hissed, gesturing towards the courtroom where the von Karmas were.

“Phoenix—” Miles said a little more forcefully.  

“Tell me the truth, Miles,” Phoenix started, his voice going cold. “If you had been the prosecutor on my case, would you have tried to convict me?” Phoenix asked. “Would you have even considered that I was not guilty?” 

He was pleading with Miles to prove his gut instinct wrong. Phoenix desperately wanted to be wrong, and for Miles to assure him that he would have chased the truth and exonerated him, but…

Miles stared at him with wide eyes, his mouth gaping open and stunned into silence. 

“Is that what this is about?” Miles finally asked instead of answering the question.

“Answer the damn question, Miles,” Phoenix hissed. “If the detectives in my case came to you and presented you with the evidence that pointed to me, would you have questioned their findings even for a moment?” Phoenix asked. 

“I…” Miles choked on his words, completely taken aback by Phoenix’s question. “Phoenix…I…” 

The hesitation was all the answer Phoenix needed. He turned on his heel and rubbed at his eyes as tears threatened to fall.

Before Miles could decide what to do, there was an announcement that the court would be reconvening. 

Dejectedly, Miles slowly turned and headed back towards the entrance to the gallery. 

They both needed time to cool off, and if Franziska or von Karma noticed that they both missed the last half of the trial, Miles would never hear the end of it. 

x

Phoenix wasn’t sure where he was going, but he couldn’t bear to look at Miles and listen to him defend their perfect prosecution. He knew he couldn’t go far—he didn’t have a means of transportation, he didn’t speak the language, and he was effectively trapped there at the courthouse. 

He looked over his shoulder, marginally hoping Miles had chased after him, but no one was there. Phoenix supposed it was probably for the best that he hadn’t; he didn’t want things to escalate even further. 

The claustrophobia of the situation was starting to set into Phoenix’s body. Desperately, he headed for the exit of the courthouse. Maybe some fresh air would do him well. He approached the grand entryway of the impressive courthouse and slipped out the front doors. He headed towards the courtyard next to the courthouse. It was quiet enough because of the cold and the holidays. There, he found a bench under a bare winter tree.  

He was beginning to feel the chill creep into his bones. But at the moment, he didn’t care. He felt like his body was on fire from the adrenaline and anger. The rest of this trip was going to be a fucking nightmare. How could he face Miles after that? Maybe he could look into getting a flight earlier. Miles could tell the von Karmas that they’d broken up, and that would take care of the years to come. 

Phoenix groaned.

No, he couldn’t do that. He was going to have to suffer through it somehow. At least he could see his commitment through to the end. 

But the moment he set foot back in Los Angeles, Phoenix was going to study even harder.

The sooner he became a lawyer, the sooner he could face off against Miles and the sooner he could save Miles from this stupid, perfect legacy—save him from himself. 

If Miles could even be saved at this point, Phoenix thought bitterly.

He still had to try. Despite everything going through his mind…he somehow still… loved Miles. And he hated it. 

This whole trip had only confirmed that Phoenix’s stupid grade school crush on Miles hadn’t gone anywhere. Instead of turning Phoenix off his stupid feelings for Miles, it only fanned the flames. 

Why couldn’t Miles see how stupid he was being? Why couldn’t he see the sense in Phoenix’s arguments? Maybe there had been a stupid hope in the depths of his heart that this trip would have been enough to sway Miles’s heart. 

Maybe he’d even step down from being a prosecutor…maybe he’d even join Phoenix in becoming a defense lawyer—just like Miles’s father had been. 

Phoenix sighed, dragging a hand down his face, trying to massage the scowl off of his face.

Things would be so much easier if Phoenix could completely detach himself from Miles. But he knew that he could never wholly forget about the man—the boy— who had defended him so long ago in that classroom trial…

And well, even if Miles ended up hating him…Phoenix still felt he needed to become a defense attorney—to thank the universe for bringing Mia into his life and make up for all the false indictments Miles and the von Karma legacy had caused. 

