interim. | narumitsu fic | Completed
Rating: PG-13 (Teens)
Relationships: Phoenix Wright/Miles Edgeworth
Characters: Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth
Tags: canon-compliant, bittersweet ending, unreliable narrator
Summary:
But today, Phoenix isn't a lawyer, a father, or even a man hellbent on some strange iteration of justice through vengeance. He isn't a character in a play either, and he lets the silence stretch over the seconds until the quiet is indicative of an actor forgetting their line instead of a meaningful pause in a play. For some reason, Phoenix is just Phoenix, and Edgeworth…
Phoenix desperately wants him to be a character in a play where everything sounds right.
But Edgeworth is Edgeworth, and that means letting the silence stretch into the night.
In the in-between of moving on and healing, Phoenix finds himself stage right of a drama featuring one Miles Edgeworth.
word count: 2162
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Ace Attorney, or any of the related characters. The Ace Attorney series is created by Shu Takumi and owned by Capcom Co., Ltd. This story is intended for entertainment purposes only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the Ace Attorney series belong to Capcom Co., Ltd.
When Phoenix was still in art school, he took classes on screenwriting.
He remembers his lessons for the most part; capitalize the character names, add parentheses below character names to direct the way the actors deliver their lines, start new scenes with the scene number and location.
If he had to write the scene he seems to be in, he would write it like this:
ACT I, SCENE 1
Outside on MILES EDGEWORTH’s veranda, looking out to the garden, PHOENIX WRIGHT stands alone in the night sky. There are muffled sounds coming from the house, laughing, talking, and the occasional raised voice. MILES EDGEWORTH pulls back the curtains then opens the sliding door and steps out to join PHOENIX WRIGHT.
PHOENIX
Too much?
EDGEWORTH
The reason for this party is to celebrate your innocence. Yet you’ve barely shown your face inside.
PHOENIX
(He rolls his eyes)
I stayed inside for thirty minutes. Maybe I’m just too old for parties, y’know? Trucy even says I’m old.
EDGEWORTH
It’s her job as your daughter to say things like that. Aren’t you cold?
(He looks at Phoenix and by coincidence, Phoenix looks at Edgeworth at the same time. Phoenix does not look away even when Edgeworth looks down. It looks like Edgeworth is embarrassed, face flushed but the dimness of the moon’s light makes it hard to tell.)
Phoenix sighs and looks back at the garden. It’s a quaint thing; there are flowers blossoming at the edges, and a plot full of growing vegetables in the middle. He wonders if Edgeworth hires someone to take care of his garden while he’s in Europe. He wonders who takes the vegetables when he’s gone or if he just lets them rot.
"It's not too cold. Don't worry about me and go back inside," Phoenix finally replies.
"Well, I'd rather stay out here, if you don't mind," Edgeworth doesn't ask but says he'll stay. In another life, Phoenix might’ve jokingly said that he does mind. Then he’ll argue mindlessly with Edgeworth just to fill in the gaps in between. But Phoenix is no longer twenty-four years old. He's thirty-three, and seven years is a long time to be alone.
It's not quiet, per se. Not when Phoenix can hear the chords of steel from inside and a bunch of other people attempting to mimic Apollo; not when there are sounds of animals scurrying through the bushes; not when they live in the city and no matter how far Edgeworth's house is from the main road, there's always the sounds of traffic in the distance.
But it's quiet.
Throughout their rather tumultuous relationship, there was never a real quiet moment between them. As children, they regaled each other with fanciful stories of the future or discussed their favorite episode of the Signal Samurai. When they met each other as defense attorney and prosecutor, their sparse meetings consisted of hands slamming on tables, raised voices, petty arguments, and awkward attempts at normal conversation. And finally, when Phoenix was stripped of his badge and Edgeworth regained his, meeting up became harder. But whenever they met, they were lawyer and legal aide, vocal supporters of Trucy, and two men who sought to reveal the truth, willing to do anything for it.
But today, Phoenix isn't a lawyer, a father, or even a man hellbent on some strange iteration of justice through vengeance. He isn't a character in a play either, and he lets the silence stretch over the seconds until the quiet is indicative of an actor forgetting their line instead of a meaningful pause in a play. For some reason, Phoenix is just Phoenix, and Edgeworth…
Phoenix desperately wants him to be a character in a play where everything sounds right.
