Heartlines

The heart lines on their hands never lie. – Phoenix/Maya. (Apollo Justice AU one shot, of sorts, in which Phoenix finds a lost, little acolyte from Kurain Village, and that young, spirit medium is actually the daughter of the Master of Kurain and Phoenix Wright.)

A/N: A special thanks to a very special beta, MildeAmasoj,who is also a very special friend! Thanks for all of the help and inspiration with the song "Heartlines" by Florence and the Machine, and always helping me improve my writing and pointing out my stupid mistakes and help me with my titles! I'm blessed to have a friend like you who can put up with me all of the time!

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is copyright © 2016 Turnabout Writer. All rights reserved.


"Just keep following the heartlines on your hand . . ."
–Heartlines, Florence and the Machine

Every hand has a set of lines on it, unique for every person, just like fingerprints. The line of life, the head line, and the heart line.

When Phoenix was a child, his mother brought him to a hand-reader, who had showed him how his heart line was long and definite. He was lucky, the old gypsy woman had said. He was lucky, because that meant he'd fall in love only once, but it would be a truly deep and all-encompassing love.

At a point, he'd been convinced his Dollie was the woman of his life. That their love would be as definite, deep and long-lasting as the line crossing his palm. (He had noticed and found it odd that sometimes, Dollie's heart line would change. Or rather, it would disappear altogether. But he hadn't thought much of it, until he had found out about Iris).

He had been proven wrong, however, and the disillusion that had filled him in the aftermath of the disastrous case that led him to meet Mia pushed him to believe that the words of that old gypsy woman were just the talks of fantasy and she had just been trying to scam him and his mother.

The day Phoenix Wright had bought his first pack of Snackoos had been the day he had been able to realize that the palm-reader had not been lying.

It had been an eventful day, really – even before she had stumbled into him, Edgeworth, and Ema in People Park. Apollo and Trucy had gotten into a fight over who was to clean the toilet. Apollo was already angered as it was, since Trucy tried to make his attorney's badge disappear, again; though, honestly, as he had donned a lawyer's badge at one point in his own life, Phoenix couldn't have blamed his subordinate's fear and irritation. On top of that, he had already been late to his . . . meeting, of sorts, with Chief Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth and Detective Ema Skye – one could have called it a reunion between old friends, really, but they had been going to meet with a goal in mind: to somehow determine a way for the imprisoned Simon Blackquill to prosecute with his convict status.

It would be the only way to rid the justice system of the dark age of law.

Fortunately for Phoenix, who had stopped at a grocery to buy a pack of Snackoos at her request, Ema had been running late, as well – needless to say, Edgeworth had been irked with the both of them; he was already annoyed as it was that Ema and Phoenix had insisted on meeting here, in this public, noisy park, at this location, specifically. Miles Edgeworth had not appreciated the fact that they had agreed to sit at one of the park's stone chess tables, with the filthy, distasteful, faded chessboard printed on it. He was less with Ema, though, as she held him in high esteem (and also because she had been late since she had stopped to grab some coffee for herself and Phoenix, and a steaming hot cup of tea for him). After handing out the beverages and exchanging pleasantries, Ema had sat right down onto the wooden bench next to Edgeworth and started their meeting by pulling out a copy of Athena Cykes's flight itinerary. Thank goodness Edgeworth had been so insistent on wiping down the stone top, or else they would have sat on a rather unpleasant pigeon dropping and ruined their suit.

It was when Edgeworth and Phoenix had been discussing the pros and cons of allotting Ema as his main detective, leaning towards the cons, that Phoenix spotted a little girl in a familiar purple robe, wandering around, crying, in his peripheral vision.

His mind immediately flitted to Maya and her clothing, but then instantly rebuked himself for the thought. Not every girl who wore a purple robe was a Kurain spirit medium.

"Come on, Mr. Edgeworth!" Ema whined. "Please liberate me from the glimmerous fop!"