This was so stupid.

Phoenix wished he was able to tear out his goddamn bleeding heart, leave it behind, and never look back. 

He tried to stop the tears that were falling again. As he sobbed, he felt his face tingle numbly. Desperately, he sniffled and wiped away the tears as they came. It took a while to calm himself down and rid himself of the shuddering hiccups he’d given himself. 

Eventually, he began to shiver as all the heat he’d retained during their argument drained away. He really should have gone back inside by now, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up and return to the building. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there until he was interrupted.

“Wright…” a small voice called. 

Phoenix looked up and saw Miles approaching him. 

“What?” Phoenix snapped. 

“The, erm, trial is over,” Miles said, hesitantly. 

“Already, huh? Let me guess: the defendant’s verdict was ‘Guilty,’ wasn’t it?” Phoenix asked bitterly. 

“Well, yes,” Miles said, sounding a little stilted. He timidly approached the bench and sat down next to Phoenix. “After the recess, von Karma shared footage from the victims’ security system. It was very damning—and besides, I was doing an awful job translating. I couldn’t convey the complexity of some of von Karma’s arguments very well…”

“Miles, just—just, shut up,” Phoenix hissed. “I don’t want to hear it anymore. Where are the von Karmas?” he asked numbly. 

Miles gave a defeated sigh.

“Talking with some of the courthouse employees and filing the paperwork for the sentencing hearing,” Miles explained. 

Phoenix huffed and said nothing. 

“Phoenix…I’m—please, I don’t want to fight,” Miles said softly. 

Phoenix couldn’t find the words to respond. 

“I’m…I’m sorry that this wasn’t the day we’d hoped it’d be,” Miles continued. “But I think it’s good for you to see the realities of court now before finishing your degree.” 

“I have seen the realities of court,” Phoenix spat. “I’ve been at the mercy of the court, in case you’ve forgotten.” 

“I…I—yes, that’s right. I—Phoenix, listen, I wouldn’t have tried to convict you if I had prosecuted your case,” Miles said, trying to reassure Phoenix. Phoenix could tell that the words were just platitudes to calm him down.  It wasn’t working.

“Shut up, just shut the fuck up, Miles,” Phoenix hissed as he shook his head and turned away to wipe away the fresh tears. “You hesitated. You had to think about it,” Phoenix argued. “And now you’re just telling me what you think I want to hear.”

“Oh, for—You are infuriating,” Miles groaned as he let his head fall back and turned away from Phoenix slightly.

“ I’m the one who’s infuriating?” Phoenix barked.

“Yes, you are!” Miles rebuked, turning to the other man again and taking another step closer. “Weren’t you the one telling me the other day not to ruminate on ‘what ifs?’ Why am I suddenly on trial for something I haven’t done!?”

“Because I wanted to believe that deep down, you knew that you wouldn’t have prosecuted me for a crime I didn’t commit! But after today—”

“If you didn’t want to come and sit in on a trial, you should have just told me when I asked you,” Miles interrupted him.

“That’s not what this is about—” Phoenix said. 

“Right, yes, obviously it is,” Miles snapped. “You are still clearly dealing with everything that happened to you all those months ago. First, back on Christmas Eve, and now…now, you’re making it about me? If you knew that this was going to set you off like this, you should have said so, and I would have made sure that we didn’t come, von Karma be damned! And now I’m the one who’s the villain?”

“I…” Phoenix started but couldn’t provide an easy answer. “I didn’t—you…”

Miles’s phone began to ring. 

“Yes, what?” Miles answered. He stood still and listened to the voice on the other end of the line. “Yes, fine, we’ll be around to meet you shortly…mhm, I’ll see you soon.” 

He hung up, and Phoenix looked expectantly at Miles. 

“They’re done,” Miles said, tucking his phone away again. “We’re to meet them out in front of the courthouse. Mikael will be around shortly to pick us up.”

