April 22, 9:27 AM
District Court
Courtroom Lobby No. 2
"Darn it! I knew I should've taken the bus! This always happens when I run full tilt towards the courtroom and I don't watch where I'm going."
Phoenix Wright sat on one of the couches in the defence lobby, his suitcase open on his lap. He was leaning forward and digging through his belongings, panic evident on his face. There was no doubt in his mind that something he thought was there was suddenly missing.
"One of these days I'm really going to have to get a driver's license. This is…aurgh!!!"
The mistake had happened on his way to the courthouse. You see, Phoenix was one out of the many unlucky individuals in a big city where his place of work is a long, long way from where he lived. Any given trial would start at ten in the morning. In order for him to get to the courthouse with a reasonable chunk of time remaining to get himself ready for the trial in question, he would have to leave his home at around eight-thirty. From there, he would usually run at full speed, attracting the attention of whoever was on the streets. Normally, you wouldn't expect to see a guy in a suit running down the sidewalks like he'd been chased by a pack of angry dogs. Phoenix usually wouldn't care about this. All that mattered was that he made it to work on time. The more time he took to get to work, the less time he'd have to compose himself.
It was on this particular windy morning that something had gone not quite according to plan. Phoenix was crossing a random street, still running as fast as he could. However, he failed to notice that a car was approaching the turn-off. The driver of the car slammed on his brakes, honking to get his attention. The sudden noise shocked Phoenix and he turned his head in the car's direction, letting out a sharp cry. Thankfully, the car didn't hit him. However, he was immediately knocked for a loop as the ground suddenly came up to meet him. After blacking out for a few seconds, he opened his eyes and looked around. As he had been distracted by the oncoming car, he had failed to notice where the next sidewalk had begun. This would be where he had tripped over the curb.
Groaning, he got to his knees and rubbed his head. Then his eyes went wide as he noticed that his suitcase had opened up due to the impact, scattering his papers and evidence everywhere. Ignoring his newfound pain and in an obvious panic, he grabbed his suitcase and ran around like a headless chicken, trying to recover every item that had fallen out, praying that the wind wouldn't blow them away.
Phoenix let out a pained sigh and leaned back on the couch. He must not have recovered everything. He had combed through the contents of his suitcase several times and no matter how many times he looked, there was no denying it: A single crucial piece of paper was missing. He cried out in anger and drove a fist into the soft leathery couch cushion sitting next to him. He had just lost the one piece of evidence he was sure would prove his clients innocence. There was no way to make a second copy and there was no time to go out and look for it, if it could be found at all. What was he supposed to do now???
Groaning, he leaned forward and put his head in his hands, letting his suitcase and the contents within them spill onto the floor. He didn't care. He was truly at a loss for what to do. Without that document, there was no way for him to win the case. And although the judge was easily swayed by people's opinions, there was no way Phoenix could go on a tirade about the events that had transpired after the murder without offering evidence to support his theory. No matter what approach he took, it would all come down to that one very important piece of evidence. The evidence he had lost. And frankly, the judge seemed to be getting more and more irritated with Phoenix with each new wild theory he presented to the court.
It wasn't until he leaned back once more that he noticed a small, light weight on his chest. It appeared to be coming from his shirt pocket. Feeling curious, he sat up again, unbuttoned his jacket and stuck his hand in, feeling around inside. His hand came out holding a folded piece of paper. Unfolding it, he breathed a long sigh of relief. The paper was the exact evidence he thought he had forever lost only minutes earlier. Then his memory kicked in as he realized what had happened. He knew the evidence in question would be too important to just leave in his briefcase, so he had stuck it in the pocket of the shirt he was going to wear for the trial. He had done this in the wee hours of the night before and had obviously forgotten about it the next morning.
He hastily stuffed the paper back in his shirt pocket and started taking long breaths, trying to relax himself. He looked at his wristwatch. Nine-thirty four. Nothing to do now but sit and wait for the police to bring in the defendant for the case. Wordlessly, he got up and started collecting his belongings that had fallen out of his briefcase.
He was alone this time; Maya had caught a mild cold three days before thanks to standing too long underneath a cold showerhead, which was the only substitute for a raging waterfall, and decided she wasn't feeling up to participating in a courtroom scene. Phoenix hadn't complained. This meant he'd actually have the time to think before a trial started without someone yelling in his ear all the time about every little thing. Not, of course, that he didn't like Maya. Maya was a wonderful human being, and always had a way of exhibiting that kind of childlike exuberance that most adults just seemed to lack. It was indeed refreshing. Too much of it at one time, however, and it just became annoying. So, in Phoenix's case, he would just enjoy the silence while he had it. He really didn't need her teasing him today, not when he had something to look forward to…
Suddenly, the doors to the lobby entrance opened and a short, balding man looking to be in his fifties entered, holding a suitcase in his right arm. The man wore a vanilla white shirt with a dark red tie and wore a matching gray jacket and pants. On his head he wore a pair of white sunglasses, opaque from the outside, so no one could see his eyes. He seemed to be in a slight hurry. Suddenly, he stopped moving and turned his head, looking around in every direction, trying to get a feel for his location. Once he realized where he was, he took his free hand and slapped his head.
"Darn it! I entered through the wrong door again…"
He had only meant to mutter these words, but he was loud enough to get Phoenix's attention. The lawyer stopped what he was doing as his face contorted into a weird facial expression. Something about the voice he had just heard seemed…familiar, somehow. He slowly got up from the floor and turned around, facing the source of the voice. Likewise, his movements caught the attention of the other man, who initially thought he was alone in the room.
Upon seeing each other, the two recoiled in surprise. The other man's reaction was more startled than Phoenix's, who dropped his suitcase and jumped about one foot backwards.
"Gaaahhhh!!! It's you! What are you doing here?!" he screamed in a slightly high pitched, squeaky tone.
"You…I know you…" Phoenix said, pointing at the man cowering across from him. "You're…you're…who are you, again?"
The other man seemed to shrink away dejectedly at the spiky haired lawyer's comment. "Urrrgh! We meet in court three times now and he still doesn't know my name."
"Huh?" the lawyer asked, not hearing what the man had said.
The man straightened up and took a deep breath. "How could you not remember my name? Don't you remember that I was the prosecutor in your first case? How I was the one who started you off on your path to glory and fame? And here I thought for sure you were grateful to me."
Phoenix brought his hand to his chin, looking deep in thought. "My first case? All I remember from that case was that it ended pretty quickly. But what does…?"
"You don't even know who I am!" the man shouted, looking offended. He balled his hands into fists. "And I remember you quite well!"
Phoenix's eyes went wide. "What? You do?"
"Sure, I do!" He pointed at Phoenix, finger outstretched, much like the attorney himself would do. "You're Phoenix Wright the Pink-Shirt!! You were the defendant in that case six years ago! The trial against that rookie attorney, Mia Fey! That was the first trial I lost! Because of her, I was faced with a humiliation I will never be able to forget in all my years as a prosecutor! I even lost my hair!"
Phoenix was taken aback. All of a sudden, here was this man, yelling openly at him for reasons he could not understand. He wasn't sure how to respond to this. Shrugging, he said, "Well, I know this might not be the best thing to say but you still have some hair left. It's not all gone."
Pretending not to hear his comment, the man's face started to go red. "That lost trial was a real blow to my self-esteem, you know. Ever since then I've been trying all I can to get back at you, to beat you in a trial. All while trying to blot out the embarrassment of my defeat!"
