Chapter Text
Phoenix stood at the defense's table. Godot stood at the prosecution's.
Iris stood at the witness stand. Only, it wasn't Iris.
Phoenix felt like he might throw up as Iris's sweet face contorted into smugness. It was Dahlia. The nightmare of a woman, a girlfriend who had framed him for murder, the girl who was executed a few months ago under the charge of multiple murders. She was right in front of him, being channeled by one of his closest friends.
Something pulsed through the courtroom. A feeling of dread, maybe? Dahlia revealed her plan, of being channeled by Pearl so that she may murder Maya Fey. Even beyond the grave, she was a killer.
But she wasn't being channeled by Pearl. Phoenix knew that, because the little girl had told him she tried to channel, but failed. Someone else was channeling Dahlia. And if it wasn't Pearl, it must be Maya.
In an attempt to save her own life, Maya hid in the most perfect hiding spot. Right under Dahlia's nose.
"The person channeling you right now is Maya Fey!" Phoenix exclaimed, thrusting his finger out in a dramatic point. Dahlia screeched, her composure crumbling in an instant.
"W-What do you mean?!" the judge exclaimed from above.
"Your plan for revenge against Mia Fey has failed you, Dahlia Hawthorne!" Phoenix shouted. "Maya has made it impossible for you to kill her. You lost. Again."
Dahlia did not take it well. She screamed, convulsing at the witness stand. Something burst in Phoenix's chest, a blinding pain, and he yelled out loud, doubling over and clutching his heart. Judging by the sounds he heard in front of him, Godot was doing the same.
"You'll be sorry!" Dahlia roared, her voice practically coming from every corner in the room. Phoenix felt utterly surrounded, and the joy of victory in his grasp was gone. Something was happening, he wasn't sure what. So, he knelt down, wrapping his arms around his torso as Dahlia screeched, her body starting to levitate at the witness stand, her hair fluttering in every direction, eyes glowing. One by one, everyone in the courtroom collapsed to the ground as Dahlia flew higher and higher into the air. Godot's mug shattered. Phoenix heard a voice call out to him. Meanwhile, a high-pitched screech was filling the air, getting louder and louder until Phoenix felt his eardrums might burst-
Phoenix woke himself up with a quiet gasp. His hand was clenched tightly around the pillow underneath him. He focused on catching his breath, closing his eyes and trying to relax his tense muscles. The risidual fear was already fading away.
He felt a small hand on his shoulder, and he jumped.
"Are you alright?" a voice asked from the other side of the bed. Phoenix rolled over, and his eyes fell on the perfect sight.
His beautiful Dahlia, lying beside him, one hand gently touching his arm. Her hair was splayed out on her pillow, and her eyes- with the beautiful eyelashes- were watching him with tired concern.
"Just a nightmare, Dollie," Phoenix whispered, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles. "Nothing to worry about."
Dahlia smiled a small, close-lipped smile, and Phoenix's heart could barely take it. "I'm sorry. You can tell me all about it during breakfast, it is about time to wake up anyway," she said, sitting up in their bed. Phoenix followed suit, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her cheek passionately.
"I've already forgotten what it was about," he murmured into her cheek, grinning. She giggled, and it was Phoenix's favorite sound.
"Then I guess we'll find another topic to talk about. But I have to get to work, so come on, out of bed," she urged playfully, ripping the blanket off both of them.
Phoenix let his wonderful girlfriend cook them pancakes while he showered and brushed his teeth. As usual, everything was perfect, and Phoenix couldn't be happier.
When he came into the kitchenette of their apartment, he saw his girlfriend making pancakes in her usual outfit- a white suit jacket and a pencil skirt. She looked like an angel. A business angel. He came up from behind her and gave her a big hug, kissing her loudly on the cheek.
"Your pancakes are on the table, Feenie," she smiled.
"You're the best." Phoenix sat down at the table and started to eat as Dahlia finished up at the stove.
"Do you have the lunch and dinner shift today, my love?" Dahlia asked, not turning around to look at him. Phoenix spoke between mouthfuls of pancakes.
"That's right!"
"I don't know why you insist on working, dear," Dahlia sighed, turning around. "I make enough money for both of us."
"I know that, Madam Mayor," Phoenix said teasingly. "But I need something to do while you're off being important all day. And I like my job."
Dahlia smiled as she sat down with him. "If you insist. You know I'll do anything to make you happy."