Edgeworth crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't understand the problem with keeping your current position, Ema. I recall that he used to pester you a lot in the beginning, but you've mentioned that since you comforted him after Kristoph Gavin's execution, your jabs at each other are now mostly amicable." His index finger tapped impatiently against his forearm.

"Yes, I comforted him for the sake of humanity, and we can tolerate each other more than before, but that's mainly outside of work! H-He is still relentless when we work alongside each other, though!" Ema spluttered, her hand frantically running through her hair. "He's not a bad guy, but I don't know how much longer I can put up with him! And, plus, Mr. Blackquill needs a detective! I can pair up with him!"

Edgeworth sighed. "Ema," he began quietly, "you're planning to retake the certification test to become a Forensic Investigator soon, right?" She nodded, so he continued on. "So, I'm sure you can handle working with Prosecutor Gavin for just a few more months, yes? I trust you to be patient enough with him."

Ema pursed her lips. "Well, I suppose I could put up with Gavin for some time more. I'll see if Detective Fulbright is willing to transfer to him from Prosecutor Gaspen Payne. After all, Mr. Edgeworth, if you have so much faith in me, then who am I to – ?"

"Guys," Phoenix interrupted, holding up a hand, but his gaze never leaving the child. "Hold on." He got up from his seat at the stone chess table, and walked towards the girl. Ema stood up and followed him, forcing Edgeworth to exhale and place the papers scattered on the table neatly into his briefcase and rise from his seat as well.

"Hey, there," he greeted softly, when the girl looked up at him. "What's wrong?"

"I can't find my M-Momma," she whimpered, closing her eyes and gripping her pendant tightly with both hands. Phoenix's eyes were drawn immediately to the movement, and he realized how familiarly shaped the soft, yellow stone was, bounded by a bright white bead on each side, hung around her neck.

That's a magatama! Why is she wearing one!? Is she a daughter of one of the acolytes from Kurain?

His mind flashed back to when he had once suggested to Maya to have the mediums of Kurain let loose. It must have had happened in some way that one of the acolytes had a kid. At least, those damn old hags wouldn't have been pissed off about one of the poor things having a baby since it turned out to be another girl to learn their oh so beloved channeling technique, he thought sarcastically, as he scornfully recalled how the elders of Kurain – or the darling damn old hags, as Phoenix lovingly referred to them – for the sake of the Master of Kurain's reputation, had strongly discouraged Maya to keep contact him, with a blemished lawyer, disbarred for using false evidence.

Of course, Maya had not been ready to listen, but Phoenix had placated her with secret letters and stealthy meetings, at least until Kristoph had become a threat that he was forced to push Maya away from him, and cut off almost all contact with her, besides a rare letter here and there in the six years (though, Maya was the one sending letters while he restrained himself from replying to any).

Suddenly, his mind wandered to said meetings – his thoughts were roaming in memories of long talks and stolen kisses and passionate nights . . .

Oh, Maya, Maya, Maya . . . His heart burned and sang her name like a song, like a prayer, like a plea – like a wish, he hoped might come true at his call. There was always a corner of his heart reserved for her, craving her presence; now was no different, but the appearance of this child of Kurain made his need to see her all the more intense.

God, did he miss her so.

He had not wanted to abandon her, but what else could he have done, at the time? Had Kristoph caught wind of her in any way, or had realized that Phoenix was still in contact with her, he would have most definitely used the situation – or worse, her – to his advantage. And Phoenix could not even bear the thought of such a thing happening, let alone allow it, at all.

Now, however, that Kristoph was in jail, his only excuse not to meet her was just that he was a coward, too terrified to meet her and face her rejection. Had she moved on? Or was she still waiting for him to come back to her?

The girl cried once more, breaking Phoenix away from his thoughts of Maya.

"Hey, now, don't worry." He crouched down and flashed her a friendly grin. "I've gotcha, sweetheart. We'll help you find your mother, right, guys?" He turned to Edgeworth and Ema.

"Yes, of course." Ema, crouched down as well, nodded happily, grinning widely – it reminded Phoenix of the Ema he had known from 10 years ago, when he had taken on her sister's case. "Would you like a Snackoo?" She held up the bag that Phoenix had given to her during their meeting towards her.