But Edgeworth is Edgeworth, and that means letting the silence stretch into the night.
“What’s wrong, Wright?”
Edgeworth’s soft voice cuts through the silence. For a split second, Phoenix wonders if today is the day everything falls into place. But as fast as the fleeting idea crosses his mind, it’s already been discarded a long time ago.
Phoenix looks at Edgeworth and shrugs. “Just thinking about the future,” he tells the truth. He lies. He isn’t really sure. “What am I going to do now?”
“Take the bar? Again?” Edgeworth proposes it so earnestly but Phoenix can already see the number of fees piling up and the gavel swinging downward to give a verdict he doesn’t think he can ever trust again.
“Don’t you think I’m too old to take the bar?” Phoenix looks down and laughs with a rather bitter edge to it. Sometimes he wonders if he would’ve made it as an actor if he stuck to it in college. He knows he has the talent for it. But maybe he would’ve been better suited as a director.
As expected, Edgeworth scoffs. “Age has no bearing on one’s accomplishments. Besides, you already passed it once,” he says. “And I’ve heard the bar is easier compared to the one you must’ve taken before.”
“That’s what they want you to think! Get their hopes up then crush them in a single blow!” Phoenix lifts his right hand and smashes it against his left palm just for emphasis.
“But what’s the other problem? You’re far too good at this now,” Edgeworth lets out a breath exhale. It sounds too weary for Phoenix’s liking, but it settles the mood so he puts his hands in the pockets of his jacket and considers his next words.
“I’m not young anymore, Edgeworth. I thought I would take the bar again but I don’t think I could ever trust myself again in the court to fight for someone else.” Phoenix lays out his cards carefully and hopes that Edgeworth doesn’t notice the cheat laying in plain sight.
But who is Edgeworth if not the man who’s played this game with him a thousand times?
“Not as naive as you were back then?”
When Phoenix laughs, it’s genuine this time. It’s quiet and airy, but at the very least, it’s real. “Are you trying to put me on the stand, Mr. Edgeworth? I’ll have you know I’m a terrible witness.”
Edgeworth puts his elbow on the ledge and rests his chin on the palm of his hand. He gives Phoenix a smile that gives off a sparkle in his eyes. “So I’ve heard. But I’m not a prosecutor for nothing,”
“I suppose you’re not going to let me off the hook on this one, huh? Not even if I plead the fifth?” Edgeworth shakes his head and Phoenix wonders if this was how the other man felt when their roles were reversed in the past.
“You know it’s not healthy to keep it bottled up inside,” Edgeworth says.
“Taking lines from your psychologist now?”
“Yes, actually. And we both know it’s the truth,” Edgeworth lets out a huff then continues on. “I’m not going to force you to tell me, but you should at least tell someone else about this.”
Phoenix mulls on it for a moment before turning around and leaning against the rail with his elbows supporting him behind him.
“Well, I was also telling the truth earlier on. I didn’t forge that piece of evidence years ago, but I’m not above that anymore. I had to play with the law to get the justice I deserved years ago and look at where it’s gotten me,” Phoenix looks up at the blanket of clouds that obscure the moon, the stars, and the night sky. “I’m not a good man, and the law isn’t just or fair. I think I should leave it to the new blood, y’know?”
Edgeworth cocks his head towards his house. Inside, Phoenix can hear the kids singing some new pop song he doesn’t care for. “You mean Mr. Justice?”
“Who else would it be? Apollo is a good kid and he has a good head on his shoulders. If he can’t trust his client, I at least know he trusts himself,” Phoenix smiles. “It’s more than enough now.”
“Apollo Justice is who he is now because of your guidance.”
“Apollo Justice punched me because I forced him to present false evidence.”
“Well,” Edgeworth adjusts his glasses and crosses his arms. “No one ever said no one has ever learned from the mistakes of their mentors.”
Phoenix feels his eyes widen for a moment before he gives Edgeworth a huge grin. “That’s true. But I have no idea if Apollo will still want to learn from me after all that. It’s not like he’s stuck with me.”
“I’ll concede to your point. But I have a feeling he’ll stick around—and not just for Trucy,” Edgeworth cuts Phoenix off before he can even open his mouth. The fucker.
“Maybe. Only time will tell.”