“Fine,” Phoenix sighed and stood from his spot on the bench. “Lead the way.” 

Miles turned on his heel and started walking back towards the courthouse. Phoenix shoved his hands in his pockets and sulked behind Miles. 

When they arrived at their predetermined meet-up spot, von Karma and Franziska were just leaving the courthouse. 

“Ah, there you are,” von Karma remarked. “I hope you enjoyed seeing a prosecutor work.” His eyes lingered on Phoenix with an arrogant look.

Phoenix wanted to spit in the man’s face, rip the stupid frills off his jacket, and stomp them into the snowmelt until they were filthy. He must have physically reacted because Miles reached out and grabbed a fistful of Phoenix’s jacket to hold him back. 

“We appreciated the opportunity, sir,” Miles answered for them, slightly bowing his head in respect. “It was inspiring to see you work again.”

Phoenix could nearly feel his blood boil. 

“Are you feeling sick again, Phoenix Wright?” Franziska asked earnestly, breaking the tension. “You look awful.”

“Yeah, a little bit,” Phoenix replied hoarsely, trying to keep his emotions in check. 

“Well, try and recover on our way to lunch,” von Karma insisted. His expression made Phoenix think the man knew exactly why he was unwell, which made Phoenix’s blood boil even hotter.

The car pulled up to the steps from the courthouse, and no more words were exchanged as Mikael got out and opened the door for them. 

Phoenix had desperately wished for the ride to be silent, but instead, Franziska and von Karma insisted on discussing the highlights of the case in perfect English for Phoenix’s benefit. He clenched his fists so tightly he hoped he wouldn’t draw blood on his palms. 

Miles tried to reach out and take hold of Phoenix’s hand, but Phoenix pulled away. Franziska’s gaze flickered their way with a confused frown, and Miles quickly diverted her attention by asking another question about the sentencing hearing, which had apparently been delayed because of the New Year holidays. 

The car ride seemed to last ages, but finally, they stopped in front of the shopping area they were going to. 

Phoenix lagged behind the group, not wanting to interact with any of them—including Miles. 

It seemed as if Miles was having difficulty regulating his pace to keep up with the von Karmas, while also trying to hang back enough to walk with Phoenix. It wasn’t as though Phoenix was making it easy, either. Phoenix would drift back or off to the side, depending on where Miles was. It was like having two opposing magnets pushing at each other. 

Eventually, von Karma realized they weren’t keeping up. He stopped and turned around to find them. Franziska only rolled her eyes at them. Miles quickly jumped to Phoenix’s side, who didn’t have enough time to dodge. 

“Apologies, Phoenix is still feeling a little ill. Why don’t you two get us a table at whichever restaurant you decide, and we’ll catch up?” Miles suggested.

“Very well,” von Karma sighed, not glancing at them. “Come, Franziska. Once we decide, you can text Miles and tell him where we end up.” 

The two continued as Miles forcibly moved Phoenix to a bench in the shopping center atrium. 

“Can you not do this in front of them?” Miles begged. 

“Sorry, I forgot you have to keep up appearances of being a good little prosecutor with a dumb boyfriend who cheers when you get innocent people convicted of crimes they didn’t commit,” Phoenix said piercingly.

“Oh, good lord,” Miles groaned. “You’re being insane,” Miles hissed. “You have no way of telling if that person was innocent. You couldn’t even understand what was being said! We were—von Karma was just doing his job. The evidence made a solid case that it was indeed the defendant.” 

“Doing his job is a nice way to put it. You can hide behind ‘doing your job’ all you want, but at the end of the day, you’re sentencing potentially innocent people to prison just to keep your numbers up. Do you have a conscience at all?”

“Listen, can we just get through this afternoon?” Miles pleaded. “We can talk about this later. Just— please don’t do this in front of them.” 

Phoenix wanted to retort and snidely comment about how their relationship looked to Miles’s adopted family. But Phoenix was growing weary, holding so much anger toward Miles. He simply rolled his eyes and agreed softly.   

