Flaire: So, after the dismal failure of Turnabout Fudge (I got about three reviews for all three chapters…my Hospital Turnabout was more popular) I decided to write a sequel. Why?
So I decided to enlist the help of fellow author and now co-writer, Sasameyuki.
Sasameyuki: *has nothing to say* Er…hi.
Disclaimer: We do not own Gyakuten Saiban or any of its multi-language counterparts. Gyakuten Saiban aka Phoenix Wright and all affiliates are property of Capcom. This is a nonprofit venture written only for personal satisfaction (to any Yu-Gi-Oh 5D's fans: Team Satisfaction!) and no one is making money from this. The only material this fanfic generates are endorphins. (If you want to see someone make a profit from this, buy the Del Rey Phoenix Wright mangas. But to tell the truth, Flaire's seen better doujinshis.)
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Saturday, March 14
In a high-rise building overlooking the cityscape, Miles Edgeworth in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office. However, he wasn't paying any mind to the breathtaking view—instead, his attention was focused in the opposite direction, towards the door. Though appearing clam and composed, standing ramrod-straight with arms crossed behind his back, his eyes kept flickering back and forth between the state-of-the-art atomic clock and room's entrance.
That person was later than expected. It figured. The person who Edgeworth was waiting for could never be predicted.
'As soon as I sit down to work, he's going to come waltzing in,' he thought, wrinkling his nose at the mid-sized stack of reports he had yet to complete. 'If I start on anything complicated, the interruption will surely throw off my conclusions. I should do something inconsequential. Let's see what happens if I give Gumshoe an extra ten percent raise.'
It was an amusing idea. The silverette casually strolled over to his leather-upholstered writing chair, slowly opened up the appropriate drawer, fingered through the files, taking time to read the header on each one even though he knew the exact position of the forms labeled, "Salary Evaluation." Edgeworth withdrew the paper very carefully, so that it wouldn't stick to rest of the files, shut the cabinet, and minutely adjusted the sheet so it lay in the exact center of his desk. Plucking the anti-gravity pressurized stainless steel fountain pen from its stand on his right, he touched it to the paper.
The door burst open.
"Hiya, Edgeworth!"
With mild horror, the prosecutor looked up to see Maya Fey bound into the room, accompanied by her cousin.
"Hello, Mr. Edgeworth," Pearl greeted, shyly.
He wasn't going to ask what they were doing there. Or even why the little girl wasn't in school. Once thing's for sure, this was all due to the circumstances of being Phoenix Wright.
"You wanted to see me, Edgeworth?"
Right on cue.
Edgeworth set the pen down, rose from his chair—just when he was about to get comfortable, of course—and addressed his rival/friend. "Yes, Wright, we have some unfinished business to settle."
Phoenix tilted his head quizzically.
The magenta-clad man coughed. "I would prefer to discuss the matter in private."
"Why? Is it about a case? We can help," Maya offered, while Pearl nodded vigorously beside her.
"No, I'm afraid you cannot assist me on this. This is only between me and Wright." He looked at the other man for support.
The brunette shrugged. "Um…" he looked at the girls, not sure what to say.
"No fair!" Maya pouted. "We're Nick's trusted assistants! There's no way he can solve any cases without us!"
"Hey, isn't that taking it a little too far…?" Phoenix protested weakly as Maya steamed on ahead, practically ready to preach at the prosecutor.
"So just telling anything to Nick is useless! You might as well tell us too," she finished, with her most "trustworthy" grin.
"You can count on us, Mr. Edgeworth!" added Pearl, bravely rolling up her sleeves.
He made a mental note to never, under any circumstances, allow one of the Feys to defend him. Clearly, only Mia Fey possessed the defending skills in the family. The silver-haired prosecutor pondered this development for a second before reaching a suitable counter-strategy in the quickest time possible. "You know, Prosecutor von Karma just acquired a wondrous new whip technique she's been showing off recently. Have you seen it yet?"
The little pink-robed girl shook her head. Perfect. He continued, "She's in her office right now— and I'm sure she would love to give you a demonstration, if you ask her nicely."
"Oooh, can we, Mystic Maya?" Pearl pleaded, tugging on the arm of her older cousin.
The ebony-haired girl brought a hand to her face, thinking about it. Her resistance to Pearl's infamous puppy-eyes was one-hundred times higher than her blue-suited partner's. "Hmm…that does sound cool." Her face considerably brightened. "Hey, maybe I can learn something useful! Then I can ride on Nick and wave my own whip around!"
