white peony

by Elly Van Houten

Phoenix knew that Miles had his own path to follow, and yet... -set immediately after the first Ace Attorney. Slash warning-

Ah, yes, that night...the night that Edgeworth left. More specifically, the night before he left. I remember that night well...after all, I was there.

It's not like I went to gloat or anything. That would have been in poor taste, considering the man's world had just crumbled all around him. Miles Edgeworth...somehow, I'd always believed he was strong enough--rather, cold and callous enough--to break through the swirling rumors and carry on. In fact, it had worked for him for years. But this time was different--everything he had believed in as a prosecuting attorney had been challenged, and for the first time, he was forced to take a look at himself and ask what his true purpose was.

I remember what he had told me during the trial in which he had become the accused. His hatred for criminals had driven him to become a prosecutor. It had begun with the DL-6 incident, where for many years he'd mistakenly believed he was responsible for the murder of his father. He'd become a prosecuting attorney "in part to punish" himself, he had said. But I sometimes wondered if he was still punishing himself in order to offset the rumors about him forging evidence and basically going to any lengths to get a guilty verdict. After all, if you're dead inside, then nothing else can hurt you, right?

But...no. It's just a thought. A thought I may have taken more seriously than I should have. Edgeworth wasn't dead inside, no matter what he said, and it took me a long time to realize that. Even when Detective Gumshoe and Maya would keep insisting I feel something for the man, who had been holding all his pain inside, I would hesitate. I don't know why. He was an old friend, and you're supposed to feel something for friends when they're in pain. Even if...you felt like they had betrayed your trust along with everything they had led you to believe...a person in pain deserved to be consoled.

And that...was my reason for being there.

---

It was about ten o'clock at night when I reached the parking lot. I know that because, while passing security, the guard berated me about that. After explaining to him that I was there to discuss a very important matter with a friend, he got off my case, so to speak. I didn't have time to waste chatting with him; there was somewhere I had to be. I've been accused of being simple before--once I put my mind to something, I see it through to the end. And this was definitely something I had to see to the end, if only for his peace of mind...or mine.

The twelfth floor of the building was completely deserted, soft moonlight illuminating the halls where there were windows. There were also some emergency floor lights every few feet, but not enough to light a room. They were, however, sufficient enough to lead me to the office of the high prosecutor. I started to knock but then stopped, seeing the door was ajar. I put my hand on the knob, sticking my head into the room as I pushed the door open.

"Edgeworth...?"

There was no response. He didn't seem to be in the room, so I decided to wait for him. I stepped inside and closed the door, hanging up my overcoat before scanning the room. A single desk lamp illuminated the place, causing the surface of the desk itself to give off a sharp glare. I had to spare my eyes. My gaze traveled to the couch, which was covered by a couple of large throw blankets. A familiar suit with ruffles had also been tossed there, as though a certain someone had planned to take a shower. But that was strange; Edgeworth's office did indeed contain a private bathroom, but the lights were off and the door was open. Perhaps Edgeworth had changed and...no, no. I didn't feel like speculating about that.

I looked down then, my eyes coming upon the space beneath the desk. They stopped there for an eternity, though it didn't take long for me to recall the significance. That was where a startled Edgeworth had dropped his letter of resignation the day Ema and I barged in on him. I remembered it like it was yesterday. Of course, it helped that it had been yesterday.

I continued staring as though fascinated by the floor. That letter of resignation...it was the culmination of all the rumors and the grudges that had been mounting since the SL-9 incident. Things that were not at all Edgeworth's fault, and yet, he had taken full responsibility for them. When the truth came to light during the trial, I thought it would have been enough for him to know it had all been part of a terrible plot. At least, I thought it'd make him stop beating himself up over unknowingly using falsified evidence in that old trial. But unfortunately, he was still clinging to shame when it was all over. I could see that much in his eyes. Even though I told him in my own way to not let the ordeal ruin everything for him, he was determined to take that fall...all by himself.

Great. Now I was sad. And I was supposed to be cheering the guy up. I shook my head as if to shake those depressing feelings, but it didn't do much good. I could still imagine him now, writing the letter, his hand stiffly moving across the paper, the way those shadows were moving across that floor.

Wait a minute. There was nothing that would cast a shadow through the window, and yet, something was moving, and it definitely wasn't me. But...if it wasn't me, then...no. No, it couldn't be...

"Edgeworth? Are you in here?"

There were more shadow motions, followed by a clinking noise. "Huh...hmmm?"

Well, it was good to know he was as prompt and coherent as ever.

For a second, I was concerned. Why was he over there on the floor, moaning like that? Was he hurt? Did someone exact revenge on him for something? Granted, that wasn't too uncommon in this profession, but the thought made my heart skip a few beats. After all, it was the last thing he needed. In this last trial, he was already being attacked on all sides, even in court, a place that had always been his stage, an area operating beneath his genius. Anyway, I had to know that he was all right, physically as well as mentally. Nothing was worse than having your day go from bad to...well, just plain awful.

I made my way past the couch and toward the window to check, but no one was there. However, an overwhelming smell invaded my nostrils, prompting me to find the source. But before I could do that...

"Wright. Is...is that you?"

I whirled around to see him sitting on the floor, slumped against his desk. He was holding a short, round glass with an even shorter, thick stem, staring at the dark amber liquid within. I was compelled to ask if he had been drinking something containing alcohol, but there was no need. From this distance, he reeked like a marinated steak. One hundred proof. Not to mention, he was sitting there in his underwear. Huh. They looked like silk boxers, probably imported from some European country and costing about six months' worth of my salary. Once a sophisticated jerk, always a sophisticated jerk. It was just too bad that sophistication wasn't at all compensating for the pathetic thing I was seeing before me. A broken man, pushed to the brink by jealous stares and the rumor-fueled trainwreck of misguided hatred. I felt sorry for the guy. After all, I knew what it felt like to have the whole world against you for something you weren't even responsible for.

"Edgeworth..."

"Huh..." He was breathing loudly, apparently not at all uncomfortable with the drawer handles that were pressing into his back. "So it is you."

"What do you think you're doing, Edgeworth?" I demanded.

Despite being totally inebriated, he did not break character. "Huh...I should…I should be asking you that. Who let you in here?"

"You left the door open."