"I know," Phoenix took her hand and looked at her lovingly. "And I am so, so happy."
Phoenix worked at one of those singing cafe's, the one where your waiter sings to you the whole time. He prepared himself in the break room, buttoning up his nice black vest, tying his black apron around his waist, and warming up his voice.
Phoenix's goal isn't to be a singing waiter. He wanted to be an actor. This job is just to keep him busy between auditions. A few times, he had actually been cast in local shows, but he never found himself at a theatre for more than one season.
He picked up his notepad and put it in the pocket of his apron. Then, he furrowed his eyebrows.
What was the last show that I was in, anyway?
Phoenix couldn't seem to remember. Before he could think about it any further, the manager peeked in and told him that his shift was starting.
Instantly forgetting what he was thinking about, he marched into the cafe and started taking orders. His customers loved listening to him sing off the specials. Hours went by, but they felt like mere seconds. He figured that times flies when you were having fun, and he was, for sure, having fun!
He approached a table where a strange man was sitting. He was wearing some kind of visor or mask over his eyes, and it glowed red, as if it were powering something. Phoenix had never seen anything like it. Something in the back of his mind was screaming that maybe he had, however.
He ignored that and cleared his throat.
"Hi my name is Phoenix Wright, I'll be your server for tonight!" he sang cheerfully. The man looked up at him, but he couldn't see the expression through the visor.
The woman across the table from him gasped, and spoke before Phoenix could finish his song. "It's you!"
Phoenix cut himself off, looking down at Visor-Man's date. She was a pretty woman, a bit older than Phoenix. She wore a nice black jacket and had long brown hair and something was eerily familiar about her.
"Yes, it's me," Phoenix said slowly, breaking character. "Have we met?"
The woman's expression melted from surprise to pity, and Phoenix wasn't sure what to think about it. "We did, a long time ago."
"Did you?" her date questioned. His voice was low, and pretty robotic, as if it were slightly manipulated by the strange contraption on his face.
"I'm Mia Fey," the woman tried. Phoenix wracked his brain.
"I'm sorry, this is super embarrassing," he chuckled, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.
"It's not a big deal," Mia sighed, smiling unconvincingly. "It's a...pleasure to see you again, Mr. Wright," she held out her hand, fingers somewhat limp and against her palm. It was a weird way to ask for a handshake, but Phoenix accepted it, shaking her hand. Her fingers opened, and he felt something press into his palm. As he pulled away, he closed his fingers and trapped the object in his hand.
"I'll...be back with some waters," he said uncertainly, looking between Mia and her companion. He didn't even realize he dropped the singing shtick.
"Don't forget to sing, Trite," the man reminded him, and Phoenix nodded, turning and walking away. As he did, he looked down at his hand.
Mia had passed him a small slip of paper. He ducked into the kitchen and opened the paper.
Find Miles Edgeworth!
Miles Edgeworth? Phoenix's eyebrows furrowed. Who the heck is Miles Edgeworth? And why does that woman want me to find him? A sharp pain flashed behind his eyes, and he grunted, doubling over in pain.
"Is everything alright, Phoenix?" a fellow server asked.
"Just a headache," Phoenix waved her off. He looked back down at the paper for another clue, but there was nothing else on it. He tried to remember if he ever met anyone named Miles Edgeworth. As far as he could remember, he had not.
I should go ask that woman what she meant, Phoenix figured. He stepped out of the kitchen, clutching the paper with urgency, and went back to the table. Visor-Man was sitting alone, and Phoenix stopped, staring in surprise. The man glanced at him.
"Something wrong?"
"Where's the woman you were with?" Phoenix asked, pointing at the empty chair. The man looked across his table. Phoenix couldn't read his expression, but judging by his mouth, it looked like confusion.
"What woman? I came here alone. And aren't you supposed to sing?"
"Alone?" Phoenix gasped, eyes widening. Yes, that's right. He came alone. But why did I come over here? He glanced down at his fist, clenched tightly around something. He slowly opened it.
His hand was empty.
"Hm," he looked back up. "Apologies, I was confused for a moment." He cleared his throat and started to sing. "Hi my name is Phoenix Wright, and I'll be your server for tonight! Can I start you off with something to drink, or would you like some more time to think?"
After a full day of work that felt like it flew by in an instant, Phoenix returned home that night and wondered if there was something he was forgetting. His hand twitched, as if it wanted to hold something, but he couldn't remember what. When he opened the apartment door, Dahlia was there waiting for him. She had taken off her blazer and was in her skirt and a nice white button-up. She smiled when he came in and gave him a hug.