“Whatever,” Phoenix agreed. He didn’t feel he could promise anything—if either Franziska or von Karma wanted to talk about the case anymore, or how Miles could learn from what they’d seen today…Phoenix was pretty sure he’d explode. 

“Thank you,” Miles sighed, taking that as confirmation enough. “I promise to keep our conversation elsewhere during lunch.”

“Fine…” 

“We…we just have to make it through today. We don’t have to interact with von Karma the rest of the week if you don’t want to. There’s still Franziska, but…if you want me to, I can try to convince her—” 

Phoenix sighed. It was irritating hearing Miles try to fix the situation. It was beyond repair.

“Just stop, Miles. It’s…whatever. I promise I’ll…I’ll behave,” Phoenix relented, rolling his eyes. 

“Thank you,” Miles breathed, sounding defeated. 

x

The rest of the afternoon was painful. Lunch skated by without an incident while Miles played a desperate game of defense to keep them from talking about the trial. Afterward, Franziska insisted that they go shopping, and Phoenix wanted to collapse and start crying. He couldn’t spend much more time with them without melting down. 

Luckily, Miles convinced them to cut the trip short since Phoenix still “wasn’t feeling well.” Franziska was understanding enough and agreed to get them back to the manor so Phoenix could recover.

The ride back to the manor was a blissfully silent one. 

When they returned, it was about 3 p.m.—several hours remained until dinner. Phoenix wanted to nap or at least retreat to their room, put on his headphones, and listen to music until they had to go down to dinner. 

They returned to their room, and Phoenix thoroughly ignored Miles. He went to unroll his futon and sprawled out on it as he reached for his headphones. Phoenix turned onto his side, staring at the wall, and Miles sighed as he changed out of his court attire and into something a little less formal for the afternoon. He silently slipped out of the room.

He could sense that Phoenix wanted nothing to do with him. Miles was glad for the break from trying to defend his entire existence. He would never live up to von Karma's legacy, and now he was letting Phoenix down for simply doing as he was asked. 

Would Phoenix understand if he knew the truth about why he became a prosecutor? Would he be even more upset with him? Could Phoenix even understand? What could he even say to Phoenix to try to explain?

Miles knew that this was a dangerous line of questioning. 

His feet carried him to the parlor, where all the Christmas decorations were still up. It was somewhere he felt safe. Von Karma never visited this part of the house, and Franziska would probably be attending to the horses they boarded on their property, as she usually did in the afternoons. Phoenix would most likely stay sulking in their room, so Miles would have the parlor to himself.

Miles scanned the shelves of books, looking for something interesting enough to keep his mind occupied for the rest of the afternoon. 

Something fiction probably would have been the most distracting—Miles enjoyed tearing fictional plot lines apart when he felt particularly prickly. There was a sense of satisfaction to it. But the von Karma library only held non-fiction and law books. 

Finally, Miles decided on a collection of bizarre court cases from the 1980s. It was enough of a brainteaser to distract himself. He sat down and cracked the book open, scanning the table of contents and the case summaries, ready to lose track of his thoughts in these court cases. 

X

Miles had only gotten through two and a half cases before he felt his stomach growling. He checked his watch and realized it was about half an hour before dinner would be served, and he should get changed for dinner. 

He brought the book with him and turned the case over in his head, wondering if he could work through it during dinner. He could return to the last half of the third case before bed that evening and see if his hypothesis lined up with the court ruling.

Softly knocking on the door, Miles opened it and spotted Phoenix sitting on his futon, still wearing his headphones but bent over something. After a few steps inside, Miles could see a sketchbook in Phoenix‘s hand. 

Phoenix’s gaze snapped up, and he quickly shut the sketchbook and pushed the headphones off. 

“Er, dinner’s soon,” Miles said softly, putting the book on his bedside table and not bothering to ask why Phoenix was shoving his sketchbook away so quickly when Miles entered.