His unsteady hand guided the glass back to his mouth, and he took a prolonged sip. "And...you think that gives you a right to just barge in? I don't recall summoning you."

I would have gotten angry, but I knew he was only being a jerk because he was drunk. "Edgeworth...how many of those have you had tonight?"

"Hmm..." He started to shift positions as if trying to find the perfect one to complement his normally cool demeanor. But being dressed only in a pair of boxers and slurring, he was failing miserably. "Let's see...one or two..." His legs seemed to be all over the place, flexing, rising, straightening, lowering, forming an awkward spread eagle; they just couldn't decide where they wanted to be. And while Edgeworth was feeding me his feeble responses, he would strike an unintentionally obscene pose from time to time. "...or five. Maybe more. One tends to lose count after a while, you see..."

I could see, all right. I could see that apparently all boxer shorts were created equal. I was definitely turning red, though I couldn't tell if I was more embarrassed for me or for him. "E...Edg...Edge...c...could...y..."

"What? My head's spinning, Wright. You'll have to speak...more clea--"

"Cover yourself!" I finally spat out. I removed my jacket, throwing it at him. It wasn't a perfect landing on his lap, but at least it was enough to spare me the sight.

My actions only served to amuse the man, as they always did. "What's the matter, Wright? Do you think someone else will take a jab at me, even in this condition?" He gave me a glare before tossing my jacket aside. "Thanks for the concern, but I told you, this is my problem. Stay out of it."

I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised at how clueless he was being. Thankfully, his comments were more than enough to help me get over my embarrassment. "That's enough of that."

"Huh?" He was no longer looking at me, but instead keeping his gaze to the floor.

"You keep saying that it's your problem, it's your problem. But that's not true."

"Oh? Do you know of any other prosecutors presently under fire from just about everyone in town? The chief prosecutor excluded, of course."

"That's not what I mean, Edgeworth. You keep acting like you're alone, and that no one else is allowed to help you with your problems. But I thought that, if today taught you anything, it's that you aren't alone! You've got friends, and being friends means we have a right to be involved in your problems!"

"Ha ha ha..." He took another swig, chuckling into the glass. "Ha ha ha ha ha ha. Fuck you, Wright. You're so naïve sometimes, it makes me sick. Everyone has their own path they must walk. Being a friend doesn't give you the right to be a hindrance to that path."

Ouch. Well, that hurt. "...So I'm just a hindrance to your path. Is that what you're saying?"

Edgeworth gave a drawn-out sigh, as if to prove that very point. "Listen...Wright...what you have to understand is-- urgh--" His face contorted without warning, and he dropped the glass.

I knew that look, but it was too late to do anything about it.

And sure enough, a moment later, the contents of the man's stomach were being unwillingly ejected, spewing out at full force from his mouth and nostrils. Pinkish chunks and golden brown fluids splattered his torso and legs, as well as the floor. He coughed violently and gagged, another round of vomit loudly following.

I was in shock. I guess the man couldn't hold his liquor.

My next thoughts went to who would be responsible for cleaning the mess. The only other person who was there, anyone would have deduced. My initial shock transformed into total disgust, and I knew exactly what to do. Without a word, I approached and grabbed him by the arms.

Edgeworth seemed startled as I forced him to his feet. "Wha...guh...what are...what are you...?"

I guided him across the room--well, more like, shoved him--until we reached the bathroom. I would have been impressed by all the fancy brass and polished marble inside, but at that moment, I couldn't have cared less. When we reached the shower, I opened the glass door and threw him inside, boxers and all. "Get in there!" I shouted, almost shaking. It wasn't the angriest I'd been in my life, though it came close.

Edgeworth stumbled and fell onto the floor, grunting.

I reached in to grab the handle marked "C" and turned it around all the way.

"Ugh...aaaaarrrgh..."

The cold seemed to be a bit of a shock for him. Good. He deserved this.

"Wright..." Edgeworth turned around, still sitting on the stone tiles of the shower floor. "Ugghhrk..." He gurgled and raised his arms as if to shield himself from the water, but to no avail. It was quickly soaking him from his hair to his feet, washing away the foul-smelling stomach paste. "Urrgghh...what do...what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm helping you, Edgeworth," I declared, though a bit more emotionally than I would have intended. I doubt he would have noticed, though. "Because that's what friends do. They help other friends."

Despite being blasted by a jet-powered stream of water, he still managed to find all the humor I did not intend in my words. Yes, even then, he was laughing. "Simpleminded, goody two-shoes..."

The insults easily got under my skin, but then, I was still pissed. "Yeah? So I'm simpleminded, am I?"

"Always, always...hahaha...and incredibly unsophisticated..."

"What, and just because you have 'class,' you think it makes you better than me? Take a look around, Mr. Miles Edgeworth. I'm not the one on the shower floor, puking my guts out. And simpleminded or not, I'm the only one who'll put up with you right now, and as far as I'm concerned, you could show a little gratitude!" With that, I shut the glass door, storming out of the bathroom.

I was feeling pretty sorry for myself as I reentered the office, so much that I almost didn't notice the trail we had left up to the bathroom. More specifically, the trail Edgeworth left behind as whatever he had consumed and regurgitated spilled down his legs. Great. So it was all over the bottom of my shoes now. I would have to find something to clean up the mess. I was sure Edgeworth or the maid kept some paper towels and disinfectant around. I took another trip to the bathroom, where Edgeworth was still moaning in protest. I ignored him and searched the cabinet beneath the sink. Bingo. Paper towels, bathroom supplies, spray cleaner, trash bags, extra towels. I took what I needed and returned to the office. If he wanted the bathroom cleaned, he could do it himself. There was enough of a mess out here.

"Oof..." As I lowered myself onto the floor, the crack in my knees was so loud, I was almost certain the idiot in the shower heard it. Ouch. I knew I should have worked out more between cases, or taken up yoga or something. Even the simple act of kneeling was slightly painful.

And then it hit me. I was on the floor of Edgeworth's office...cleaning... the... damn... floor. I'm sure that if it had been any other time, he'd be enjoying this. I never hated him more than I did at that moment.

Well, not really. He was a friend no matter what, and I know he played an important role in my life, whether or not he truly wanted to. He was just so damn frustrating at times. I didn't know whether to slap him around or to give him a hug in his difficult time. If it were me, I'm pretty sure he'd be inclined to do the former. But his intentions would have nothing to do with hatred, but would stem from a desire to keep me from being something that wasn't useless.