I…I see…" Phoenix stepped back. "Are you the type to hold a grudge, Mr…?"
"Oh, and rest assured, I'm doing much better now! With each new case I take on, though I don't win every trial, I'm getting just as confident as I was before that rookie beat me." The man cackled almost maniacally. He pointed at Phoenix once more. "Mark my words, Mr. Wright! Soon enough you will learn to fear and respect the name Winston Payne!!!"
Upon hearing the man's name, Phoenix went deep into thought. "Payne…Payne…where have I…?" All of a sudden, he was hit with a moment of realization. He pointed at the bespectacled man. "Wait a second! I DO know you! You're…you're that panicky prosecutor, aren't you?"
Hearing this, Payne felt deeply hurt. "How?! How is it you don't remember me? I was the prosecutor in your first trial, for crying out loud! Doesn't that make you feel at least a little nostalgic?"
The spiky haired lawyer shrugged again. "Well, forgive me for saying this, but I guess that trial just wasn't very memorable to me, despite the fact that I was defending one of my best friends," he said, apologetically.
Hearing this comment, Payne seemed to shrink away. "Oh," he said. All of the colour had drained from his voice.
Realizing he may have crossed a line, Phoenix looked thoughtful again. He needed to think of some way to cheer the man up. After a few seconds, his eyes lit up, as an idea had apparently struck him. He leaned on Payne's right shoulder, trying to act friendly.
"Well, this might not be much, but there is one thing I can say for certain. Thinking of it now, you have to be one of the more down-to-earth prosecutors I've ever faced."
"Um…what?" From his tone of voice, Payne wasn't sure whether to take Phoenix's comment as a compliment or an insult.
"Oh, I tell you," the lawyer continued, "you have no idea the kinds of prosecutors I've faced. I've faced a stuffy, stuck up friend of mine who likes to forge evidence, an old German guy who bears resemblance to Dracula, a psycho teenager girl with a whip and a masked man who has an almost unholy obsession with coffee. You're pretty much the most normal prosecutor I've faced so far."
"Uh…" the prosecutor was at a loss for words. Phoenix stepped away and looked intently at the balding man.
"I mean, look at you! You're a sharp dresser, you have confidence in your abilities, you don't wear a cravat, you're not obsessed with perfection, and you don't launch into any sort of obscure, incomprehensible tangents. Most of all, you're not afraid to admit it when your wrong. Man, if every prosecutor was like you, I'd have a much easier time in court."
"Mr. Wright, that wasn't a very nice thing to say," Payne said, staring at him, brows furrowed. "Are you this impolite to other people, too?"
Hearing this, Phoenix scratched the back of his head, feeling ashamed of himself. "Sorry. I guess I crossed a line, there," he said.
"Mmm…" Payne folded his arms and gave the attorney a hard stare.
"Look, all I mean to say is that out of all the prosecutors I've gone up against, you don't seem to have any quirks that set you apart from others. Like I said, you look normal."
"That just means we haven't faced off in enough trials together," the prosecutor quipped. Then all of a sudden, he looked curious. "Do…do I really give you that impression, Mr. Wright?"
"I mean, like I said, you dress normally, you present yourself normally, you carry a normal briefcase…do you see where I'm going with this? You're…normal. I mean, considering everything I've seen in these courtrooms up to now, and although I don't completely remember you, facing off with you is kind of a…nice change…"
"Hmm…" Payne scratched his head. Should he take this as a compliment or an insult? He wasn't sure.
"I mean," Phoenix continued, "If I had to name off anything about you that seems weird, it would be your glasses. I mean, they look like normal glasses as well, but I can't see your eyes through them."
At this, Payne's eyebrows raised slightly. "Oh, yeah. I get that a lot. That's because these aren't just glasses. They're sunglasses."
"Sunglasses…white sunglasses?" Taking the new information in, Phoenix looked surprised. "Oh, so they're…"
Payne smiled. "…nothing more than a simple fashion statement. But I like them, and that's all that counts." He looked at his watch. "Well, if you'll excuse me, Mr. Wright, I must be off. I have a case to prosecute in a few minutes. Watch yourself when we meet in court again, huh?"
"Whatever, Mr. Payne. Have a nice day." Obviously not wanting to give him a benefit of a doubt, Phoenix waved good-bye to the bespectacled prosecutor and returned to gathering his things off of the floor.
…when out of the blue, a thought crossed his mind, which made him realize something. Quickly, he turned around to where Payne was leaving. He was fortunate, as the gray-suited man hadn't left the room, yet.
"Hey! Wait a minute! Mr. Payne?"
Payne stopped in his tracks. After waiting a few seconds, he turned around to face his rival. He had a nervous expression on his face.
"…Yes? What is it?" he said, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice, but failed.
"You know, I just realized something. Now, this might also be because I don't remember you fully, but I don't think I've ever actually seen your eyes before."
Payne's eyebrows shot up on his forehead. "O-Oh, really? Well…that's no big deal, is it? They're just eyes, after all. Everyone has them: you, me, my wife, your mother…"
Phoenix, slightly taken aback by his reaction, continued on with his conversation. "Even so, it's gotten me curious. I've never seen them so I thought I'd just ask: what colour are your eyes, anyway?"
"…" Payne looked at Phoenix with a blank stare.
All of a sudden, there was a great flash of light, as every colour that Phoenix could see suddenly inverted (except for Payne himself). It stayed that way for a split-second, and then everything when pitch black. Then, just as suddenly, several metal chains shot out from all corners of the darkness, crossing in front of Payne's chest and behind his back, giving the impression of a man trapped in between two chain link fences. After a few seconds, a single red lock the size of a CD case appeared where the chains passed themselves, about where the prosecutor's heart was.
Phoenix gasped. To a normal person, they would be wondering what the heck just happened, but to the spiky-haired lawyer, he knew what was happening all too well.
"A…A Psyche-Lock?!"
This was the power of a certain item Maya had given him during one of his cases: the Magatama. Associated with the ever-mysterious world of spirit channelling, the Magatama had the power to see into people's hearts and see their secrets, hidden under lock and key. If a person had a secret, the chains and locks would appear. By presenting the correct sort of evidence, one could unlock one of the red locks that hid away a person's secret. After cracking the person enough, all of the locks would break and the secret would be revealed. Only the one with the Magatama could see these 'locks'.
However, this power of secret spying came with a price. Presenting the wrong kind of evidence, or presenting something that did nothing would hurt the one doing the spying. This wasn't just physical pain, this was the kind of pain that would course through the spirit, cracking it. And if he pushed himself too far, it would shatter completely and permanently. It seemed unfair to Phoenix, but at the same time he knew he should expect nothing less as punishment for his trespasses. Forcibly prying into people's hearts without their consent was just about one of the worst things a human being could do. One had to use extreme caution when using the power of a Magatama.
Payne frowned and put his hands on his hips. "You know, Mr. Wright, I just thought of something: as human beings, we're always trying to learn new things about each other. We do this because it feels fresh and exciting, and because it's something we don't know about. It's a new discovery! And when we do learn these new things, it's no longer new. It loses that freshness that we all look for from others. …That being said, if I told you what colour my eyes were, there would be no discovery left between us. So does it really matter that much, you think?"