Miles turned towards the wardrobe and began sorting through the clothes he had to decide what he’d wear to dinner.

“U-Uh, Miles…” Phoenix started softly, looking up at Miles from his futon.

Miles huffed but turned to look at Phoenix expectantly, nonetheless, waiting for another fight.

“I…I know I kind of overreacted today,” Phoenix started hesitantly and glanced away.

“Yes, you think?” Miles snapped, rolling his eyes and turning back to the wardrobe, reaching for a suit jacket. However, there was a small sense of relief in hearing Phoenix apologize. Maybe the situation could be salvaged. Miles wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of eagerly jumping at his apology. He still wanted to give Phoenix a piece of his mind for giving him so much grief today.

“C’mon, man, I’m trying to apologize,” Phoenix argued as he jumped to his feet and crossed the room to where Miles was standing.

“Yes, but if you’re going to try and lecture me again, I’m not going to hear it,” Miles retorted, hanging the jacket he had picked out on the wardrobe handle.

“I’m not going to lecture you! I haven’t been lecturing you.” Phoenix said, shaking his head as Miles pulled out a collared shirt to accompany the jacket and closed the wardrobe doors. 

“You’ve been acting holier-than-thou all day long,” Miles hissed, turning towards Phoenix. “How is that not lecturing when you’re berating me for being heartless or admonishing me for choices I haven’t made or would never make?” Miles didn’t let Phoenix answer before turning to the chest of drawers and yanking them open to find a pair of slacks to go with the rest of the outfit.

“Whatever,” Phoenix groaned. “I’m just—I’m tired of arguing with you. Can we just…pretend today never happened?” he pleaded as he turned to follow Miles to the chest of drawers.

“I don’t know. Are you capable of doing that?” Miles returned the question with his own without looking up from where he was making his final selection. 

Phoenix pursed his lips and shook his head again, throwing his head back in exasperation.

“Yes, fine. Whatever,” Phoenix repeated. He then asked quietly, “What if von Karma wants to do another dissection of today’s trial over dinner?” 

“I don’t know,” Miles sighed softly, pulling out the pair of slacks he wanted and setting them aside. “I’ll…I’ll try to shift to topics, like our plans for Paris tomorrow or something,” Miles suggested, turning towards Phoenix as he shut the drawer. 

“Right, Paris,” Phoenix muttered. He was decidedly less excited about the Paris trip now. 

“If you don’t want to go, tell me now,” Miles insisted as he folded his arms across his chest.

“No—I mean, yes, of course I still want to go,” Phoenix quickly retorted. “I just…I don’t know. Can you help me figure out what I’m wearing to dinner now?”

“Of course,” Miles agreed.  

There was less tension between them as Miles helped pick out Phoenix’s dinner outfit, and as they changed. They both seemed to be exhausted and defeated, so they stayed quiet as they left their room to head for the dining room. Miles remembered to take Phoenix’s hand at the last minute, and this time, Phoenix didn’t pull away.

Luckily, it seemed that the von Karmas had gotten all the trial talk out of the way on their return trip home. Phoenix allowed himself to relax and began to get excited about going to Paris.  

Franziska insisted she had plans for them while they were in Paris, but wouldn’t share them with the couple yet. Phoenix was pleased to see Franziska in such high spirits and excited about their trip, even if it was just with him and Miles. Maybe things would be okay. 

Luckily, dinner ended without any further incident. They bid goodnight to the others, and Franziska reminded them that they’d be departing bright and early the next day. 

They returned to their room without much conversation, and Miles quietly suggested that they pack for their trip. 

The two of them began to pack in silence, Phoenix emptying his backpack to use for their day trip and making a mental tally of the toiletries he should pack. He packed some pajamas and wondered what outfit he should wear while they were out and about in Paris. Phoenix glanced at Miles hesitantly.

“Hey, uh, what should I wear for Paris tomorrow?” Phoenix asked. Miles looked up and shot him a confused look. 