Useless...

I had made it all the way over to the desk when this awareness, too, hit me. It's true that I was worried about Edgeworth. I didn't want him to freak out and make a rash decision where he would only end up hurting himself. But...at the same time, it was really bothering me that nothing I said to him was turning him around. It was making me feel...well...pretty useless.

There was a string of sharp grunts and coughs from the bathroom, and I could only surmise that Edgeworth was still sick. Good. It served him right for making himself that way. I was so mad, I could only hope he slipped a few times trying to get up too.

As I cleaned, I discarded the soiled towels into the spare trash bag I had taken from the cabinet. When I was done, I tied the bag and threw it aside. Oddly, I now found myself in the same spot I had discovered my ever-sophisticated friend. The glass he had dropped miraculously had not shattered, so I set it aside before sitting down. It didn't take a genius to know what he was thinking about when he began emptying his liquor cabinets. Feeling like the whole world was against you was enough to bum anyone out. I knew better than anyone. But on top of that, he had confessed to losing sight of himself, and of his role as prosecutor. He no longer believed in himself; he was too frightened after having seen examples of men who were once like him, and how they turned out. I could understand, but...

I knew deep down that he was a far better man than von Karma or Gant. It was just depressing that I couldn't convince him of that. With a sigh, I buried my face in my hands. At this point, I didn't know whether to give up or try again. Edgeworth did keep insisting that it was his problem. Maybe on some levels, that made sense. But this was Edgeworth, a guy so wrapped up in his pride and his guilty verdicts, that he couldn't see the truth of what he was.

Speaking of being wrapped up inside one's pride, I had been so wrapped up that I hadn't noticed the familiar stench filling my nostrils. I immediately lowered my hands, certain I had cleaned up all of the mess. And then, I saw it in the light--the traces of vomit that had gotten on my hands, either during cleaning or while dragging Edgeworth across the room. How revolting. And now it was all over my face, too.

Just then, there was a loud squeaking, followed by the absence of running water. So he hadn't fallen asleep in there. That was good, at least.

I was back on my feet the moment Edgeworth came back into the room. He was soaking wet and shivering, awkwardly holding a towel around his waist. There were a few suds in his hair, which was a pretty sad sight, but I suppose I should have just applauded his effort. At least the stench was gone.

It was taking all of his energy just to stand straight, let alone walk. I quickly went toward him, just in case he wouldn't be able to make it. "Edgeworth..."

He lifted his head slightly, making no eye contact with me. "Wright? Why...are you still here?"

"I told you," I said firmly. "I'm not leaving."

"Heh..." Edgeworth turned slightly, marking the couch as his destination. "I seem to...recall...something like that..." There was a sudden limp in his step.

Without missing a beat, I moved forward, catching the man's fall. His head toppled into my shoulder, soaking my shirt.

"Wright...I just...this is where...I'm..." He trailed off.

There was something hard pressing into my leg. That was no mystery; he had inadvertently released the towel during the fall. Heh. I would have been flattered, but I'm sure he never even realized. He was no longer in a state to even explain himself; he had passed out, now breathing softly against my neck. It was a warm feeling, almost comforting, and I could smell the lavender from the suds in his hair...but...something about this was just...wrong. Yeah, I felt something for him, there was no doubt. After all, it was he who inspired me to become an attorney. Him and Larry, but especially him. I would always be grateful. But if I was ever to cross that line between gratitude and...something more, this wasn't the way.

I carefully brought him over to the couch, laying him down on his back. I then went to retrieve the towel--which was, on closer inspection, every bit as purplish-red as everything else in the office--and did my best to wrap it around his nakedness. I propped his head on a pillow, and used the two throws to cover the rest of him. I had forgotten to move his suit out of the way, but I'm sure it was no big deal. He was going to get it cleaned anyway, right? Or...er...I hoped he was.

Over the next three hours, I kept my promise. I stayed to watch over Edgeworth, though I did leave the room once to wash my hands and face. The rest of the time, my butt was making a nice home in Edgeworth's chair. It was a nice chair...nice, just like everything else in his office. Of course, he had money to burn.

I remember once, very briefly, we speculated how different our lives would be had we walked the paths of one another's careers. I laughed about that now. It was one thing to fight for what you believed in, but I seriously doubted anyone would give up this comfortable lifestyle of silk and sports cars. I'll be honest. Once I'd had a taste of all this, I'd have a hard time giving it up myself. This was probably the only chance I would have to experience any of it, so I decided to make it count. What was it like to be Edgeworth, to be stuffy and stuck-up and "sophisticated"? To have a fancy desk and a ladder for what looked like a miniature library? To have expensive toys and five thousand dollar suits and drink loose leaf teas imported from all parts of the world?

I looked down at the desk, noticing that even the stationery looked expensive, personalized with gold text. This had to be a joke. Oh well. I couldn't break character now. I moved my hand, plucking the feather quill from its stand. He probably jotted down important things all the time, important reminders and favors owed to people. I figured now was a good a time as any to help the guy out.

'Dear Mr. Edgeworth,' I wrote, trying to sound as formal as possible, 'it is my regret to inform you that...'

Yeah. I was making it up as I went along. Typical me.

'...at 10:32pm this evening in the high prosecutor's office, there was an unfortunate victim of an upchuck-splashing, requiring compensation of an undisclosed amoun--' Oh, screw it. It just wasn't me. I tore off the expensive-looking sheet and crumpled it up. Forget the pretentious language. Time to be more direct...and gentle, of course. Always gentle on paper.

'Dear Stuffles McStuffyPants...' See? Gentle. '...don't forget to pay me $300 for the goddamned suit you hurled on.' Well, technically, he didn't hurl on it; the jacket just sort of got caught up in the path where I was dragging him, but still. 'I'm leaving it behind as evidence, since that's your thing. I'm sure it's a smell you won't soon forget. Have a nice day. Sincerely...Don't tell me you forgot who already, you ungrateful jerk.'

I tore that sheet off too with a devilish grin. Of course, I wasn't really going to hand that to him. I wasn't so broke that I couldn't afford another suit. But it was funny to imagine Edgeworth writing the check anyway.

I flipped the sheet over, writing another short message. Maybe it was a sort of apology for all the things I was thinking at that moment. But it wasn't that big a deal.