Phoenix took a tentative step back, sweating profusely. There was no way in the world he could have seen this coming. Since when did Payne have a secret like this? He bit his lip and looked at his left pants pocket, where he kept the mystical item hidden from human eyes, remembering what Pearl had told him: If you don't think you have enough evidence, you must have the courage to stop.
"I can't do this! I don't have enough evidence!" Even though he was only thinking this, he meant it with the utmost sincerity.
As if the trinket was able to hear his thoughts, there was another huge flash of light. When his eyes adjusted, Phoenix saw that he was back in the lobby again. All of the chains that were protecting Payne had vanished and the large red lock was nowhere in sight.
Payne waited a few more seconds for a response. When no response came, he smiled. "I didn't think so. Now if you'll excuse me, I simply must be off." He picked up his briefcase.
Phoenix raised his arm. "W…wait! Don't go…" he said, without thinking. The presence of a Psyche-Lock on the balding prosecutor was clearly bothering him.
Payne, on the other hand, just smiled smugly. "If knowing the colour of my eyes is that important to you, then why don't you pay a visit to the Prosecutor's Office, later. I'm in the eighth room on the second floor. After my trial, I'll be there all evening. Just don't be disappointed when you find that my answer will still be the same. Good-bye, Mr. Wright."
Then he waved at the attorney and disappeared out the door. Phoenix sat down on the couch and furrowed his brow, deep in thought.
"Payne has a Psyche-Lock. I never would have expected to see something like that from him, of all people. Is it that important to him to keep the colour of his eyes hidden away from the public like that? Or is he just toying with me?"
It occurred to him that he would usually only use the Magatama to break down tough witnesses because the information they withheld from him would be vital to his case. Thinking about it, this was the first time where someone's secret had nothing to do with a case.
"That's another thing. As I said to myself once, I don't really want to pry into people's hearts unless I absolutely have to. I don't actually have to do this. If I were to pry into Payne's private affairs, it would most definitely be considered trespassing, this time. …Then again, it always is, but this time, whatever information I'll get has nothing to do with a case. Is it really worth it? Prying into someone's heart…for nothing?"
He thought about it for a good couple of minutes. Then he frowned further, a feeling of determination washing over him. He stood up and looked towards the door where Payne had exited.
"Even though I'm not one-hundred percent sure of this, I can't let this information control me, like it is. Since Payne has this secret of his, that's just one more thing he can use as an excuse to lord himself over me. And I, for one, am getting tired of being pushed around by every single prosecutor I meet. It's high time I put my foot down."
It was decided. There was no turning back. He would go through with this. Then, he remembered what he was doing. He looked at his wristwatch again. Nine-forty six. Correction. He would go through his trial first, and then after that, he would spend the afternoon collecting information that would help him on his new 'investigation.' He smiled. He was definitely looking forward to this. It might even be fun!
April 22, 8:30 PM
Prosecutor's Office
Floor 2, Room 8
Payne mentally berated himself as he sat as his desk. He had lost another murder trial. How could he once again have let this happen? Too late did he realize that the principal witness he had summoned to testify was the actual murderer. That revelation had come to him as the witness was forced to alter his testimony for the first time. Of course, he couldn't object to his own witness' testimony. That would draw suspicion of the court onto his case and to his career. People would say things like,
"He's a veteran prosecutor and he can't even make his witnesses testify truthfully? Huh. Some veteran."
As he continued filling out more legal documents, it occurred to him that this sort of thing seemed to be happening in a lot of his trials, lately: making the actual killer testify, even though he didn't know it. It never used to happen at all. Back in his day, he was known as the ruthless 'Rookie Killer'. Up and coming defence attorneys eager to get their hands dirty in the courtroom, to show their stuff, would be brought to their knees, crying and begging for mercy after Prosecutor Winston Payne was through with them!
Knowing that these lawyers would be fresh out of law school would give him the perfect opportunity to remind them how difficult it could get in the courtroom. Those who didn't have their facts straight would be cut down to size in the worst way possible.
Now, it was true that, against some of the more seasoned defence attorneys, Payne wouldn't be much of a threat to them. Still, no matter whom the attorney, Payne had made quite a name for himself in his own right. He was cunning, tactful, sneaky, manipulative, full of confidence and a little sexist, too.
This, naturally, was why it came as such a shock to him when he was defeated in court by Mia Fey who, at that time, was a rookie attorney. He had been defeated in court not only by a rookie, but also a woman. As described to Mr. Wright earlier that morning, it shattered his confidence and his ego, as well as made him lose his hair.
This made him think back to his more recent trials again. Although his confidence from his glory days was beginning to return to him, he still kept losing more trials than he won. Today's trial was nothing more than a painful reminder of that fact. He kept on with his paperwork, trying to forget about his current thought patterns, but no use. He stopped his hand from writing, sighed wistfully and looked up towards his office door. Maybe it was time he started looking for a new line of work, or retire altogether. No matter which way he thought about it, he knew it wasn't going to be much longer before he lost his edge altogether. And there was nothing he could do about it.
"… … …!"
Suddenly, his eyebrows rose up, as his depressing situation seemed to vanish into thin air. Without a word, he put down the pen he was writing with, stood up and walked around his desk towards the door. He had only just opened the door when a rather familiar index finger appeared in front of his face, mere inches away from his nose. Naturally, he was taken off guard by this.
"Gaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!! What the heck?!"
He was so surprised by this that he actually fell down backwards. He hit the ground and scuffled away, his back coming to rest up against the front of his desk. His reaction to the finger was met by a sort of embarrassed laughter from the other side of his office door.
"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you there, Mr. Payne."
In a moment of realization, he recognized his finger-pointing visitor as one Phoenix Wright, a man he presently was not on good terms with. Clearing his throat, he scrambled to his feet, adjusted his tie and wiped away any dust that may have appeared on his clothing during his little falling act. He was clearly not amused.
"M-Mr. Wright," he said in his nervous, high pitched tone of voice resembling anything but condescension, "I may not be an old-timer yet, but I know I just can't stand that kind of shock to my system much longer. What were you trying to do, give me a heart attack or something?!"
Phoenix grinned sheepishly. "Uh sorry, sir," he said, apologetically, "You see, I gave this a lot of thought and decided I would take you up on your offer, earlier…"
"Ugh…what?!" Payne said, wincing slightly.
"You remember, don't you? You said if I was that interested in finding out your eye colour, I should come back here at some point, today." Phoenix gestured to himself. "Well, here I am! And I'm going to find out what colour your eyes are!" He put his hands on his hips, feeling pleased with himself. He had expected a look of shock and surprise from the other man, but was met with the simple, dead-set response of:
"No, you're not."
"No need to be in denial, sir," Phoenix waved his finger at the prosecutor, much Manfred von Karma had done to him so many times during the State vs. Edgeworth trial. This meant he was undaunted by Payne's response. "You provided the challenge to me very openly this morning and, as an honourable opponent, I have accepted your challenge. No use getting out of this now! I just told you, I am going to find out what colour your eyes are!"
To which Payne said, as dead-set as before, "Again, no, you're not."
This time, Phoenix looked puzzled. "But…but why? You're the one that put this challenge on the table, and I choose to accept it! Why are you suddenly trying to get out of this?"
Payne put his hands on his stomach, with a look on his face that seemed to say he was uncomfortable. "…Because I need to use the bathroom…quite badly."
"…Oh…"
"…Yeah…" There was a rather awkward silence as Phoenix moved out of the way of the doorway, allowing the prosecutor to swiftly scoot by him in the direction of the nearest washroom.