"How was work, darling?" she asked. Phoenix squeezed her tightly.
"It was great. How was mayor-ing?"
"Everything is perfect," Dahlia kissed his cheek.
"Town's running smoothly?" Phoenix snickered, keeping his arms around her waist as they walked further into the apartment.
"As always," Dahlia put a hand to a chest and slowed him down. "Something on your mind, my love?"
"No, no," Phoenix shook his head. "I just kind of feel like I'm forgetting something."
Dahlia's eyebrow raised. "Oh? Like, perhaps, picking up dinner for tonight?"
Phoenix slapped his forehead. "That must be it!"
"No worries, I'll cook something for us," Dahlia patted his cheek lovingly. "You just relax and watch some tv, Feenie."
Phoenix let her go to the kitchenette. He went to their room to change out of his work clothes. As he unbuttoned his vest, he contemplated the strange feeling he was having. It must have been because he forgot to grab dinner. But was there really something else? There was something he had to do, wasn't there? Something beyond dinner. Something someone asked him to do. What was it? What was he forgetting?! What did he want to do?
He looked down at his hand. Resting in his palm was a small, velvet, blue ring box.
This must be what I was forgetting! Phoenix thought excitedly. That's right! I want to propose to Dollie! I just need to find the right moment. Maybe someday when we're out for a nice-
-dinner.
As Phoenix finished his thought, he realized he was sitting at a table at a nice restaurant. He was wearing nicer clothes, a button-up shirt and dress pants. He could feel the weight of the ring box in his pocket. Dollie sat across from him in a beautiful white summer dress. Her eyes was trained intensely on the menu.
When did we get here? Phoenix pondered, looking around at the rest of the restaurant. This was a classy place, white tablecloths, well-dressed servers, and expensive food. He saw a glass display of all the wine they served here.
He looked back at Dahlia. Of course, I took Dahlia out for a nice dinner to propose! Geez, where is my head today?
"Anything look good to you, Feenie?" Dahlia asked, not looking up from the menu. Phoenix smirked and leaned forward, his elbows on the table.
"You do."
Dahlia looked up from her menu and playfully swatted at him. "I was talking about the menu and you know it! Now, elbows off the table."
Phoenix chuckled but complied. He picked up the menu and studied it. Let's see, what do I want?
When he looked back at the table, there was a steak in front of him. He looked at it with surprise before realizing that there wasn't a menu in his hands, but rather a fork and steak knife. Dahlia looked at him curiously.
"Something wrong with your meal, dearest?" she asked. Phoenix shook his head, trying to snap out of whatever daze he keeps falling into.
"No, not at all, it's perfect," he smiled convincingly. He knew that once he got through the dinner, it would be time for dessert, which is when he would pop the question!
His fork dug into the steak, but hit an empty plate. He looked down in surprise. The plate was dirty, sauce remnants still on it. He must have finished the steak.
"Did you like your dinner, Feenie?" Dahlia asked, patting the corners of her lips with her napkin.
I don't even remember eating it. "It was delicious, Dollie," he responded. "Should we order-" he looked down at his hands, where a dessert menu was waiting for him. "-...dessert?"
"I think that's a great idea," Dahlia clapped her hands together. "You know my favorite, darling!"
He did. Cheesecake. He turned to the waiter, who was standing beside him, and ordered the cheesecake. Dahlia always loves to get the cheesecake, he thought.
When he turned away from the waiter, he saw that a cheesecake was already sitting on the table. He audibly gasped, jumping in his chair. Dahlia looked at him with surprise.
"Something wrong?"
"When did that-?!" Phoenix cut himself off. Why am I acting so surprised? The waiter brought the cheesecake over just a second ago, of course.
"You said there was something you wanted to talk about?" Dahlia asked, taking the world's smallest bite of cheesecake.
Oh that's right! Phoenix sat up straight.
"Dahlia, my love," he said seriously. "Ever since we first met..." he trailed off. Wait. How did we meet?
"Ever since we first met...?" Dahlia encouraged, cocking her head with curiosity. Phoenix shook himself out of it.