I returned the quill to its place, and then decided to take a trip around the room. I mean, I'd already seen the seven wonders of Edgeworth's office, but I was really bored. That, and...um, my butt was falling asleep.

I began by standing next to the window where Ema had made her various calculations of statistics of falling to one's death. Right. I wasn't too eager to recall those. Instead, I took in the view of the other buildings surrounding us. It was such a quiet night, almost eerily so. I was pretty sure we were the only ones in the building with the exception of security guards. Standing here made me miss my own office, its coziness and familiar feel. Here, I just felt out of place and insignificant...and every bit as useless as I did to...well, you know who.

I turned and walked past the desk, but I stopped when he came into view. I know it's creepy to stare, but I couldn't help it. I was still concerned about him...or maybe just about me where he was concerned. If that makes sense. I don't know. Everything was starting to get to me, the more I thought about it. Maybe I should have left. I knew better, after all. I didn't belong here. I didn't belong here at all...

"Wright."

I almost jumped out of my shoes. "Wh-wha--" I stammered. "Y-yes?!" Had he noticed me looking at him? I hope he hadn't...

"While you're up, could you get me a glass of water? My...head..." He brought a hand to his forehead, his face scrunching up.

"Er...of course." Just then, for no apparent reason, I found myself fretting over the man's tastes, but I didn't want to trouble him more by asking him to be more specific. There was a miniature fridge near the door, so just maybe I was in luck. I walked over and opened it, discovering an almost complete stock of Icelandic spring water. Okay, now this was definitely a joke. No sane person I knew went through this much trouble for water. Then again, it was Edgeworth...who was mostly sane, but also someone who could afford the trouble. I figured he wouldn't drink it straight from the bottle, but thankfully, there were some tumblers on top of the fridge. I filled one up and then brought it over.

Edgeworth was sitting up now, with his feet on the floor and the throws still on his lap.

"Um...here." I held the glass out to him with uncertainty, wondering whether or not he was going to drop it.

To my relief, his grip was strong. "Thank you." He took the glass and slowly downed it, only stopping when it was nearly three-quarters empty. "Very good, Wright. For a moment there, I was worried you were going to hand me city tap."

Stuck up to the end. Couldn't you at least say 'thank you'?

"I already thanked you," he said, setting the glass down.

Urgh. Had I said that aloud?

"...though to be honest, at this point, I wouldn't really care what it was," he continued. "It's just nice to have something…clear."

"Oh. I see..."

"Mr. Wright."

"What? Er...what is it?"

"I...see you stayed after all. You have my gratitude. I...can only recall bits and pieces of the last few hours, but I sense I also owe you an apology." He finally looked up at me with eyes that were slightly red. "You were right. You were only trying to be a friend, and all I did was resist your efforts and ridicule you."

"...Oh." Grr. Why did he have to go and ruin my moment? Just when I was ready to chew him out…oh well, this wasn't too bad, either. "It's...it's understandable," I said. "I mean, I'd be pretty cranky too if I was spewing chunks all over the place."

"Heh heh heh...I seem to remember something like that, too. Sorry."

"Edgeworth. Were you...were you so down that you were driven to do that to yourself?"

He seemed startled, as though I had snuck up behind him and made a loud noise. "What's with that look...? That sad puppy-dog eyes routine might work on the judge in court, but it won't work on me." But apparently it did, because he started explaining himself. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't intend for that to go as far as it did. I'm not in a very good place right now, and I wasn't thinking about anything except for that fact. I…ugh…" Again, he pressed his hand to his forehead.

I knew the worst of it was over, but I still hated seeing him like this. "You could have talked to one of us instead."

"Wright. I don't operate like you." He must have realized his tone was stern, because it then grew soft. "Really, I heard what you all said to me today. But a few words aren't going to erase past mistakes, and they won't make up for all the consequences of those past mistakes. I meant what I said. I can't go on like this."

"But…" It had to be a feat. One word, and I already sounded horribly desperate. "Couldn't you…" Oh, a definite feat. "Couldn't you just…work it through while staying on as prosecutor?"

That got a half-hearted smile out of him. "Heh heh. That's exactly what I'm talking about. I've already told you that's impossible. At this point, I can't possibly look at the role objectively while being in that role. And all of these repercussions are enough of a crushing blow."

"Edgeworth…you're nothing like von Karma. You know that."

"Do I? You know the rumors. You've even said it yourself when we first met in court...concealing the truth, fabricating evidence, conducting illegal searches...just traits of a demon attorney who would do anything to get his guilty verdict."

I could see that he was still in pain, and I regretted having made those accusations, even if there had been some truth to them. "Maybe...maybe months ago, your policy was to get every defendant declared guilty. But you changed that. Von Karma never did, so...so...so that alone makes you better than him! I don't care what anyone says. You're just not that type of person. You're the type who'll seriously consider the consequences of his actions when confronted with them...and that's why you're such a mess right now."

"Yes." He let out a sigh. "That's exactly right. I'm a mess right now, but it's still my problem. In the meantime, don't lose any sleep over it."

"Ugh." …Useless. I was useless. I couldn't face him anymore, dismissive as he was. I turned until I was facing the same direction he was, feeling his words cut into me. "I don't get you, Edgeworth," I finally said. "I thought I did, but you're just...you're just..."

"What?" he asked.

...everything I wasn't.

"...nevermind," I said. "Um, if everything's all fine and dandy, I guess I can return to my office now. Have a nice life, Edgeworth."

I started to leave, but something stopped me.

"...everything you're not," said the voice.

I turned around. "What?"

"That's...what you were going to say, wasn't it?" he asked, meeting my gaze from time to time. "I'm...everything you're not. And you're right. I don't have luck on my side like you do, and I've never relied on anyone else to get me out of a jam. At least, I didn't before I met you. Even now, the concept of constant help is a bit strange to me."

Wait. Was he saying he envied me?

"Show some restraint, Wright," he suddenly said, as though he knew my exact thoughts. "You're an open book. Your face says it all...but...yes. Believe it or not, you do bear some traits men covet...including myself. I wish I were comfortable asking for help."

So did I. And I wished he would let me help him.

Just then, he glared at me.

Yikes. What was that for?

"You're allowed to contribute to this conversation, you know," he finally said, expression softening. "I can tell you're dying to say something...so just say it."