A few minutes later…
Prosecutor's Office
Floor 2, Room 8
"Maybe I was only imagining things…Wait…Yes. I'm sure of it! I WAS imagining things! There's no way I actually saw Mr. Wright anywhere near my office. All things considered, what reason does that man have to come to MY office, of all places?"
Payne was still in the men's washroom, standing with his back up against the wall nearest the door. From his office, he still wouldn't be seen. At this moment, he was convinced that what he had just he seen was nothing more than a bad daydream, or a hallucination. He took a Kleenex out of his coat pocket and mopped his brow, which seemed to be sweating more and more by the second. He knew exactly where this was going if he was wrong.
Taking a deep breath, he straightened himself from the wall and went through the washroom door, back into the hall. Sure enough, Phoenix Wright was standing in the hallway, just outside his office, holding his briefcase which, at the time, Payne hadn't noticed. Phoenix noticed the prosecutor, smiled, and waved nonchalantly. Payne sighed, and slowly made his way back to his office.
"Mr. Wright," he said, weakly, "when I said you should pay a visit to my office, earlier, I wasn't actually being serious. What do you have to gain by coming here?"
Phoenix smiled. "The knowledge of your eye colour, of course."
Payne sighed again, pushing past the spiky-haired lawyer and into his office. "I…see… So you're serious about this, huh? Close that door, will you?"
Phoenix followed the prosecutor into his office and obediently shut the door behind him. "Well, you seemed anxious to leave without telling me, so I just naturally got intrigued, that's all." He shrugged and smiled.
The balding man gave him a hard stare. In the light, his 'sunglasses' seemed to flash momentarily. "And you know my response from this morning still hasn't changed, right?"
The defence attorney held up a hand to stop him. He was still smiling. "That's okay, sir. I think I might be able to guess why you prefer to keep your eyes hidden."
Payne gulped. Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead again. "But that's impossible! No one can do that! Not even…"
"You'll tell me if I'm on the right track, right?"
Payne sighed again, looking anything but calm. "You're not giving up on this, are you? …… …Well, I…suppose I could, but…"
"Then you have nothing to worry about. Don't worry, if you'd prefer to keep this a secret, then I won't tell anybody. I give you my word as a defence attorney!"
"…Why don't I feel the least bit reassured?" The prosecutor's response was automatic.
Phoenix glared at him. "All right, Mr. Payne. Time to see what this Psyche-Lock business is about. I mean, it's EYE COLOUR, for crying out loud! …This guy must get embarrassed easily…" Without another thought, he stuck his left hand into the corresponding pant pocket and took out his Magatama, which seemed to be glowing rapidly. (The closer the item was to a person with an undiscovered secret, the faster it would glow.) Payne noticed this hand movement, saw the item and became suspicious.
"Mr. Wright, what is that?" he asked, pointing at the object with uncertainty.
"Oh, this? No, no, no. Don't you worry about a thing. This'll go back in my pocket in a second. I just have to do something." With that, Phoenix brought the item up to his eye so that he could see Payne's face through the hole. Then, he stretched his arm out to its full length, still looking through the hole.
At that moment, every colour inverted and went dark again. Chain links shot out from every which way, shielding Payne just like they had the last time and the single red Psyche-Lock appeared in front of the prosecutor's heart once more. Phoenix smirked, putting the Magatama back into his pocket. He grabbed his briefcase and set it down closer to him, letting it rest on his ankle. He cleared his throat.
--Why won't you show me your eye colour?--
"Now, Mr. Payne," Phoenix began. "I guess if I wanted to find out your eye colour, I'd have to start off with your glasses (and, before you say anything, I can already tell, those are NOT sunglasses!), and why they are the way they are…"
Almost immediately, Payne's hand shot up in front of him, intent on silencing his visitor. "Stop! Stop right there!" he interrupted. "I know exactly where this is going!"
"…Huh?"
"I had a feeling you'd want to pin all of this on my glasses. You're thinking, 'I can't see his eyes through his glasses! There must be something off about them!' Am I right?!"
Phoenix eyed him with a look of scepticism.
Payne smirked, tapping his forehead as he had been known to do in court. "Be that as it may, I will tell you again: These glasses are nothing more than a simple fashion statement. I wasn't lying when I told you that."
Keeping his eyes on his opponent, Phoenix crouched down and opened his briefcase. "A 'fashion statement', you say? I'm not so sure about that."
Payne's eyebrows shot up. "Wh-what?! What's not to be sure about???"
"I don't believe that those glasses of yours are 'nothing more than a simple fashion statement'." With that, he stuck his hand into his briefcase and presented his first piece of evidence. It appeared to be a leather glasses case. He opened it and a pair of glasses very similar to Payne's slid out into his hands. "Earlier today, I paid a visit to the place where you purchased your glasses. I bought a pair of my own." He held them out in front of him for Payne's perusal. "As you can see, they match."
Nervously, Payne nodded. "Yes, they do. It's as if I had two pairs on me instead of one." He looked back at the attorney. "But so what?"
"…And you know what the really interesting thing is?" Phoenix continued, not hearing Payne's question. "I had found out that your glasses were prescribed to you. Mr. Payne, you're wearing a pair of prescription glasses!"
"Whaaaaaaaa…..???!!!" Payne doubled back in fright, but the lock showed no signs of shattering.
"Must still be too early for that…" Phoenix thought.
"What are you talking about?! You can't prove that!" Payne shouted defensively.
"What…?"
"My glasses! You can't prove that my glasses were prescribed for me!"
Phoenix stroked his chin. "You're right. There's no way I could be able to prove that your glasses were prescribed for you…under normal circumstances." After his pause, he put his hands on his hips, beaming.
"What?! What do you mean 'under normal circumstances'?!"
"Do you doubt my skills as a defence attorney, Mr. Payne? I'm not a rookie anymore; I've done some checking around." He stuck his hand back into his briefcase.
"…Checking…?"
"The reason I know that your glasses were prescribed for you…" He held up a piece of paper. "…is because of this!"
Payne strained for a better look at the paper. "What's that?"
"This is an affidavit from your eye doctor, Dr. I. C. Kleerley. He was a little vague on the subject, but he confirms the fact that the glasses you wear were prescribed for you. And he ought to, after all," he pointed at Payne. "He was the one who recommended you wear them!"
"Urk!" Payne flinched suddenly, then gave the attorney a cold, hard stare. "M-Mr. Wright! Where do you find the gall to go snooping around in people's private affairs like that?! You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"
Phoenix shrugged, putting the paper and the glasses down on the floor. "Normally, I would, but I'm a lawyer. I'm just doing my job…"
"Your JOB?! That's not part of your JOB! It would only be your job if you were doing this for some kind of case! This isn't part of some case! You're just being NOSY!" Payne was very red-faced, at this moment.
Phoenix smirked again. "Can you prove that, Mr. Payne?"
"…" The prosecutor's eyebrows shot up once more, then, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"
The scream was so piercing that Phoenix could feel a sharp pain run up his spinal cord, settling behind his neck. "Gaah!" He knew this pain well. He recognized it as his soul starting to strain. The pain could come from pretty much anywhere. This was the penalty of a wrong answer. If he kept it up, his soul would shatter. But how could this be? Payne was still reacting to his responses. Wasn't he still on the right track?