It’s quiet again.
Phoenix looks at Edgeworth. Edgeworth keeps looking beyond the garden.
He guesses he forgot about another kind of quiet in a play.
Sometimes, Phoenix imagines them as characters instead of people. If he was a character, he knows what he might represent. He also knows Edgeworth would represent the opposite. It isn’t ridiculous to think of it that way, but they’re not characters.
They’re people.
Phoenix thinks of the time he ran across a burning bridge and fell into the raging river beneath. He remembers he thought he would’ve died. But he wasn’t afraid of that.
“We’re both old now.”
Phoenix isn’t afraid of burning.
“We’re not that old, but I know what you’re trying to say.”
Phoenix isn’t afraid of drowning.
“But nothing’s changed at all.”
Phoenix isn’t afraid of dying.
“Oh.”
Phoenix is afraid of Edgeworth.
They’re both looking at each other now. There’s too much space between them, but that’s always been the norm for them. Physically. Mentally. Personally.
Edgeworth breathes out. Phoenix breathes in.
“I’ll always be here for you, Phoenix,” Edgeworth’s voice is too soft. It’s new. It makes Phoenix want to run away before the man in front of him reveals the ugly twisted beast inside him.
“Oh yeah? Not gonna run off to Germany anymore?” Phoenix can’t help it. The words are already out his mouth before he can even think of them.
Edgeworth doesn’t say anything for too long, and Phoenix is almost about to excuse himself when he does speak again.
“The garden is coming along nicely, isn’t it?” He asks.
Phoenix blinks. “Huh? Well, I guess it is,”
“I didn’t have time before. It was always empty. A gardener would come by sometimes to make sure the grass didn’t creep outside, but it was always barren,” Edgeworth tells him. “But I’ve been here for three months now.”
Phoenix swallows. Something inside him desperately wants to melt, but he can’t. He just can’t.
“Another day can change that.” But oh, how his voice betrays him.
Betrayal has always been a plot device that Phoenix is absolutely fascinated with. Betrayals always have grand reveals and dramatic music, with cutting light and shadows just to accentuate the horror the protagonist would feel.
Yet, the moon’s light hardly gives off any light so the shadows are soft, and the only music playing is some stupid Gavinners song that people absolutely love for some reason.
It’s what makes a comedy. Phoenix thinks distantly, only really focusing on Edgeworth’s hand on his shoulder. A comedy.
“I’m here to stay. I’ll visit Germany when needed, but I’m here to stay.” Edgeworth says it without a single space for doubt.
And it still feels like a tragedy for some reason.
Phoenix puts his hand on Edgeworth’s hand and puts it away as gently as possible.
“Nothing’s changed,” he says.
“And yet, so many things have changed,” Edgeworth sighs. “Can’t you at least trust me?”
“I ‘ve trusted you with my life.”
“In the past. What about now?”
Moonlight glints off Edgeworth’s glasses. Phoenix almost feels like he can’t breathe.
“Is it too much to wait?” It’s all Phoenix can possibly give at the moment.
Edgeworth looks up with a strange expression on his face.
But it’s all he has.
“I’ll count the seconds then.”
It’s such a perfect line to end a drama made by a first-year theater major. Phoenix can almost swear he’s written a line like that before.
But Phoenix is not in a play. And neither is the man in front of him.
“Thank you, Miles.”
It’s as empty as their discarded pasts, but the weight settles perfectly between them. Phoenix hopes it might bloom in the future.
Maybe one day, Phoenix will reach out. He won’t ever be the same man as he was nine years ago, but there’s a lifetime waiting for him beyond the confines of a veranda.
Together, they head back inside the house where they are greeted by the people they love and will grow with; a moment stolen from behind the screen.
But the curtains are drawn closed in the end and the veranda will remain empty until Phoenix can make an encore once more.
END.
notes: all mistakes are my own.
first narumitsu fic of all time,,,, amazing,,,,, (i am afraid i did not write them well fjsdkfjsdjf)
anyways i am sooooo ill for this actually like unreliable narrator phoenix wright who is a master manipulator and traumatized from lying men and also doesnt trust himself anymore and being a mirror for edgeworth especially at the end and edgeworth fully devoting himself back to phoenix bc phoenix waited for him OUGH
pls talk to me abt them on twitter <3
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