I'd felt a sudden burst of inspiration. And then, in an instant, it was gone. I knew that nothing I said was going to turn him around. He said I was known for being simple to a fault, that once I set my mind to something, I'd see it through to the end. But...in that sense, he wasn't much different. He'd decided he couldn't continue as prosecutor, and that was a decision I knew he wouldn't budge on.

"We had some good times," I stated stiffly, a weight on my chest. "That's...all I wanted to say."

"Hm. You're a bad liar."

"Goodbye, Edgeworth." Somehow, I found the strength to leave the office...but it left me the moment I'd shut that door. Pretty soon I was on the floor in a heap, trying hard to soothe my beaten ego. My hands were all over my face, but the tears easily seeped through. I'm not sure why. I'm not much of a crybaby...er...well, now, anyway. I don't get this upset unless I get pushed far enough...but...this time, I was just feeling hopeless. I doubt anyone would understand. When I say he's the reason I became a defense attorney, I mean it. I was taken in by his words when we were children. His dream of defending those who couldn't defend themselves...at the time, it was so inspiring. He had already helped me, so I, in turn, wished to help others.

But...

Not even I could hope to help the one person who needed it the most. Yes, it hurt a lot to realize that. I couldn't help Edgeworth. After all my ambitions and promises I'd made to myself through the years, I was nothing more than that pathetic little boy who could only cry in a hopeless situation.

I didn't know how long I'd been sitting beside that door. I had no idea when it opened, either...but I was about to find out.

"Wright...?! What are you...?"

I immediately snapped out of it, almost cowering as I looked up at him. I really hated it when he caught me off-guard.

He was staring down at me, only a fraction as shocked as I was. I could see that he was fully dressed now, with the exception of his jacket. "Oh...well, as long as you're still here, I thought I'd give you this." He handed to me what looked like a scrap piece of paper.

I took it, giving him a strange look, and took a moment to study it. The scribbling on the paper seemed familiar to me somehow, and then, it all clicked. I was holding a check for three hundred dollars. It was addressed to me, and it was signed by the guy hovering over me. "What...what is...? Why are you giving me this?"

"You instructed me in your note, did you not?"

Now I was really lost. "Er...my note?"

He gave me another piece of paper, something that was definitely familiar. The note I had scrawled while watching over Edgeworth. The moment I realized what it was, I burst into laughter. I laughed so hard that even more tears were rolling down my cheeks.

Edgeworth, however, had obviously missed the humor in all of this. "I realize your salary isn't as high as a prosecutor's, but I'd appreciate it if you could refrain from mocking my ability to dispense funds."

I barely heard what he had said. The fact that he had believed the message was just too funny. "Ha ha. Ahahahaha." I was drying my face with my free hand. "I-it's not that...Edgeworth...I just...I just...haha...never expected you to take this note seriously. Oh."

"What?"

"This note was a joke! Or did you really think I'd be serious with the way I addressed you?"

Apparently, that was the case. He seemed embarrassed, if only for a short while. "Er...I just thought you were very angry."

"Yeah, I was. But how on earth did you manage to read that note while missing what's written on the other side?"

Edgeworth looked bewildered as I gave the note back to him. "I...I see. Yes, I suppose 'just kidding' would have been a clue. But I found your jacket and it's every bit of a mess as you said, so...allow me to do this much."

I was still red, but it wasn't just from all the laughing. "Um...I don't think three of these together cost that much...but if you really want to, I'll just put it toward my rent."

"I'm glad that's settled," he said before slipping back into his office.

"Oh...!" I was back on my feet. "Edgeworth! Wait!"

He reappeared a moment later. "What is it?"

"...Where were you going this time of night?"

"Huh? I have some things to take care of...that's all."

"...at two o'clock in the morning? Wouldn't you normally wait until...you know...daylight?"

"Normally, yes, but I haven't exactly been able to take care of them all day." He suddenly looked disappointed, as though I were about to catch him red-handed in a crime. "...but...I suppose you're right. Such things...can wait until the morning. At this point, I don't even feel like going home."

"Edgeworth..."

"You were leaving, weren't you? Good night." He walked back into the office, closing the door behind him.

I caught the door, following him inside. "I was," I replied, closing the door for the third time.

"Strange." He continued walking until he reached the desk, and then turned around, arms folded. "What made you change your mind?"

"You did," I said. "I was just curious...what you intend to do."

That familiar glare was back. "Wright. Let's not revisit this again. I appreciate the concern, but it's my problem. End of story. I thought even you accepted that."

I lowered my head sadly. "Yeah...you're right. I did. I just..."

...wanted to be there for him anyway.

Edgeworth looked deep in thought, as though he had heard the unspoken wish. "...I'm not going to get rid of you, am I?" he finally asked, the smirk on his mouth a hint that he was amused anyway. "Okay then, what's on your mind?"

"I thought you didn't want to hear it."

"As long as you limit it to topics that have nothing to do with 'that,' then I'm sure I can make an exception."

Yep. Completely losing his dignity in front of me did little to hinder his ability to be a complete snob. Suddenly, I did feel like speaking about anything but 'that.' "Okay," I began boldly. "You remember when I threw you into the shower and just left you there? I got a kick out of doing that."

"Heh. I'm not surprised." He wasn't at all offended, which made it harder to enjoy it. But what came next would completely take the fun out of it. "I...did mention something like this earlier, but I truly am sorry for having put you through all of that. Maybe it would have been better to have left me here, so that someone else might discover me in the morning. No doubt that would have been the better lesson."

"Don't tempt me," I said sternly. Perhaps I dreaded invoking the wrath of Edgeworth somehow, because I quickly added, "I...wouldn't have done it anyway. You, uh, didn't need anything else on top of...er..." I stopped, remembering the rules of the conversation. "Well, I'm sure that...wasn't...something you needed right now."

He let out a sigh. "There you go again, always worrying about me."

He was right, but I couldn't help it. "Maybe...if you stopped doing things to make me worry about you?" I wasn't serious, of course. Such a task was impossible for him.

"Easier said than done."

I noticed he was only half into the conversation now, obviously distracted by something else. If I had to guess, it was probably whatever thing he had been planning on doing before I stopped him. "Edgeworth..."

"Hm? What is it?"