Payne stood there, breathing heavily. He looked at his visitor and quickly composed himself. "I…I'm sorry, Mr. Wright. I guess the intensity of the moment had caught up with me…"
"Don't worry about it," Phoenix said, wincing. "Just don't do it again. Please."
Payne looked dejected. "It would seem, Mr. Wright, that I can't prove that your nosiness is not part of a case."
The D.A. held out his hands in front of him. "Don't worry about it. We're getting off topic, anyhow…"
Payne cleared his throat. "Now, I suppose you have a point. My glasses were prescribed to me by an eye doctor. But so what?"
Phoenix's eyes went wide. "What do you mean by that?"
Payne looked cocky again. "If you're saying that my glasses were prescribed to me by someone, then how do you know that the person I got them from was on the up and up? The straight and narrow?"
"Mr. Payne, what are you trying to say?"
"Listen, I'm fifty five years old. I'm getting to that point in my life where my ways are starting to become set for me. I think it goes without saying that I wouldn't just get a pair of prescription glasses unless I thought that the person supplying them was completely, one-hundred percent reliable. If he wasn't, then why would I be wasting my time with this person?"
"I…I see," Phoenix seemed a bit intimidated by what Payne was saying.
"Can you prove that the person I got my glasses from is reliable?" The prosecutor stuck out his finger right in front of his opponent's nose. "I say you CAN'T!"
For a couple of seconds, the lawyer seemed at a loss. Then, catching the prosecutor off guard, he smiled again. "Forgive me, Mr. Payne, but I think I may be able to refute your claim."
"WHAT?! I-Impossible!" Payne looked at the attorney with a look of both nervousness and wonder. "C-can you really do that???"
"Yes I can! And this is how!" Phoenix stuck his hands into his briefcase once again, this time pulling out two profiles. He gave one of them to Payne. "I want you to take a look at this person, please."
Immediately, Payne recognized who he was looking at. "Why, that's…that's my wife!"
"Yes. Your wife, Myna Payne." Phoenix chuckled, despite himself. "Now, if you look at her picture, you see she's wearing a pair of glasses. Glasses that look very similar, in fact, almost identical, to yours."
"Um…yes," Payne looked uncomfortable. "Yes, they look exactly like mine."
"Now, I want you to think about this very carefully," said the attorney. "If you're saying that your glasses are from an unreliable source, then why is it that your wife is wearing a pair that's exactly like yours?"
"Um…" Beads of sweat were once again starting to form on the prosecutor's forehead.
"You see, I paid your wife a visit earlier today, and found out that she's about three years younger than you, and she says she got her glasses shortly after you got yours. She got them at Dr. Kleerley's office, the same place where you got your pair, she said. Kleerley, uh, ahem, clearly…" He stuck his finger out at the prosecutor. "…this proves that you did, in fact, think that this person was one-hundred percent reliable!"
"Waaaaaaarrrrrggghh!!!" Payne was beginning to feel cornered.
"And that's not all! Not only did you recommend them to your wife, but you also recommended them to your daughter, Cryden Payne, as well!" He presented the other profile. "See, she's wearing those glasses, too."
Payne had a look that said he desperately wanted this conversation to end. Suddenly, he was hit with an idea. He looked at the profile of his daughter. "Mr. Wright, I'm curious. Just how did you know I have a daughter?"
"What?"
"Now, I just want to say, you're right, I do have a daughter. She's in Ivy University studying to be a defence attorney, like you. But, even so, there's no way you would've known that unless someone told you about her already."
Phoenix seemed unfazed about this line of questioning. "Your wife told me about her…"
"I mean before that! Before you talked to my wife!" Payne interrupted. "So, Mr. Wright. How did you know I have a daughter? Tell me."
Phoenix felt like slapping his head. He knew Payne was trying to get off topic, but he couldn't mess up here. If he did, his soul would start to strain even further. He had just walked into a trap on his own admission, and now he had to get out of it. He thought hard for few good minutes. Suddenly, the answer came to him out of the blue. He stared at his opponent, smiling.
"I admit, for a few seconds there, I wasn't exactly sure. But I do remember hearing that you have a daughter." He pointed at the prosecutor. "And YOU were the one who told me!"
"What! Impossible! When?!"
"It was during Mia Fey's first trial…"
He didn't know what had happened. It was all a blur. One minute he had the trial in the palm of his hand. The next minute, he could feel his chances of victory slipping through his fingers like so many grains of sand. And then, before he knew it, the witness had confessed her guilt. Before he knew it, he had lost the trial, and to a woman, no less. …And before he knew it, he had lost his hair. It was all too much to bear. He didn't know what to say. He didn't even react when the judge had spoken to him. All he said was,
"This can't be happening…It's a nightmare! It's like losing to my daughter…"
"Oh…" Listening to what the lawyer was saying, Payne could feel his stomach lurching. If this kept up, he didn't know what was going to happen. There was only one thing he could thing of doing. "Ok, so after I lost to Ms. Fey, I referenced my daughter's skills as an attorney. But how do you know that?"
This time, Phoenix really did slap his head. "Are you kidding me?! There's no way you're getting me with that one! I was the defendant in that case!"
Payne suddenly looked very tired. "Yes. Yes, I suppose I did know that…"
Up until now, Phoenix had been eyeing the single Psyche-Lock, expecting it to shatter at any moment. However, through all of his questions and answers, the lock wasn't shaking, not even the slightest bit. This meant that he was still nowhere near close to breaking the lock. It was driving him nuts. He had never seen such a difficult Psyche-Lock before. "Damn it! What does it take to break this thing? Man, I wish I had a crowbar…"
All of a sudden, Payne thrust his hands out in front of him, indicating that he had had enough. "That's it. I just can't believe it. I've sat down and listened to everything you've told me and seen everything you've shown me, and I must say, your deductive reasoning is beyond anything I've ever seen in a defence attorney. My daughter could learn some things from you."
Phoenix was taken aback by this…compliment? "Uh, thanks…?"
"You've proven that my glasses are prescription, you've proven that my doctor recommended them and you've proven that I like them so much that I recommend them to my wife and kid." He glared at Phoenix suddenly. "But, as I've asked so many times, so what?"
Now Phoenix was taken aback for an entirely different reason. "Um, now what do you mean?"
"You may think you have me cornered, but you forgot one very important thing: Does the fact that my glasses are prescribed mean that I need them for anything at all?! You certainly can't know that, now can you?!"
The attorney honestly did not know how to respond to this. "Um…"
"PEOPLE WITHOUT EVIDENCE SHOULDN'T OPEN THEIR MOUTHS, MR. WRIGHT!!!!" the prosecutor shouted. At that moment, Phoenix could feel another searing pain coursing through his chest. At the same time, he was tasting blood. Through the reflection of Payne's glasses, he could see that his mouth was bleeding. His soul was straining even more, now. Gripping his chest, he forced himself to continue. He wasn't giving up, now. But he knew that he couldn't take too much more of this.
"Oww! That's not fair! You didn't give me a chance to answer!"
Payne became cocky again. "No, I suppose I didn't. But it's just as well, because that question is impossible to answer. Wouldn't you agree?"
"He's not going to let up on me, now. I think I'm gonna have to approach this from another angle…" He cleared his throat. "Well, you're right. I can't know what your reason is for having your glasses, but I think I may be able to take a guess. Let's…suppose for a minute that you weren't wearing your glasses."