The girl inspected the packaging for a moment, as if she was considering it, but then shook her head. "Momma says to never take anything from strangers."

Ema, though slightly disappointed, smiled in understanding, folding the package and placing it back in her satchel. "Alright. But if you get hungry and want one, or change your mind, or something, let me know."

Edgeworth just looked on silently, staring at her with narrowed, scrutinizing eyes.

The little girl stared back at him with wide, glassy eyes, and then shirked back behind Phoenix's legs, hanging tightly onto the fabric of his pants. Edgeworth flinched, taken aback, and slightly chagrined.

Phoenix twisted his torso to face her. "Just ignore the mean grouch, Edgeworth, here. He gives everyone the scary eyes." He winked at her, causing her to give him a small smile.

"I-I apologize . . . I've never been good with children, I suppose." His gruff voice almost hinted at a complaining tone.

"I-It's okay, Mister," she mumbled back shyly.

"Mr. Edgeworth."

"Mr. Eh . . .Eh-ji-worth," she tried to pronounce, eyebrows furrowed as she rolled his name around her tongue. "Mr. Edge-worth," she attempted once more, nodding to herself in satisfaction when she said it correctly. She faced her personal carriage and asked, "What about you?"

"My name is Phoenix, but you can call me Nick."

"And I'm Ema! What about you, sweetie?" she asked sweetly.

"Everyone from my village calls me Mai."

While Ema began to ask Mai about her village, Phoenix nodded. "That makes sense, since her name is an anagram of their founder's name, Ami," he muttered his thoughts aloud to himself, which made Ema look at him in confusion and Edgeworth frown in thought.

"Wright, I think that Maya . . . " Edgeworth started hesitantly – and Phoenix thought to himself that he knew what Edgeworth was going to say: that meeting Maya would be inevitable now, if he wanted to find the spirit medium who was Mai's mother, (because chances were, the mother had come along with Maya to the city, since she knew the area best), but now that Kristoph Gavin was behind bars, and Phoenix no longer bore the label of a fraud attorney, there was no real risk in facing Maya, besides a broken heart – but little Mai spoke up, interrupting the rest of his words.

"Mr. Nick, you're going to help me, right?" she pleaded with those wide, familiar eyes of hers. Phoenix's heart can't help but pang in sorrow as he hears her address him as Pearls once had.

"Of course, kiddo." He smiled and stretched out his hand for her to hold, but she hesitated for a moment. She slowly reached for his hand, but instead of curling her small, nimble fingers around it, she turned it over, so that his palm was facing outward. As she studied his palm, a deep look of concentration crossed her face.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm checking your heart lines. Mommy says that everyone has lines on their hands for their life, their heart, and, um . . . I don't remember the last one."

"Head," Edgeworth supplied, though his eyebrows furrowed in silent confusion.

"Oh, yes!" her high-pitched voice cried out in surprise. "The head. But Momma says to check the heart lines to see how long it is; you can trust someone who has a long one. A long heart line means you – "

" – will only fall in love once, and, well, it will be a love that lasts until you die."

No, no, no! Phoenix resisted the urge to moan and grab his head in hands, and shake the painful memories away. Her words mirrored his memories so scarily that he had to bite his tongue from gasping.

Mai, unaware of Phoenix's state, continued talking and gaped at his palm. "Wow, this line is so long!"

"Heh. Your heart line is pretty long, too, Maya."

They had been lazing about in the office during a particularly hot day of May. They hadn't worked on a case for quite some time, and they were constantly trying to find something to do. Unfortunately for them, however, the weather had gotten in the way of those plans.

Since they had been forced to stop using the air conditioning unit Mia had installed in her days at the office to save money on the electricity bill, Phoenix had brought and installed his fan from home instead. It now stood in front of the office couch, where he and Maya immediately sought refuge from the beginning of a hot Californian summer day.