"Um..." I had to find a way to talk about it without actually talking about it...if that was possible. "So...were you thinking of trying that French restaurant Gumshoe told you about?" Well, technically he didn't...it just happened to be printed on the back of a handwritten note. "You haven't had the chance to do that yet, huh?"

"I probably won't. I don't really have the time, and it doesn't sound very high quality. Why are we talking about restaurants, anyway?"

"Er..." Because it's hard to talk about anything else, dummy. "I dunno, maybe...uh...you need a new spot to relax? I was just making conversation."

"Desperately, I might add." He was silent for a moment, then looked at me with resolve. "Okay, Wright. You want to know what I'll do? The truth is, I haven't made that decision yet."

And that's what scared me the most. The unknown...the dreading. I'd decided then that I didn't care whether or not he threw me out of the office over a certain topic. It was really bothering me... it was... wait. Bothering me?

"Don't lose any sleep over it..."

I was already losing sleep over it, despite his warnings. The fact that I was even here now pretty much proved that. But maybe...he was right. It was his problem. And after nearly five years, it made sense to take a little time off. I'm sure he'd realize how crazy everything was and that he shouldn't beat himself up too badly. Hey, maybe everything would be all right and we'd be facing off again in a month or two. At least, I hoped so...

"I...I won't pry. Really." A weak response, because it was so hard to say. My heart was pounding in my chest, and all the blood rushing to my face was probably making me red as a tomato. I was ashamed at the way I'd been acting for the past half an hour or so. But aside from my stuttering, he probably didn't notice...yet. "You don't have to tell me anything. But...just one more thing." I sincerely wanted to wish him good luck. It probably wasn't a big deal, but he'd been through enough and deserved better than something that sounded forced or fake. I wanted him to feel like he did have a friend in the world, and I was going to tell him that face-to-face. I took a few steps in his direction. "Listen, Edgeworth, I--"

This time, he saw it before I'd even realized what was happening. He looked startled, as though I were about to drop over a cliff into a boiling volcano.

For a moment, I wish I had. I tripped on an uneven part of the floor, on that same stupid spot that caused Edgeworth to stumble earlier. Great. As if I weren't embarrassed enough, I had to go fall flat on my face, too. Oh well. As if I ever expected to make a graceful exit.

This time, however, I was at least granted a more graceful spill. I landed against something that far softer than the ground. I opened my eyes, seeing only ruffles and buttons and very dark shade of grey. It was completely unanticipated. He'd caught me...the way I had caught him earlier.

"Be careful of that spot there," he said, helping me to my feet before turning his back to me. "It's...an apparent cause of embarrassment."

Boy, did he know me. But something seemed off, as though the statement had less to do with me and more to do with him. "What's wrong?"

"It would appear...an unwanted memory has returned to me." He turned slightly so that I was able to see part of his face, but he was staring off at something else. "I was hoping it had just been part of a bad dream."

"Huh?"

"When you fell just now, I remembered everything. The same thing happened to me only hours ago. I...didn't want to believe it, but I knew I had no choice when I smelled it on you."

"Er...smelled what on me?" Great. Thanks a lot, Edgeworth. Not only was he making me feel like a clumsy jerk, but now he made it sound like I had hygiene issues as well.

"The lavender. I didn't think I had done a good job of washing it out of my hair, so I must have transferred some of it onto your clothes."

"Ah..." That's right. When I caught him, he went and passed out on me. I was almost afraid to ask about the other thing that happened, since I was starting to share his embarrassment. If he remembered tripping, chances were he remembered 'that' too. Yeah. I think it was time for another topic. "Well, no big deal. As long as you weren't hurt, it doesn't matter what happened. Hahaha. Let bygones be bygones. Really."

"Heh. Is that how you really feel, Wright?" He finally faced me, still very much abashed. "Come on. Something else happened then, and now you're deliberately avoiding talking about it."

"N-no, I'm not!" Yeah. That sure proved I wasn't. "I-I mean, there's nothing to talk about. It's not like you could control it--" Oh boy. "--I-I mean that--" Oh, this was all a bad dream. "--I mean what happened! You were completely out of your mind." Please. A noose around my neck would have been gentler.

Maybe it was my imagination, but my embarrassment seemed to somehow offset his. Little by little, he was returning to his old, confident self. "And yet, for someone completely out of his mind, I've recalled those events exactly as they were."

"So what are you saying? That you knew exactly what you were doing?!"

He shook his head. "No. You're right that I was out of it. I was just...making sure it wasn't a problem for you."

"Wh-why would it be a problem for me?!" I demanded, eyes practically bulging out of my head.

"Because your face is red and you've been talking in a loud, high-pitched voice for the past few minutes."

Ugh. I just loved all the little Phoenix-isms that managed to always give me away. "Y-yeah? Well...your face is red too! Sort of...I mean...you look all embarrassed too." Not. "Or...you did, um...earlier..."

"Heh. I suppose this is new ground for us."

"Sh-shut up! What are you saying? It's not like I was flattered or anything!" A bad dream. A bad dream. A bad dream. We weren't really going in this direction.

But...

"...I didn't ask if you were," he said, looking a lot calmer now. In fact, he was almost smiling.

...no, wait, he was smiling. But it wasn't in a devious or mocking way, it was more like...he was relieved. Pleased, even. But...about what? It wasn't as if he...

...oh...

...my...

...god...

He wasn't serious. He couldn't be.

...oh. Wait. It was Edgeworth. And that meant...I wasn't leaving the office that night until it was all out in the open. Everything. My feelings...his feelings. I...knew I had to face it all sooner or later.

"Edgeworth..." The sadness of realizing how much time I'd wasted hiding it...that was all I felt now. "The...the only reason I wasn't flattered...was because it wasn't an appropriate time. That's...that's all." Okay, I really should have found a better way to phrase that, but I didn't care anymore. "Um...you're not mad, are you?"

"Why would I be mad?"

Gee, I dunno...because every other time somebody tells you they're flattered, you act like it's some sort of sin?! Granted, he hadn't been approached by the best of potential matches, but still...

"Your honesty intrigues me, Wright," he told me. "When I talk to you, I feel like I can believe in things. That...isn't common for me these days."

I think that was a compliment. I think. As if this couldn't get any more awkward. I couldn't deny it now; I was flattered. "Oh, umm..."