"Ahh, days long since gone by…" the prosecutor remarked wistfully. He immediately came back to attention. "But what do you mean by that?"
Phoenix reached down into his briefcase and pulled out what appeared to be an eye test chart. "I got this chart from Dr. Kleerley. He said he had loads of them kicking around his office. Anyway, Mr. Payne, tell me: If you weren't wearing your glasses, could you see ANY of the letters on this chart? Even the big ones?"
"Umm…" The sweat was starting to slowly trickle down Payne's forehead.
"Better yet," the lawyer suddenly threw the chart down on the non-existent floor and started darting around to all corners of the darkness, imitating a monkey. "Would you be able to see me? Would you even know what I'm doing?"
Payne gulped. It took a second before he could find the courage to answer. "I…I suppose not, Mr. Wright…"
All of a sudden, the red lock on Payne's chest slowly started to shake. Phoenix noticed this straight away. "A-hah! Finally! Now, we're getting somewhere!" He walked back in front of Payne. "So you admit it: if you didn't have your glasses, you'd have a hard time seeing me!"
"…Yeah…" Suddenly, the prosecutor looked at Phoenix with a look that seemed to suggest hopefulness and anxiety. "So…so what does all of this mean, Mr. Wright? What conclusions can you draw from all of this, huh?"
Phoenix stroked his chin again, deep in thought, all the while eyeing the red lock and the way it was shaking. "Well, if I piece together everything I've seen and heard up to this point…" he pointed at his opponent again. "I can conclude that the reason you wear your glasses is because you suffer from some kind of visual impairment. Quite a nasty kind, too."
Following this statement, two things happened: the lock started shaking faster, and the sweat beads on Payne's head became more plentiful. "A visual impairment, huh?"
Phoenix smiled, putting his hands on his hips. "Yep, that's what I said. Something wrong with that?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out." The prosecutor was speaking in a tone of voice that seemed to say that he knew where this was going. "I just want to know one thing, Mr. Wright…"
"Yes?"
"How! How can you possibly know that my eyes are as bad as you say they are? There's no way you can prove that, can you?"
Listening to his tone of voice, Phoenix noted that the prosecutor didn't seem to be fighting back anymore. He was really near the end of the line, now. He could feel it. With a slight smirk, he reached down and pulled up the spare pair of glasses again.
"Mr. Payne, something has been bothering me about these glasses." He put them on and suddenly felt woozy. "Whoa! I don't know how you can see out of these…" He took them off. "Anyway, in the split second I was wearing these, what could you tell by looking at me?"
Payne gulped. "I…I couldn't see your eyes…"
"Exactly!" Phoenix held his pair of glasses out in front of him. "From the outside, the glasses look like they're opaque. As if I'm looking at a pair of sunglasses. You couldn't see my eyes. Well, sir, it's the exact thing the other way around. Because your glasses are the way they are, I can't see your eyes. This is how I deduced that you have a problem with your eyes. If you didn't have a problem, you'd be wearing normal, see-through glasses and I'd be able to see them just fine. You wouldn't be trying to hide them for whatever reason."
"Ugh…" Payne wasn't sounding very well at this point.
"So, to conclude, you have a problem with your eyes and are using a special pair of glasses to keep it hidden." He pointed at the prosecutor for the last time. "This is why you won't show me your eye colour or your eyes, period!"
There was a long moment of silence between the two men. For a small length of time, nothing could be heard except for the sounds of the Psyche-Lock, which was shaking and rattling rather violently, now. Payne sighed. He looked the attorney in the eye.
"…Mr. Wright…your powers of deduction are incredible…I know now that I could never be a worthy challenge to you in court…you're too good for the likes of me…"
With that last remark, the single Psyche-Lock finally shattered like glass, and the chains protecting Payne from his intruder's cold, hard stare disappeared back into the darkness.
--Unlock Successful--
"Is…is that it?" Sensing that something wasn't right, Phoenix looked around. The lock and chains had disappeared from sight, yes, but his surroundings curiously hadn't reappeared yet. Everything, as far as he could see, all he could make out was the colour black. He was suddenly brought back to attention when Payne started speaking again.
"And…and even knowing that this problem exists, you still want to know the colour of my eyes?" His tone of voice hadn't changed.
Thinking about it, Phoenix started to feel a little guilty. Had he gone too far this time? After all, he had just learned that Payne had some kind of problem with his eyes, which was why he kept them hidden, and here he was harassing him with evidence and wild theories, as if they were facing off in court. Again, it wasn't like this information had anything to do with a case…
The defence attorney sighed. "Mr. Payne, I can't help but feel that I've crossed a line, but I've come so far, already. Maybe you could find it in your heart to let me have one really quick look? I can't see what harm could come of it."
There was a moment of silence as Payne thought long and hard about the lawyer's request. During this silence however, Phoenix couldn't help feeling a little nervous. He thought back to the moment the lock and chains disappeared. Something definitely didn't feel right now, and the feeling seemed to be coming from…Payne? Somehow, the lawyer felt himself going on the defensive when the prosecutor focused his attentions back on him.
"One really quick look, huh? …I don't see why not, then. You've certainly earned that after all you've gone through. All right. Go ahead.
Payne stood up straight, with his hands at his sides, stopping any attempt to resist. Phoenix looked at him for a few seconds, not knowing what to do. Then he realized, Payne was giving him the okay to take the glasses off himself. He was being allowed to do this? Steeling whatever nerves he was feeling, he slowly edged towards the prosecutor; his hand tentatively reached forward towards the man's glasses until he was tightly grasping one of the handles. He slowly pulled them off…
…and was so shocked by what he saw that he lost his footing and fell over backwards. "Gaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!"
Looking closely, he could tell that Payne's eyes were closed. However, there was one big problem with this. The line that came from viewing both eyelids closed, for some disturbing reason, ran vertically across his face, instead of horizontally. Phoenix sat there, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging wide open. What the heck was this all about? He could feel the emotion of fright taking over his body as his heart started beating faster.
"Your…your…" Phoenix tried to speak, but was unable to get the words out. He was frightened by this turn of events. Even as he pointed at the sight before him, his arm was shaking violently.
Payne had a look on his face that said he was confused by the lawyer's reaction. "Something wrong?" he asked. Then he caught himself and laughed as if nothing was wrong. "Oh, I'm sorry. You wanted to see what was behind my eyelids. I'm such a kidder, aren't I? I'll stop messing around, now."
With that, he opened his 'eyelids', making Phoenix feel even more alarmed. There were no eyeballs visible at all! Instead, all he could see were two holes in the prosecutor's head. Additionally, lined up across the length of the lids, he could see these small triangular objects that looked quite sharp. There seemed to be a sticky substance stuck in between a few of them. It dawned on him quite suddenly and horribly as the identity of the objects were becoming clear to him.
"Are…are those…t…TEETH?!"
His breath got caught in his throat once more as two small, purple tentacle-like things came out slowly from the eye-holes, one to each hole. On the ends of the tentacles were some very small and hard-to-see beadlike objects. Phoenix brought a hand to his mouth. He looked like he wanted to throw up.
"Now you understand, Mr. Wright," Payne said, feeling very calm, "why I choose to wear the kind of glasses that I wear. You normally don't see people with eyes like these, right?"
Petrified by the sight in front of him, and petrified even more still that the sight appeared to be talking to him; Phoenix could do nothing but nod his head vigorously. He noticed still that when Payne was talking, his canines in his mouth seemed to be triple its normal length.