"I knew you were perfect," he finished. "You were my angel, the light of my life." He reveled in the blush on his girlfriend's cheeks. "When we decided to move in together, life only got more perfect. I can't imagine any other life than the one here, with you. I want this perfect life to last forever, my love. And that's why..." he got up from his chair and knelt down beside her. She gasped, her hands flying over her mouth. Phoenix brought out the ring box and opened it. "Will you marry me, Dahlia, my love?"
There wasn't even a hesitation. "Yes! Yes! I will marry you!" she exclaimed, flinging herself out of her chair and wrapping her arms around him. They hugged, laughed, and even cried a little. Phoenix barely noticed that the whole restaurant bursting into applause as he slipped the ring onto her finger. He kissed her hand lovingly.
But, still, there was something itching in the back of his mind. How did we first meet? Why can't I remember?
Miles rushed through the large kitchen in the Von Karma mansion in Germany. He quickly turned off the stove and removed the tea kettle, letting the high-pitched cry quiet down. He brought the kettle over to the tea cups sitting on the island and started pouring. He heard the faint sound of the television being turned on in the next room.
He looked up and saw Franziska, sitting in one of the chairs in front of the tv. He finished pouring and picked up a tea cup so he could set it on the tray.
Suddenly, a face appeared on the television screen. A man with spiky black hair, two different-colored eyes, and a wide grin. Miles's heart stopped, and the tea cup slipped through his hands like butter.
Franziska practically screamed, startled by the loud sound of the tea cup shattering against the marble floor. "Little brother!" she exclaimed in German as Miles snapped out of it, quickly grabbing a towel and mopping up the spilled tea.
"Apologies, Franziska, I'm not sure what came over me," Miles murmured in equally fluent German as Franziska grabbed a dust sweeper and pan from the kitchen closet. "There is no need to-"
"I'll clean here, you go bring father his tea, you know he hates tardiness," Franziska insisted, kneeling beside him and sweeping up the shattered cup. Miles smiled fondly at his sister.
"Thank you, Franziska," he whispered before standing and putting the other tea cup on the tray. He carefully but hurriedly carried it through the winding hallways of the Von Karma estate. Everything was large, gray, and marble. He passed a few giant paintings along the way. He stopped at a pair of large brown doors and knocked politely before stepping in.
"Father?" he called out.
A large figure was standing in front of a large window, casting a large shadow over the office. Miles felt rather small.
Manfred Von Karma turned around, shadows casting over his face.
Then, he grinned.
"My boy, right on time, as usual," he chuckled, sitting at his desk. "What am I having this afternoon?"
"Darjeeling black tea," Miles said, setting the tray down on Manfred's giant desk. "Is there anything else you'd like, father?"
"No, thank you, my son," Manfred patted Miles on the head. Something in the back of Miles's mind hated it, it felt patronizing. Miles wasn't a child anymore, and he certainly didn't want to be treated as one. It felt condescending, and Miles hated it.
But he loved his father.
"I'll be out in time for dinner," Manfred waved him off. Miles did a little formal bow and left the office. When he returned to the kitchen, Franziska was disposing of the rest of the tea cup.
"Thank you for helping," he said when he came in.
"No worries, little brother, I'm here to help," Franziska patted his shoulder with a friendly smile. Miles couldn't help but smile back. For as long as he could remember, Franziska was always so helpful around the house. So much so that he let her call him 'little brother' despite being quite a few years older than her. He glanced back at the tv and saw it was still on.
"I didn't know we got English channels," he said, noticing the distinctly Not-German voices coming from it.
"I convinced father to purchase some American channels to help with my lessons in English, so I could sound more conversational," Franziska explained.
"That's a good idea, I'll be sure to join you in watching some time," Miles said as he poured himself some tea. "Would you like some-?"
"Do you even have to ask?" Franziska laughed. Miles chuckled and poured her some tea too, occasionally glancing back at the tv.
"Remember when I dropped the cup?"
"You mean one minute ago?" Franziska raised an eyebrow and accepted the tea cup from him. "Yes, brother, shockingly, I do."
"What commercial was on then?"
"The one that surprised you so much? It was just a dog food commercial!" Franziska exclaimed.
"I felt like I knew the man in that commercial. I must have seen him before."
"I can't say he struck anything with me, but perhaps he starred in those infernal Samurai shows you love so dearly," Franziska teased. Miles blushed intensely, grip tightening on his cup.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," he murmured, holding the cup to his lips. "He just seemed so familiar. I figured you, as an investigative genius, would have been able to find out who he was. But I see that you are using teasing as a way to hide that you can't."