"You had every opportunity to make a situation worse than it already was," he continued. "But you didn't. You treated me with respect, and only thought of my well-being." He was coming closer. "I...I really appreciate that. Thank you...Phoenix Wright."

I must have really been taking his words in, because I didn't notice the moment his hands began to touch my face. "Wh-wha...Edgewo--" Suddenly, his mouth was on mine. I suppose it wasn't a good sign that all I was thinking at that moment was how grateful I was that he had rinsed it out. He felt good, though, warm and gentle, and at the same time, suggesting some deeper yearning. I understood that feeling, that need, that desire...I'd felt it so many times before. And the more I was around him, the stronger that feeling became. I responded to it by pulling him closer, holding him as though I were afraid to let go. Maybe I was. There was so much uncertainty with him these days. He'd said he'd lost himself...perhaps one day, he would become something I hardly recognized. I didn't want that to happen, but I also knew I could no longer stand in his way.

I drew back slightly, and the hands that once caressed my face were now undressing me, undoing shirt buttons and discarding my tie. It wasn't long before I was doing the same with him. While the floor grew littered with clothing, Edgeworth guided me to the sofa where he had been resting not too long ago.

I wasn't sure that any of this was happening...but I couldn't stop. And I didn't want to. It felt so good to have him right there, if only to confirm that he truly was there. The more I touched him, and the more he touched me, the more I trembled, but for far different reasons than from what one might have guessed. Something in the back of my mind kept telling me...something completely irrational, yet solid...it told me to embrace this moment for all it was worth, because there likely wouldn't be others. Edgeworth had his own path to follow, that voice reiterated to me. I hated it, but it was a reality I would eventually have to accept.

Edgeworth...

I now realize... that I can't follow you wherever you go...

But for tonight...

...take me with you...

---

Morning arrived too quickly, it felt, the morning sun creeping slowly into the room. There were traces of activity outside of where we were, faint and indistinct.

When these external forces finally decided to interrupt the much calmer scene, we were still lying on that couch, facing one another, as naked as newborns beneath the throw blankets and tangled up in each other's arms like a couple of slumbering children.

I suppose it would have taken a more prepared mind to handle what it would have found in that office. The man's voice was familiar, and I'm sure I would have identified the visitor had I been fully conscious. I just remember feeling a comfortable warmth and hearing a cheery greeting that turned into confusion, followed by a hasty apology, rapid footsteps, and the slamming of a door.

When I opened my eyes, he was still there...Edgeworth, that is. I pulled my head back a little so that I could look at him, at how peaceful he looked after such a rough few days. Or, actually, a rough couple of years. After all, that's when the rumors began. But now, he seemed untouched by all of those, as though he had found something to make it all bearable. I smiled as I reached up and touched his hair a little, recalling an innocent comment Ema once made. Maybe I was just amused; I can't say I've had to deal with sofa hair a lot, myself.

This was one of those moments you were supposed to cherish, so I did just that...by giving him a gentle peck on the cheek...and then...a few more that weren't so gentle as I buried my face into his neck. I couldn't help it; I was just so damn content...and feeling a little naughty. It got him to finally wake up, anyway.

"Guh..." The confused utterance was followed by some squirming against me. "Wh...Wright...! Please stop. That is rather uncomfortable."

I pulled back with the best morning grin I could muster. He just looked so cute and...unamused...I'm sure the morning sunlight was responsible for the former.

"Must you grin at me so?" he grumbled, but with feigned annoyance. "You look as though you've won the lottery."

The smile on my face receded a little as I gave serious thought to his words. It was exactly how I felt that moment, having him beside me. Like I'd won the lottery. And it wasn't just feeling lucky in love, but to have reestablished the communication between us, to feel like I knew him again. I think...that was what I had been seeking these past few years.

"Anyway..." Edgeworth brushed up against me as he lifted himself to a sitting position. "What time is it? I feel like I've forgotten something."

"I'm not sure. My guess is around eight in the morning. Why, is there someplace you have to be?"

"No...not immediately." He reached up and rubbed his eyes a little, looking in the direction of the door. "Hmm. That wasn't there last night, was it?"

"Huh?" I followed his gaze, seeing a pot of tea and some cups on a tray, which was resting on top of a restaurant folding stand. "N...no. That definitely wasn't--" My heart skipped a beat. "Um...Edgeworth. Please tell me you're the only one with the key to this office."

"Heh..." He gave me an apologetic smirk. "I made a copy for the bellboy in case I'm held up in traffic. I'm adamant about my morning tea."

I hung my head in embarrassment. "So that's what I heard this morning. I thought I was just dreaming."

"Heh heh heh. Well, come on, Wright. While you're here, you might as well join me." He nudged me, prompting me to get up. When I did, he followed suit, and we sifted through the trail of clothing to claim what was ours.

"Um...what did you mean, join you?" I asked when I finished buttoning my pants. "If you're gonna give me a cup of the same crap you had last time I was here, you can forget it. That stuff tasted like gunpowder."

A half-dressed Edgeworth chuckled again, walking over to the folding stand. "Relax. This isn't the silver needle. It's something much milder...suited for even someone of your unsophisticated tastes." He took a cup by the handle and turned it over, setting it on top of its matching saucer.

"Glad to see you're back to your old charming self," I said sarcastically as I followed him. "But I'll pass. I should probably get back to my office anyway."

"Suit yourself." Very carefully, he tipped the teapot and filled the cup until it was three-quarters full. The light liquid steamed only a little. "Then this will be my morning cup." He picked up the saucer with one hand, threading the handle of the cup with the digits of his other hand. He lifted the teacup nearly to his lips when he stopped. At first, I thought he was inhaling its aroma, but then, I noticed the look on his face, some wistful expression that seemed to silently add, "my very last," to the previous sentence.

I suddenly decided I was thirsty after all. "Um...actually, I don't have to get back right away. If the offer still stands, I wouldn't mind a cup."

"Huh? Oh...sure..." He set down his saucer and prepared another cup of tea. His actions seemed mechanical, as though he were just some lowly servant performing his daily task. I knew it. He was still preoccupied with something...but I wouldn't have that. Not when this moment...was the only thing I could have.

As soon as he set down the teapot, he turned to me. "Now, Wright, make sure to be careful with thmmph--"

I'd cut him off. With a long, hard kiss. And then I broke away, awaiting his reaction...which was nothing short of stiff. And I don't mean in a good way.