"Ah, I remembered something," the prosecutor said, without warning, "When you told me that I had gotten my glasses prescribed to me from Dr. Kleerley, you said something interesting. You said he was 'a little vague on the subject.' You remember saying that?"
Thinking back to his earlier conversations almost against his will, Phoenix could remember saying something like that at one point. Remembering the context in which he said it, he nodded his head again. All while not making a single sound. He was too frightened to speak.
"Yes, I thought you would," Payne smirked. "The obvious reasons are these!" He motioned to both of his 'eyes'. "In order to get glasses that were the strength I needed I couldn't exactly hide these things, now could I? This was why I suggested he add a kind of opaqueness to the outside of the lenses. The man was more than happy to comply." He patted one of the tentacles as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Phoenix opened his mouth, but was unable to speak clearly, much less form coherent words at all. He was so scared of the sight in front of him that he couldn't even find it in himself to stand up. His heart sank when he saw Payne's facial expression change from happy and calm to stern and serious.
"Unfortunately for you, Mr. Wright," he said slowly, "by revealing to you my eyes, I have broken my one biggest rule, to keep these babies hidden." His brow furrowed deeply. "Now that you know my secret, I'm afraid I cannot let you leave this room alive. So sorry."
His eyes wide, Phoenix willed himself with all of his might to edge backwards towards the door. He looked behind him, and was shocked once more to see absolutely nothing. His surroundings still hadn't returned to him after the Psyche-Lock process was finished.
"Trying to escape? I don't think so." The balding man said, not moving.
Out of nowhere, several chains descended out from the darkness and weaved their way around Phoenix, binding his hands, arms and legs together, preventing him from moving any further. They also completely covered his chest. Then, huge red locks appeared everywhere around his body. The lawyer could do nothing but watch in horror as this happened. He turned back to the prosecutor, who had started taking a few menacing steps forward.
"Ehee hee hee hee hee hee hee…" he laughed, devilishly.
Phoenix could feel his head spinning. All of this happening at one time was too much for his system. Out of all the possibilities he could've imagined after removing the prosecutor's glasses, not once did he figure that this would be what was waiting for him. He found himself desperately wishing he could just take everything back. He wished he could go back in time. Anything to get away from the situation he found himself in. It was at that moment where he found the strength to speak. He blurted out the only thing that was on his mind at that point in time:
"You…you have no eyes!!!!"
Silence hung in the air for a brief moment. Payne stopped inching forward and looked at his victim with a confused expression on his face. Phoenix felt like slapping himself. What he had just stated was the obvious. He knew it was pointless to say such a thing, but considering his mind state, it was the first and only thing he could think of saying.
The prosecutor seemed to be wondering what on earth the defence attorney's statement meant, when he suddenly clued in. A vicious smirk spread across his face.
"You say I have no eyes? Sorry, I misunderstood you for a second there. You must mean I don't have any human eyes. Well…" he sneered, "that's where you're wrong, Mr. Wright!"
"Wha…?" Now Phoenix was the one confused.
"I have all kinds of human eyes on me. I keep them all in my briefcase."
"WHAT?!"
Payne slowly ambled towards his suitcase. He grabbed it and held it upside down, hands grasping the combination locks. He smiled nonchalantly. "Here, let me show them to you."
He opened his briefcase and out spilled literally hundreds and thousands of human eyeballs. Small eyeballs, big eyeballs, slimy eyeballs, eyeballs of different colours. They continued to spill out over a large part of the non-existent floor almost completely burying Phoenix, save for his head.
The attorney could no longer take it. He sharply turned his head to the right and threw up. He was then horrified and nauseated to see that the partly digested food was not disappearing underneath the balls at all.
"Aw, this is all too much for you, isn't it?" the prosecutor said, pretending to feel sorry for him. He frowned deeply and barred his teeth, his large canines staring the livid attorney in the face. "Don't worry. You'll be dead in a couple of seconds so it won't matter. Ehee hee hee…"
Phoenix eyes went wide one last time, as without warning, Payne pounced forward, closing the gap between them. Knowing he could do nothing else, the spiky haired man of twenty seven let out a loud scream.
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh……"
"…GUH!!!"
The next thing the attorney knew, he was in a dark room. It was so dark he couldn't see a thing. Frantically, he stuck his hands out, trying to get a sense of where he was. He felt around. He felt his forehead. Damp. Sweat, probably. He felt his neck. A pulse. So he was alive? But how? He thought he had just been killed!
He hands went down to hip level, where he could feel a soft cottony object. It seemed to be a sheet of some kind. Feeling around even further, he noticed the 'sheet' was covering his entire body. Or, his legs, at any rate. He seemed to be in a sitting position.
Which was when he came to a startling conclusion:
"W…was…was that a…dream?! Was I dreaming?!"
Soon enough, his eyes became adjusted to the darkness, where he realized his assumptions were correct. He was lying in his bed, in his apartment. He checked a table clock that had been hanging around his nightstand. It read 3:32 AM.
"Whoa. Late. …ungh…"
He brought his hands to his temples. Apparently the 'dream' he had just experienced was so real to him, that it made him get a headache. Without another word, he laid his head back on his pillow, afraid of closing his eyes. He was still in quite shock from before and it took him until four ten until it finally went away, where he closed his eyes and drifted off in a deep, dreamless sleep.
Actual Date: February 7, 9:12 AM
District Courthouse
About six blocks away…
Phoenix and Maya were walking alongside each other towards the District Courthouse at a leisurely pace. They both had a trial to attend. This time, Phoenix was up and on his way at seven fifty six in the morning and, since it was much earlier than his normal departure time, found he had the opportunity to walk to work for once instead of running full tilt. To add to this, Maya had actually shown up at his apartment for once instead of meeting him at the courtroom, so the two of them could enjoy a nice walk together.
Maya was her normal, chipper, enthusiastic self. Phoenix, on the other hand, was still tired from the night before, so it was hard for him to drag himself into his usual attire and be on his way. It also didn't help that his headache still lingered, even after he had taken a Tylenol. To make matters worse, Maya had shown up at his apartment before he had even woken up. Her failure to get him up right away had resulted in her poking his right cheek with a broom handle repeatedly until his eyes finally opened. As a result, he was in a pretty foul mood. Throughout the entire walk, he just stared ahead, a vacant look on his face.
And now, just as their walk was beginning to come to a close, Maya finally took the opportunity break the silence. She stared at the lawyer with a curious, confused look on her face.
"Hey, Nick," she began, "you've been really silent since we left your apartment."
Phoenix didn't answer her, and instead kept staring ahead as if the teenager hadn't said a word.
"…I mean, you're usually a quiet guy, but for you to stay silent for this long without even talking to me means one of two things…"
Still no response.
"…One: you're tired, or two: something's on your mind."
Still nothing.
"…And if you ask me, it simply CAN'T be because you're tired. I mean, I know I have a habit of staying up late sometimes when I visit you, but like you always tell me: a good night's sleep is important. Not enough sleep can really mess you up."
Finally, she got his attention. Without turning his head, his eyes moved over from the scenery ahead to the girl walking next to him, feeling exasperated. The girl was honestly sounding like his mother at this moment.
Maya continued on as if nothing had happened. "So it just can't be that. That must mean that something must be on your mind." Without warning, she grasped his arm and stared into his eyes, a pitiable, puppy-dog-eyes look on her face. "Am I right? Oh, won't you tell me? Pleeeeease?"