After Maya had jumped to the couch, she had practically ripped off her purple haori, letting the kimono jacket fall to the floor, and undid the tie of her maroon obi – having that sash off her body never felt better – leaving her in only her white yukata. She had scrunched up the obi and thrown it across the room to where her hair beads, her prayer bead necklace, and her rubber band bracelets were scattered across Phoenix's desk. Though it landed on its target, it had unraveled in the air and draped across the desk haphazardly. She had then kicked her chunky clogs off and sat back comfortably on one side of the couch, feet propped up against the coffee table, her eyes closing as she'd sighed in contentment.

Phoenix had barked a laugh, and shaken off his coat, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt, before joining her on the sofa. He had kicked his shoes off as well, following her example, but also had to take off his socks and tuck them into his shoes. They had teased and joked with each other after that, trying to cool down in the sweltering heat.

And somehow, by the end of the hour, his hand had been in hers.

Her fingers had traced over the lines on his palm, and when she had found his heart line, she had been unable to do nothing but marvel at how long it was. Phoenix had found that the corners of his lips twitched upward and had reached for her hand to see her own heart line. He had been stunned to how long hers was as well, almost longer than his, but had not let his reaction show on his face as he had told her about it.

"My heart line?" Maya questioned in response to his comment, her eyes quickly flitting to her own palm. "What is a heart line? Is that a good thing that it's so long?" Maya fought back a shiver as his hand grasped her to trace the horizontal line on her palm that was closest to her fingers. "And what about the other lines? . . . Nick, how do you even know all of this, anyway?" She continued to drag her fingers across his palm lines.

He couldn't help but let out a chuckle, but felt his hand tingling at her touch. "Maya, you're making me feel like one of my witnesses on the stand!" he joked, for which Maya nudged her knee playfully against his. "But I only know about palm lines because my mother once took me to have my hand read by a gypsy – that woman taught me what each line means, too."

"Really?"

He lifted up her palm closer to their faces, and began touching the lines on her hand again. "Yeah, see? There are three lines, but the most important by far is this one. The heart line." He stopped his finger on the line he had been tracing before, examining it, still unable to shake off the feeling of surprise of how its length rivaled his. "Like I said your heart line is pretty long."

He felt Maya's eyes burning into him. "Why is so important, Nick? What does it mean? It's good if it's long, right?" she asked again.

Phoenix couldn't help but think how adorable she looked: her hair was tied up in a messy bun atop her head, with some loose, damp strands sticking to her sweaty face, while the other flew in the breeze of the fan. "Well, yeah. It means you'll fall in love once, and, well, um, it will be a love that lasts until you die." If he thought his face was sweaty and flushed, then it must have been an enigma as to how his cheeks were burning impossibly hotter.

But Maya appeared unfazed by his explanation. "And yours is long, too, right?" She grasped his hand and turned it over to his palm to check once more.

He shifted in his seat to lean towards Maya. The fingers of his free hand joined her probing ones to trace along his own heart line. "Yeah, see? Slightly longer as yours, though."

Maya's eyes sparkled with humor and she flashed him an impish smile. "Well, then, Pearly might be right – we must be each other's 'special someone' after all." She giggled, but Phoenix didn't miss how her face slightly reddened.

He was almost tempted to tell her then that after Dahlia, he had lost faith that there was some meaning to the heart lines on his hands, but something stopped him from declaring it, something that he could not put his finger to.

The silence that followed was unexpected and slightly uncomfortable. It made Phoenix question how much he valued Maya in his heart – did he value her just as a close friend or something more . . . ?

Maya looked away, unable to meet his intense gaze, and suddenly rose from the couch, announcing that she was going to "feed Charley and cool him down."

The thought of him and Maya in a relationship would not leave his mind; it would be so natural, so easy to be with her, so what was stopping him? He had a strong feeling that Maya most likely felt the same. Yes, there were some reasons he could name off the top of his head that would hold them both back from being together, but were they such important factors to take into account?

He gave Maya one quick glance across the room as she smiled and hummed to herself while watering Charley.

No, they aren't, he admitted to himself. And just because his love life had been a failure before, it didn't mean that it had to fail again now.