Edgeworth choked. Phoenix flushed tomato-red. That mental image was just wrong. On multiple levels.
Pearl's brow furrowed. "Isn't that animal cruelty?" she asked, recalling a tidbit she overheard from the news radio on that matter.
"Not if it's Nick!" the older acolyte grinned. "Let's go, Pearly!"
"This is going to be fun!"
With that, the pair practically raced out of the room, door swinging widely behind them. Of course. But, Miles reasoned, two opinionated hindrances gone in exchange for one small annoyance? Not a bad trade at all.
The brunette beside him sighed with relief. "So, what's so important that Maya and Pearls can't know?" he asked, turning towards his cohort—and found a faux-velvet bag shoved into his face.
"Happy White Day, Wright," Edgeworth mumbled, looking down, refusing to meet Phoenix's eyes.
Speechless, it was only by reflex that Phoenix took the bag and opened it. Nestled inside was a plastic package of fluffy marshmallows.
The magenta-clad lawyer resisted the urge to hold his arm, but couldn't help himself from shifting a little uncomfortably. The Great Demon Prosecutor, Miles Edgeworth, fidgeting? Where was the confidence he used to stare down at murderers with as he sentenced them to their fate?
"Wright, do you remember--"
"THIS COSTED $39.99??!"
Apparently, said Great Demon Prosecutor had forgotten to remove the price tag.
Edgeworth's left eyebrow twitched and he straightened up, practically radiating with enmity. "Perhaps my choice selection is not good enough for you, Wright? Is this the thanks I get when I take what little precious time I have out of my busy schedule to handpick what I believe is to be an appropriate gift? Are you not satisfied?" His voice was low, and dripping with apparent anger.
Meep! Wrong answer. Quick, there's an irate and highly intimidating public prosecutor bearing down on you, what are you to do? Luckily, it was in times like this where Phoenix Wright was in his element, and he did what he did best—improvise. "T-t-that's not what I meant! Of course I like your gift! I'm very flattered! It's extremely nice of you, Edgeworth! But why did you spend so much money on such a small bag of marshmallows when you can get a much better deal at the drugstore…"
"In case you haven't noticed, there are people who prefer quality over quantity. But your poor taste is not the reason you're holding those." He then motioned at the marshmallows, quickly changing the subject to his main interest. "So, what is your answer?"
There was a pause as the gears turned in the defense lawyer's spiky head. "Uh…thank you very much for these marshmallows?"
He instantly shut up when Edgeworth glared daggers at him. Definitely the wrong answer.
This called for more improvisation. "Well, I really appreciate this gift a lot, but you didn't have to, and it's so expensive, but I'm sure they're quite delicious, thanks a bunch, it was very thoughtful of you…"
"You're missing the point, Wright," Edgeworth ground out, his teeth clenched, about ready to take back his present and eat them himself while wallowing alone in his own impending misery. White Day or not.
"…how did you know I like marshmallows…?"
Something clicked in the prosecutor's brain. Wait. It can't be…is he really that stupid? Hm, based on experience… "Do you even know what day it is?" he ventured cautiously, crossing his arms.
Phoenix stopped himself in his mid-sentence, finally glad for a question he could answer. "Of course," he chuckled nervously, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "It's Saturday."
Edgeworth frowned, rubbing his temples. He knew this was going to be difficult, but this was not the scenario he had envisioned at all. "I was referring to the occasion. You really don't know anything about White Day?"
The brunette painstakingly wracked his memory for days involving 'white.' "…Do you mean Labor Day?"
"No!"
Calm down. Remain calm. Recall that courtroom composure…that flies out the window every time Wright appears as his opponent. "Goodness, Wright, you're the one who came to me with chocolate on Valentine's Day."
If anything, that statement just added to Phoenix's confusion. "Wait. So, is that what this is about? Haven't I told you already? It was Maya's idea, not mine!"
"Excuses, excuses," Edgeworth casually waved Phoenix's protest aside, not buying it. "For your information, White Day is a holiday in Japan, where men give marshmallows to the subject of their affections in reciprocation of the chocolates they received on Valentine's Day…and the feelings they represent," he ended, a little slowly, not sure how Phoenix would react to this.
The blue-clad lawyer's jaw dropped in shock. Finally, he understood. This entire time, since they've been working together…Phoenix found himself smiling, finally understanding what his rival meant. At the same time, something light and feathery fluttered in Edgeworth's chest…
"Oh Miles…you didn't need my approval to give these to Maya."