Phoenix sighed, exasperatedly. "Maya, it's too early in the morning for this. I have a trial coming up in less than an hour, so I have to stay focussed. It's hard enough doing that without you acting like a nine-year old."
At this, Maya jerked away, letting go of his arm. She frowned and puffed out her cheeks, a signal to Phoenix that she was annoyed and upset about…something. "So you won't tell me? Oh, you're horrible!"
Phoenix sighed again, although this time it was a sigh of resignation. He knew it wouldn't do him any good whatsoever if he made Maya upset, especially over the smallest of things. An upset Maya meant that she would pester him for hours on end until he finally cracked and gave in, and he certainly did not want that!
He looked ahead once more. "If you must know, I had a nightmare last night and found it very hard to get back to sleep afterwards."
"A-HA," the young girl shouted, back in good spirits. "I knew it! There IS, or rather, there WAS something on your mind!" She looked at him playfully. "You know it's no use keeping secrets from me, Nick! You know this."
This prompted a grunt from the attorney. Not hearing it, Maya put her left index finger to her chin, lost in thought.
"But what could be on your mind so much that you would have a nightmare about it, I wonder." To her, she sounded curious. To Phoenix, he just knew she was teasing him. Before he could respond, the girl brightened up once more, a somewhat devilish smile playing on her lips. "ZVARRI! You don't have to tell me. I already know what it is! I-R-I-S!"
"…What?" This wild claim finally got his full attention. He turned his head so it was facing the energetic spirit medium. He thought she was going crazy.
Maya snickered, quite pleased with herself. "Well, I'm right, aren't I? Iris, the girlfriend of your past, haunts your dreams so much to the point where you actually start getting nightmares about her, am I right?"
"…" Phoenix did not know what to say to this.
"You know, Nick, it's usually not a good thing when that happens. Maybe you two need some time apart! Hah ha ha ha ha ha!" she teased.
Phoenix turned his head away, frowning, hoping Maya hadn't seen the fact that he was blushing. He turned back when he felt a light punch against his shoulder.
"Aw, cheer up, you big baby. You know I'm only kidding. Don't be like that."
"Hmm." Phoenix stared ahead once more lost in thought. In actuality, almost one complete year ago, Iris had admitted to her crime in the murder of Misty Fey, Maya's mother. Thankfully, she was not the one who did the killing, however she had tampered with the evidence by moving the body and altering the murder weapon, as in, stabbing the body with the Shichishito. For this, her penalty was a year in jail. And her sentence was to be finished in three days.
Phoenix was ecstatic and hopeful. Even despite everything that had happened between them seven years ago, deep in his heart, he knew he still had feelings for Iris. And he knew she felt the same way, too. Since her sentence, he found himself making frequent visits to the detention center. He wanted to see how she was doing. He wanted to talk to her more often. He wanted…to make up for lost time…to see her. He couldn't stand being away from her. It was the same way the other way around, too.
They began as monthly visits, then became every two weeks, then weekly, and then a few days within the week. As her sentence neared its end, they started to become daily visits. He made a mental note that he had to make time to see her today, too.
Coming back to reality, he looked back at Maya, feeling slightly angered. "Maya, I'm trying to decide whether you just crossed the line, there. I think you did."
Maya looked at him as if he was being a baby. "Aww, can't take a joke, can you? Come on, Nick. I just said I was only kidding."
"Yeah, well…w…waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!"
"Wah!" All of a sudden, Maya jumped back as Phoenix let out his little scream of fright. Surprised and caught off guard, she turned in the direction in which he was screaming. It was here where she noticed a strangely familiar old man. The man, who was just as scared as Phoenix, let out a similar scream as the attorney. This then caused both of them to tumble over backwards, dropping their briefcases in the process. Thankfully, neither of them opened.
For the next moment, it was as though both of them were looking into a mirror, as simultaneously, both men leaned forward, their index fingers stretched out in front of the other person. "I…it's you!!!" they both screamed at the same time.
Maya stared at the balding man, unable to get the feeling of familiarity out of her mind. She pointed at him. "You…have we met before? I feel like I know you from somewhere."
Phoenix wasted no time. Keeping his finger outstretched, he blurted out the first thing on his mind. "Y…you're Winston Payne!!!"
"Get away from me! I…wait…" the man straightened up, adjusting his glasses. "Wait, y…you remembered my name. You actually remembered my name!"
"What? Payne?" Maya looked deep in thought.
The two men simultaneously got to their feet, brushed themselves off and picked up their briefcases. Payne stared at the lawyer, surprised at his memory. Then, for a second, he looked doubtful. "A…are you sure you remember me? I mean, I remember you, but we only faced each other three times." He scratched his head suddenly. "Well, no, not three times, exactly. More like twice. The third time, you were actually a fake. Gosh, that really hit me hard, when I found that out…"
Phoenix took a deep breath. "Nope, I remember you, all right. Sure, I never saw you more than twice, but I have to say, you've left…quite an impression on me…"
Maya's eyes went wide as something seemed to come to her. "Wait! Hey, Nick, wasn't he the prosecutor in the Maggey Byrde trial? The one where you lost your memory?"
Phoenix nodded. "Yep, the very same."
Payne gasped. "Ah, so you lost your memory? That explains why a lot of what I said during that trial caught you off guard…" He suddenly looked quite dejected.
"In any case…" the lawyer butted in quickly. He definitely did not want this conversation to last. "I admit I don't remember that much about you, Mr. Payne. But rest assured, in your own way, you've…left your mark…on me."
"Oh, um…is that so…um…thank you…" Payne seemed uplifted by that comment, but looked a little nervous as well. After a few seconds of silence, he looked determined. "Mr. Wright, make no mistake. I will beat you in court someday. I mean it!"
"Uh…I guess we'll see about that…"
What followed was a rather awkward silence, as both men stared at each other. Try as she might, Maya could not understand what was going on. She hardly knew this man, and she remembered Phoenix telling her the same thing, that he just wasn't that memorable as a prosecutor, or as a person. So, why was it that Phoenix suddenly remembered the old man's name? It seemed kind of out of the blue.
Before she could think any further about it, she was brought back to reality as Phoenix grabbed her wrist and pulled her in the direction of the courtroom.
"Ow! Hey Nick, that hurts! What's the big idea?" she nearly shouted.
"We've got a trial in just over a half-an-hour, Maya. We're gonna be late if we don't hurry," he replied, plainly. Nervously, he turned his head behind him and waved to the prosecutor. "See you around, Mr. Payne."
"Yes, you too, Mr. Wright…"
He waited until Maya had wrenched her wrist free from Phoenix's grasp. He waited until the two of them were walking side by side once more. He waited until they were about a yard away. Then, ever so suddenly, he reached into his briefcase, pulled something out of it, and threw it towards the attorney. The object didn't hit him, but rather, it hit the back of his briefcase and stuck there. It was a big, slimy human eyeball. The lawyer didn't even notice its presence.
Payne stood there, not moving. He looked on after the two. A smug smile slowly found its way onto his lips. And finally, from behind his glasses, a small, purple tentacle with a beadlike object on the tip tentatively rose up, keeping itself out of sight from others.
"Make no mistake, Mr. Wright. I'm keeping my eye on you. …Pardon the pun. Ehee…hee…hee…hee…hee…hee…heeee…"