Another thought occurred to him then. What if his heart line – whose meaning he had always associated to only being able to love Dahlia and no one else – was actually about Maya? Then, maybe, that old gypsy hadn't been so crazy as he'd thought. Maybe, he hadn't completely thrown away his money by getting his hand read.

Maybe there was something to the heart lines on his hands, after all.

His eyes stared at Mai intensely for a moment, and then he turned towards the detective. "Ema . . . you have the proper tools for us to track footprints, right?" His tone of voice is gruff, dismissive.

Ema, who had been asking Mai to check the heart line on her palm next, was surprised at the sudden change of topic. Her confused face morphed into a determined expression as she looked back at him and nodded. "Yes, I do, Mr. Wright." Her eyes twinkled in delight.

"We can use Ema's tools to backtrack with Mai's footprints, but what are the chances that her mother is waiting where they were before?" Edgeworth pondered, with arms crossed over his chest.

Phoenix smiled knowingly, more at ease, now that they were no longer talking about those damned heart lines. "She's from Kurain, Edgeworth. All of the mediums have a uniform of sorts. They more than likely wear the same type of clog."

"Right." Ema nodded. "Scientifically speaking, the mother's sandals will leave the same footprints as Mai's, only bigger." Edgeworth nodded as well. "Just leave it to me, Mai," she assured, her hand digging into her satchel to fish out the proper utensils. "We'll find your mother in no time."

.

It had been an hour since they started tracking footprints. They had been able to follow Mai's prints and find her mother's sandal tracks, bigger than Mai's but not by much (which made sense, since the Kurain women were petite in height), but following those prints had taken a while, as Ema, crouched down for most of the time, would have to keep using her tools in the direction of those tracks, and use her special glasses to see the footprints. They would walk along the path of the footprints, ending up having to go in circles and retrace their steps – because it appeared that Mai's mother had kept backtracking a lot. But finally, they seemed to be catching onto a resolute path, following the footprints.

Phoenix was surprised that they had only found one set of adult footprints matching Mai's. Wouldn't it have made sense for Maya to accompany Mai and her mother? While tracking footprints, Mai had mentioned that this was her first time in the city with her mother, so, of course, Maya's presence would have been necessary to guide them both. Phoenix had to admit that although he was extremely disheartened by the fact that he wouldn't be meeting Maya today, he was also slightly relieved.

Edgeworth, on the other hand, watched the three of them silently with a calculating look on his face. He only spoke once throughout the whole ordeal, just to inquire about Mai's age – but even then, his features were grave with scrutiny, and his face taut.

Eventually, they reached the central fountain in People's Park, where they spotted a young woman, dressed in the proper Kurain spirit medium garb, sitting on a bench a few feet away from them. Next to her sat Trucy, and standing in front of her was Apollo; they were both trying to comfort her. Though her face was buried in her hands, her long, familiar hair, in its usual hairstyle, flowed in the breeze of the wind – it took Phoenix a mere heartbeat to identify her.

Maya Fey.

But but . . . ! his mind began to protest, how could Maya have come with them to the city? There were only one set of footprints, and Mai had said herself that she had taken the train with just her mother . . . .

"Wright." Edgeworth placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "This is what I was trying to tell you before." Edgeworth continued speaking, but Phoenix tuned his voice out of his mind, which was now reeling frantically in panic.

But if Maya is here – !

He wasn't able to finish the thought – not because it was overwhelming for him to bring the truth to his mind, or that he was in utter shock, but because Little Mai confirmed his words in a happy cry.

"Momma!" Her tiny feet made crinkling sounds against the freshly mowed grass of People Park as she sprinted towards the woman.

Maya looked up, and whipped her head towards her daughter, and immediately wrenched out of her seat, running towards her daughter. "Mai!" she shouted, with widened, relieved eyes. When she reached her, she fell to her knees and hugged her tightly, weeping. She then cradled her daughter's face between her hands and kissed her forehead and cheeks.