“Do you really need me to pack for you, too?” Miles muttered as he rolled his eyes.

“You’re the one who has been coordinating my outfits,” Phoenix explained. “Especially for Paris. I have to be fashionable, non? I need your expertise.” Phoenix hoped that his levity would bring them back to the status quo. 

If they just avoided talking about what had happened that day for the rest of the trip, maybe things could be saved.

“Very well,” Miles sighed, setting aside his bag. 

“Have you decided what you’re wearing? Maybe whatever you pick for me can match,” Phoenix continued, trying to diffuse the tension further.

“Yes, I have a good idea of what I’ll be wearing. We’ll find something that will look good with it,” Miles said. They began to sort through Phoenix's remaining laundered clothing.

They laid out different options on Miles’s bed and compared looks side-by-side. After trying a variety of options, Miles decided on an indigo turtleneck and grey slacks for himself and an emerald sweater vest and dark midnight blue slacks for Phoenix.

“You’ll still need to pick what you’ll wear on the train,” Miles said as he began to fold the outfit carefully. “We’ll change into these once we get to the hotel Franziska booked for us, before we go on whatever outing she has planned.”

“Are you sure it wouldn’t be easier just to wear this stuff on the train?” Phoenix asked. 

“And potentially dirty your daywear during travel? Besides, you’ll feel better if you have a fresh change of clothes after the train trip,” Miles insisted. 

“Okay,” Phoenix said, giving in. Better to just go along with whatever Miles thought was best. “Then, I suppose that’s it, and I’ll pack my toiletries in the morning. Just don’t let me forget. Otherwise, we’ll have to share your toothbrush,” Phoenix teased him slightly.

“Absolutely not,” Miles said, looking horrified. 

Phoenix snorted at Miles’s expression. He was relieved that things would be okay as they settled down for the night. Neither of them was ready to sleep just yet. Miles cracked open the book he had brought to their room earlier, and Phoenix reached into his backpack to find his sketchbook again.

Phoenix had said he didn’t want to argue anymore, but Miles found that he couldn’t let the issue lie. He wanted to try to smooth things out a little more before they left for Paris in the morning.

“Wright,” Miles said softly. Phoenix hummed in acknowledgment. “Can we please talk a little more about today?”

“I’d rather not,” Phoenix said nonchalantly. “Didn’t we already decide we’re done arguing?” 

“Phoenix, please,” Miles pleaded. “It’s not to argue, I just—before tomorrow I want to clear the air a-and apologize.”

“Apologize?” Phoenix asked, seemingly confused by Miles’s admission.

“Yes, it’s just…I’m sorry that I don’t completely understand why you were so frustrated today, but I do understand that your courtroom appearance has affected you a great deal more than you’ve let on, and I should have been more cognizant of that fact.” 

“Listen, Miles, it’s fine,” Phoenix said, waving away his concern. “You’re not actually my boyfriend. You don’t have to try to put effort into this stupid fake relationship. You don’t have to pretend to care. Really.” 

“ Wri— Phoenix, listen to me,” Miles insisted. “Boyfriend or not, I can still care about how things affect you. I am, in fact, capable of that, believe it or not. As a friend, if nothing else.” 

Phoenix grumbled something about “demon prosecutor” under his breath. Miles took another deep breath as he attempted to find his words.

“Listen…to honestly answer your question from earlier—I like to imagine that if I had been the prosecutor at your trial, I would listen to reason, and over the course of the trial, I would have chosen your innocence over my win record. But the truth is, I…really don’t know. And I know that hurts to hear. Honestly, when it comes down to it…I’m not exactly…proud of the reputation I have…or the prosecutor I’ve become.” 

Phoenix finally looked up and met Miles’s gaze. 

When Phoenix didn’t interrupt him, Miles continued. 