"Heh. If you have time to fool around, then you have time to pour your own tea. In the meantime, as you already know, I've got some errands to run." He immediately left my side.

Yeah. That didn't go so well.

I stood there for a minute, watching as he continued to pick up the rest of his clothes. I then turned back to the tray, to the cup he had poured for me. He'd mentioned something about being careful...or at least tried to before I interrupted him. I picked up the saucer slowly, bringing the cup closer to my face. At least he wasn't lying about the tea. It wasn't very strong...and it didn't taste bad at all.

Edgeworth was passing by a mirror when he stopped and did a double-take, gawking at his own reflection in horror. "W-Wright! What in the hell did you do...?!"

"Huh?" I lowered the teacup.

Edgeworth's hands traveled to his neck, which was covered in purple-red marks. "Damn it! I can't go out like this!"

You couldn't wipe the devilish smirk off of my face. "That's what you get for oversleeping." When he glared at me, I added, "Oh, calm down. Your clothes will cover most of it, and even if they don't...well...at least it's all color-coordinated!"

"That's not funny, Wright. I really don't feel like explaining dozens of mysterious red marks to anyone who recognizes me."

"Are you really going to see that many people today?"

The question caught him by surprise. "Uh..." He turned back to the mirror and continued dressing himself. "Trust me, I'll see enough."

"Well, if they ask anything, all you have to tell them is that your good friend Phoenix gave you a licking or two." I know. A bad pun was probably the last thing he needed.

"I-I will tell them nothing of the sort!"

I was still smiling. He was just so cute when he got this flustered. "Just wear a scarf or something. It's still cold this time of year, anyway." Just then, I remembered what he had said earlier about his errands, so I decided to follow his example and finish getting dressed myself--well, mostly. I wasn't going to wear the vomit-stained jacket.

He'd finished long before I did, but he was still standing in front of the mirror, poking at the hickeys where they stuck out from his suit. They really weren't that noticeable as long as he didn't lift or turn his neck too much. But of course he disagreed.

"Hmph. Unfortunately, I didn't bring a scarf with me when I returned yesterday." He finally took a step back, dropping his hands. "I suppose I'll just have to deal with it."

"They're really not that bad."

He practically jumped in place and looked at me, completely startled. "Oh...that's right. You're still here."

"Uh..." I raised an eyebrow, wondering what he meant by that. "Yeah, I am. Did you not expect me to be?"

He shook his head. "No, of course not. I was just lost in thought for a moment."

"You seem to be doing a lot of that these days."

"Yes, well..." He walked past me and then stopped. "Well, if you're ready, then I'll walk you out."

Wow. So cold, as if this were just another routine visit from a stranger. "Gee, thanks." Despite my bitter feelings, however, I followed him over to the door. It was probably my imagination, but I could have sworn he'd swiped something from the tray as he passed by it.

"So will I see you later today?" I asked.

Edgeworth opened the door before turning to me. "I...wouldn't count on it."

"Oh." I felt disappointed. "That busy, huh?"

"You could say that."

"Then maybe this weekend? Or I could give you a call--"

"Wright," he interrupted. "I'll be frank. I can't make promises right now, but we will meet again."

I knew that speech. So it was just another one-night stand. He was only with me because I was there. "I...I see..."

"Don't look so sad, Wright," he said. "I'm sure you're a busy man, too...when you want to be."

"Uh-huh." I broke eye contact with him, heading out into the hall. It was livelier out there now...but then, it was morning. There were a few clerks wandering the halls, with maybe two or three ongoing conversations by the corners of the building and elevator. "So...I'm just supposed to treat last night as just another moment in our busy schedules? I'm just...supposed to forget it ever happened?"

He shook his head. "No. You shouldn't forget...because I can't, either." He suddenly pulled me close, and then, in front of God and everyone else in that hall, kissed me long and passionately. Considering everything he was telling me in the past few moments, I was surprised, but I certainly wasn't going to resist. I wanted this feeling to last as long as possible, even if I was yearning for more.

It felt like someone was brushing past us. I couldn't tell; I was too lost in the moment, in feeling him pressed against me, his mouth on mine. I was pretty sure some of those conversations in the hall were now including us as a topic. PDAs were generally frowned upon in public places, but then again, Miles Edgeworth knew that. And yet, he didn't care. That made me feel good above everything else.

I let him pull away first. Neither of us said anything right away; I was still savoring what had just happened.

"You know," I finally said, blushing like a schoolgirl, "If you have time to fool around, then you have time for another cup of tea."

"Ah..." His smile was faint. "I'm afraid that will be my last cup for a while. But some time into the future, I intend to have another with a very good friend of mine."

"Is that a promise?"

"It's a fact."

---

When I returned to my office that morning, I'd noticed that one of the pockets to my overcoat felt bulky. I reached in, pulling out what looked like a tiny, white paper bag. It looked like someone had packed it until it was nearly bursting. I knew what it was...one of those foil-lined bags for tea leaves. I confirmed it when I turned the bag over, seeing the label that read, 'white peony.' But...why did I have it?

"I'm afraid that will be my last cup for a while. But some time into the future, I intend to have another with a very good friend of mine."

I thought that sounded weird, but then I remembered something else. First, Edgeworth taking something from the tray, and then, that feeling of someone brushing past me...it must have been him slipping the bag into my pocket. So he was serious about his words.

At least, that's what I thought.

---

That note turned up the following day...but I didn't find out about it until a good week later. 'Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death' -- in retrospect, I should have been relieved when this message surfaced. So he was running away, after all. I should have been glad I didn't have to deal with him anymore, with the uncertainty, the worrying, my powerlessness as a friend.

Instead, as the months passed, all I felt was hurt...betrayed. It meant that all the things he had told me...and all the things I had told him...meant nothing at all. That in the end, all my efforts were truly a waste. He was supposed to choose his own path, not run away from it...and for him to just disappear like that, leaving only that message behind...to me, nothing in the world was more cowardly. And that was not the Miles Edgeworth I had known.

When I saw the bag of tea leaves a few weeks after that, I tossed it into the garbage, along with all my memories of him. I no longer considered him a friend. I refused to even acknowledge his existence. After all of that, after everything I strove to become because of him...

If death was what he chose, then he was also dead to me.