Franziska's face turned red this time, and she clenched her fists in almost-mock anger. "I'll show you, little brother! It will take me but a minute to find out exactly who this man is!" she whipped out her phone and typed rapidly. She scrolled for a few seconds, then typed something else, and scrolled some more. In a mere two minutes, she was on his IMDB page.
"Impressive," Miles chuckled as she held her phone out to show him.
"This fool is Phoenix Wright. He is a nobody. He has only been in a few American commercials, and a couple local American plays. You probably have not seen this man before."
"He must have just reminded me of some bigger actor," Miles shrugged, holding onto Franziska's phone and looking at Wright's credentials.
Franziska snatched her phone back. "That's it, he must just resemble someone you've seen on television before."
"Well, thank you for the assistance, Franziska. As always, you are the most helpful sister anyone could ever have."
Franziska smiled proudly. She was always so nice to Miles, their whole lives. She was always willing to help out, but she was also enormously proud of herself when she does so. As Miles went to the couch to watch the tv, she glanced back down at her phone.
There was something in her that reacted when she saw Phoenix Wright's headshot. Something that made her scowl and think, Fool.
Miles was at the courthouse now. As he walked through the front doors, he looked around curiously. He remembered drinking tea with Franziska, and then sitting down to watch some television, but he can't quite remember how the rest of the day went. He didn't even really remember coming to work.
But it was absolutely logical that he would be here, so he barely even noticed.
Miles walked through the elevator doors and pressed the button. As the doors started to slide closed, he heard a shrill voice call out in English.
"Hold the doors!"
Miles thrusted his hand through the closing doors, and they halted abruptly. They began to slide back open as a frantic brunette woman stumbled through the doors, gasping for breath.
She looked up at him with wide eyes and exclaimed, "Edgeworth!"
Edgeworth? I've never heard of that word before, why is she spouting nonsense? "Es tut mir leid, haben wir uns schon einmal getroffen?" he asked, politely holding out his hand. She held up her hands defensively as he spoke.
"Woah, woah, I only speak English."
"Ah, my apologies," Miles said. He knew English, but didn't speak it often, as the Von Karma's mostly spoke German in the house. He watched as the woman straightened her back and looked into his eyes. She stared deeply at him, as if searching for something. Miles tensed under her gaze.
"I'm surprised to see you in an elevator, Prosecutor Edgeworth."
Miles's eyebrows furrowed. "I think you may have me confused with someone else. I am Prosecutor Miles Von Karma."
The woman's eyes widened with surprise, and a hint of sadness. That only confused Miles further.
"I see. You're right. You must be someone else, Prosecutor Edgeworth is deathly afraid of elevators," she stated, turning and facing forward as the elevator started to move.
"Yes, well, that does not sound like me at- AH!" Miles glanced over to the side and yelled in surprise.
Leaning against the wall was a dead man, shot straight through the heart, lifeless eyes looking up at him. Miles stumbled backward, grabbing the woman's arm and pressing them both against the other side of the elevator.
"Edgeworth!" the woman exclaimed. "What's wrong?!"
"What's wrong, can't you see-?!" he cut himself off as he looked back and saw the body was gone. He cleared his throat and released the woman. He looked around for a moment before his eyes fell back on the woman. "Have we met?" he asked.
The woman sighed and looked at him sadly, as if he had forgotten something. He wasn't sure what. Was he just startled a moment ago? He only had the slightly sped-up heartbeat in his chest as a clue.
"I'm not sure," the woman responded. "My name is Mia Fey."
Miles shook her hand and took note of her accent. "You are an American?"
"Yes, just visiting. Trying to find an old friend," she explained.
"I hope you find them," Miles said as the elevator doors opened once again.
"Wait!" she exclaimed before he could leave, and Miles flinched. She grabbed his hand and shoved a piece of paper into it. "Do you know Phoenix Wright?!"
Miles stared down at her. "The...actor?"
Mia's eyes widened. "Yes! You must find him and talk to him! Promise me you will do that?"
"I'm sorry, but what on Earth are you talking about?" Miles pulled away from her. He looked down at the paper, which read Find Phoenix Wright! Don't forget! "What is this supposed to mean?" he asked, looking back up-
-and finding himself standing alone in the elevator. He looked around. He was certain someone else had been there with him, right?
No, no, he took the elevator ride alone. Of course. He looked back down at his hand. He was holding his cell phone. With a shrug, he pocketed his phone and exited the elevator.