"Mia Mai Fey!" – Her name was Mia?! – "Do you have any idea how worried I was!?" Her face was contorted in a mixture of anger, sadness, and relief as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Mai started to cry as well.

If Maya is her mother . . .

"Mr. Wright, are you okay?" Ema asked softly, no doubt probably hearing a bit of the current situation from Edgeworth.

Instead of answering her, Phoenix began to count backwards in head, with the image of Mai's shining, baby-blue eyes and her high cheekbones – which he knew for a fact did not come from Maya – in the back of his mind. When he came to an appropriate conclusion, he stood there silently, listening to only to the conversation unfolding in front of him.

"Why didn't you stay in one place like I told you to do if you ever got lost?" Maya sobbed, crushing Mia closer to her chest.

Mai looked up from their embrace with apologetic tears shining in those blue eyes of hers. "I'm sorry, Momma," she hiccupped. "I really wanted to, but these nice people promised to help me find you, and we found you by following your f-feet-prints using Miss Ema's science tools!"

"Ema?" Phoenix heard Apollo cry in recognition. "Detective Ema Skye? She helped you find us?"

Trucy placed her hands on her hips as her face was contorted in thought. "It had to have been her, Polly! What other person named Ema would carry tools on the go to track footprints?" she reasoned, and then turned to Mai. "Hi, Mai! I'm Trucy! It's really nice to meet you. That's Apollo, by the way!" – she gestured towards the lawyer, who grinned widely and waved – "I was wondering, was Miss Ema was wearing a white lab coat, by any chance?"

"You mean the white doctor coat?" she asked, and then, after Apollo and Trucy nodded, she answered, "Yes! She was very nice to me, too. And thank you for helping Momma find me, Miss Trucy and Mr. P-Pollo; and, Miss Ema helped me find you, too, by looking at Momma's feet-prints!"

"Footprints, baby," Maya corrected softy, (at least soft enough that Phoenix almost couldn't hear her words) her thumb brushing against Mai's cheek. "These people . . . where – ?" she began to ask, but was interrupted by her daughter's exclamations.

"I checked the heart lines, Momma!" she proudly declared, giving her mother a toothy grin.

Maya smiled back softly. "Really? Did all of them have long ones?"

Mai frowned. "I only checked one of their heart lines. But his was very long, Momma, like yours!"

"Oh, really?" Her smile is similar to one that her sister might have given long ago – her head tilted to the side with a slight smirk gracing her features. "If one of their heartlines were long like mine, they must have a good heart. Where are these nice people, anyway? I'd like to thank them for returning you to me."

"Oh, I'll call them!" Mai cried out excitedly. She turned around and began to wave at Phoenix, who was standing in his place, hands at his side, rigid, and Edgeworth and Ema, who were at his side, trying to get him to respond to their words.

Maya, too – along with Apollo and Trucy – followed her daughter's gaze, with a warm smile on her face, which immediately faltered upon seeing the three familiar figures in front of them.

"Miss Ema! Mr. Nick! Mr. E-Edgeworth! Come here, please!" she called out to them, bouncing with excitement.

But, similar to Phoenix, a pale Maya stood there frozen, the blood drained from her face. Unlike his hands, though, hers were shaking, almost as if they were tingling from Phoenix's very presence. Her palms felt so impossibly hot that she could feel her heart lines burning through her skin, begging to feel his.

Phoenix's state was similar to hers: he had a desire to hold those trembling hands and kiss them to calm her. To trace the heart lines on her hand as he whispered apologies and declarations of love.

He wanted to move towards her, hug her, kiss her, do something, but he found himself immobile, paralyzed by, not only the realization that Mai was his – their – daughter, but the deep look of love and guilt in Maya's eyes.


A/N: Aaaaaaaah, I know, I'm cruel for leaving it there. Alas, I don't really plan to continue it, only because this ending is left for open interpretation (with mainly one, glaringly obvious happy end, and many different sad things that may or may not lead to a happy end). If any wants to know my take on it, feel free to ask or PM me! :)

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little take of a what-could-have-been! Let me know in a review how you interpret the ending, and what it could lead to! ;)