…which was squashed flat by an anvil of pure outrage.
"HOW THICK IS YOUR SKULL, WRIGHT?!!! SOMEONE UP THERE MUST HATE ME FOR MAKING ME FALL FOR AN IGNORAMOUS LIKE YOU!!!"
Edgeworth and Phoenix simultaneously paled as both realized the implications of what he just said. The silverette turned and coughed into his fist, suddenly finding the hardwood floor quite fascinating. "Do excuse me for that outburst," he finally said after an awkward moment, idly fingering his cravat while mentally struggling to find the right words to explain himself. "Disregard what I said. What I'm trying to say is, Phoenix Wright, will you accept a rendezvous with me?" He forced a pained smile, trying to make light of this strange conversation.
The other man's face went from sheet-white to beet-red in a split second, and Phoenix wobbled a bit, trying not to faint from the blood displacement.
"O-O-OBJECTION!" he cried out, pointing at Edgeworth's face. "We're both men!"
His rival, however, was prepared for this response, and thrust his own finger towards Phoenix's chest in retaliation, forcing him to back up. "Overruled. You gave me chocolate on Valentine's Day, henceforth, by Japanese standards, assuming the role of the female in the relationship." Edgeworth crossed his arms, smug.
Phoenix tried again. "Hold it! We gave fudge to several people that day. We can't possibly date multiple members of the police force and prosecutor's office."
"Take that! The one you gave me was much larger than the others, and it was a heart, out of all shapes," Edgeworth boldly poked the defense attorney in the chest again, making Phoenix take a few skittish steps back. "You know very well what that implies, Wright."
Phoenix put up his hands for protection. "But—"
"And don't even think about bringing Maya into this!"
The brunette backed up again when he saw Edgeworth's finger slice through the air.
"You delivered it to me personally," the prosecutor continued, "without your fangirls—"
"Hey!"
"I rest my case. I have already made reservations at the Ritz-Carlton's main dining hall for tonight. Be ready by six—and I'll expect you to be ALONE." He jabbed at Phoenix again, pushing him just far enough to shut the office door in his face.
Well, that was more stressful than necessary. But confrontations with the other lawyer usually were. Edgeworth lightly loosened his cravat and combed some stray hair away from his face as he walked back to his desk and sat down.
Hm, what was that salary evaluation form doing there again?
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"Miss von Karma's so amazing!" Pearl gushed, practically hopping up the stairs in glee. "Do you know where can we buy handcuffs, Mystic Maya?"
The purple-robed girl skipped ahead and opened the door from the stairwell to the hallway. "I don't know. Maybe we should ask Nick." She caught sight of their escort, still staring at Edgeworth's door in bewilderment. "Hey, Nick!" She called.
Phoenix jolted. "Ah—Maya!" He bent down to catch Pearl, who ran instantly into his arms.
"Miss von Karma showed us five different ways to tie up men with a whip, no matter how big they are! But I did feel a little sorry for Mr. Scruffy-Coat-Detective. What's that you have there, Mr. Nick?" she asked, pointing to the little red bag.
This made the blue-suit made his emerging blush stand out all the more. "Oh! This? This…is…for Maya! Here you go!" he said, practically thrusting the sack at the older spirit medium.
"Oh, Mr. Nick, that's so sweet of you!" Pearl gasped, clasping her face with both of her hands.
Maya eagerly tore the bag open, her eyes alighting upon the treats inside. "Sweet! I love these!" She popped three of the marshmallows into her mouth. "Mmmmph—theesh are good!" She swallowed, and offered the bag to her younger cousin. "Have some, Pearly."
"Oh, no, I mustn't! They're yours to treasure, Mystic Maya, from the bottom of Mr. Nick's heart!" the youngster replied, turning from side-to-side with delight.
Phoenix clapped once. "Okay, we're done here, who's up for lunch?" It was a high-cost distraction, but it never failed and didn't now. When he thought about going a date with Edgeworth, his heart sped up. But, he wondered, was it from eagerness or fear?
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Sorry it's so late people! Please read and review! By the way, we need your help—we can't remember what Pearl calls Gumshoe! Mr. Scruffy Detective? Mr. Scruffy Coat? Mr. Scruffy Man? Help us please!
And look out for chapter 2! It might be two weeks, three weeks, one month late?