“Ever since moving back to America, I’ve been trying to live up to a family legacy for a family that I don’t even properly belong to. I thought it was the only way for me to survive as a prosecutor…to clutch onto the learnings and legacy of von Karma,” Miles explained. 

Phoenix’s mouth contorted in confusion.

“I just don’t get it,” Phoenix relented. “Why a prosecutor? Why not leave all that in the past and build yourself a new life…or—or even one aligned with your father’s career, a little more like you wanted to do when we were kids?”

“It’s complicated,” Miles insisted.

“Just tell me, Miles. How complicated could it be? What changed so much between then and now?”

Miles's expression showed a flicker of panic, fear, and anger all wrapped up in each other. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

“What made you walk the path of a prosecutor?” Phoenix pressed again, feeling like he was close to getting Miles to open up. 

Miles flinched as if he had come back to his senses. 

“I—I don’t believe I owe you an explanation. And you wouldn’t understand the complexities of everything that’s at play,” Miles said in a warning tone.

Phoenix felt his exasperation bubble over.

“You’re so—Do you really think you’re honoring your father’s memory by becoming this?” Phoenix could feel his fury rising up inside his chest again. “Do you think he’d be proud of you as you are now?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Phoenix knew he shouldn’t have said them. 

Miles was all but bristling as a tense silence washed over them. 

The tension almost felt electric in the worst possible ways. 

Miles finally found his words.

“Don’t you dare talk to me about my father or how I honor his memory,” Miles hissed through gritted teeth. 

Phoenix winced as if he realized that might have been a step too far. 

“I—I know, I’m sorry,” Phoenix quickly retracted his statement. “That was…too far. I’m just tired and…”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. You have no idea what would or would not honor his memory. I’m sorry that my life isn’t the fucking fairytale we discussed when we were eight years old!” Miles argued heatedly.

“O-Okay, yeah, of course. I’m sorry, Miles,” Phoenix apologized meekly. Miles huffed and shook his head, deciding he was done for the evening.

“Goodnight, Wright,” Miles said, and without another word, he turned off the light in the room. 

He could hear Miles stifling sobs, and Phoenix felt awful. He knew he had gone too far, but he was so frustrated by everything Miles had become, and his decisions were just so baffling. He wanted to try to apologize again, but he didn’t want to make matters even worse if that were possible. 

Instead, Phoenix sighed and rolled over on his futon. He knew they’d be getting an early start and needed as much rest as he could, but…he knew he wouldn’t be able to calm his mind enough to fall asleep. 

Putting on his headphones again, he played some music to give Miles some semblance of privacy in their shared room.

Phoenix closed his eyes and willed sleep to find him. He tossed and turned a bit longer, their conversation—their argument—continuing to bounce around his mind. 

He tried to force himself to think of other things—to think of what they could be doing tomorrow. What activities had Franziska planned for them? However, his mind continued to wander towards their quarrel. Phoenix hoped that their argument wouldn’t affect their trip. He was going to try to keep things civilized, but he still couldn’t believe that Miles wouldn’t even consider how Phoenix felt about it all.

Phoenix paused the music that was blasting through his headphones to listen for Miles. He couldn’t help but feel awful. 

The sobs seemed to have quieted, but there wasn’t the telltale deep even breathing that promised Miles was asleep. He was probably lying awake just like Phoenix, praying to get at least a few hours of sleep before the next portion of their trip.

It was hard to believe they would continue this week as if nothing had happened.

Phoenix wondered if maybe he could invent some other trivial reason for them to “fight” so they didn’t have to pretend to be such a perfect couple in front of the von Karmas.

But would that dampen Franziska’s enjoyment of their upcoming trip or the remainder of the holidays? It seemed unfair to put her in the middle of this. Phoenix never knew what it was like to have siblings, but despite her prickly personality, she had also started to feel like a younger sister to Phoenix. He wanted to protect her and give her a fun holiday, especially since she never really had the chance to act her own age and bond with her peers.

Finally, Phoenix drifted off to a fitful sleep.