Are We There Yet
They say that home is where the heart is
I guess I haven't found my home
And we keep driving 'round in circles
Afraid to call this place our own
It had only been a few weeks since they were last at Lordly Tailor for the Treasures of Kurain exhibit, and yet Maya kept chattering on excitedly, as if she was stepping foot into the department store for the first time. Truth be told, Phoenix only needed to buy a few light bulbs and spare batteries, which were readily available at one of the shops near the office. But ever since the exhibit, the future Master of Kurain had insisted on going to Lordly Tailor for every little thing.
The young spirit medium ooh-ed and ahh-ed at the various items on display, running ahead of Phoenix as she examined rows upon rows of furniture and other home accents. Maya's excited giggles trailed off as she disappeared behind what seemed to be a dining-and-kitchen display set.
The dining table was set with plates filled with food, the stove had pots and pans on the burners, the kitchen window had dainty drapes over them, and an apron even hung on the back of one of the dining set chairs. Disregarding the fact that all the items had price tags on them and the food on the table was made of plastic, it really seemed like a scene out of someone's home.
And now, with Maya in the scene, slipping into the apron and turning towards the stove, the homey diorama sprung even more into life.
"What are you doing?" Phoenix laughed as he approached.
"Oh, Nick, you're back! Welcome home," the girl smiled, turning to face the lawyer. "How was work?"
From where he stood outside the kitchen set-up, it seemed like he was watching a typical family sitcom, with his companion filling in the shoes of the housewife (although admittedly she looked a bit young for the part). Laughing, he stepped onto the set.
"Yeah, well, work's still sitting in the office, waiting for us to come back," he said, circling the dining table to reach the spirit medium. "So come on. We can play house some other time," he continued as he helped a pouting Maya out of her apron.
Draping the apron back onto the chair, Maya mused, "Hmm, we can use a real kitchen, instead of this fake one," she laughed before adding, "Like the one in your apartment!"
They were both only kidding, of course, and yet Phoenix couldn't help but shake his head. Whether she was being serious or not, he wasn't going to let her wreak havoc in his kitchen again, that he swore to himself as he took her by the wrist and led her away from the set.
Besides, he thought, they can't risk giving Pearls any more crazy ideas.
They say you're really not somebody
Until somebody else loves you
Well, I am waiting to make somebody
Somebody soon
Phoenix let out a sigh of relief as the door to the Wright & Co. Law Offices clicked closed behind him. It had been a long day; he was beat—physically, more than anything. It was terrifying having to face off with both Furio Tigre and Jean Armstrong in a fight, but at least he made it out alive with the evidence still intact.
Now he can rest and get some peace until—
Riiiiing!
—Until the phone rings. Maya hurried over to his desk to pick it up. "Oh, hi, Pearly!" He heard her say from the inner office.
Although Maya was all the way inside, he could hear her recounting the day's events to her young cousin. Pearls… he thought as he plopped down onto the couch in the office's reception area.
Pearl Fey, the nine-year-old spirit-channeling prodigy. Pearl was extremely gifted, and she took her training very seriously, unlike a certain someone else he knew. Despite this though, the little child revered her cousin so much, and she even went as far as calling her "Mystic Maya" and…
And… reminding him, time and again, that he should always be there for "Mystic Maya" and that he should protect her and do as she wishes, because they're "special someones."
Where did she get that idea anyway? Phoenix thought, cradling his head in his hands. Was it something I did or said?
He thought back to how he usually treated Maya. He considered her as his best friend, and one of the closest and most important people to him. It was only natural then, that he would care so much about her. If there was one thing about Phoenix Wright that people should know, he thought, it's that he never gives up on people he trusts; he'd do whatever he can for them.
He's shown that when he proved Edgeworth's innocence even when he himself refused to believe in it, when he had settled for nothing less than an innocent verdict for Maya in that channeling incident, and even when he had taken on the scorn of the court as he stalled for time in trying to save Maya from Shelly de Killer.
Phoenix shuddered at the memory of that trial last year. It had been one of the most terrifying experiences in his life; the life of someone important to him depended on whether he would let a guilty man go free. But if Pearls was kidnapped, I'm pretty sure I'd do everything in my power to save her, too, he thought. I'd pretty much do anything for my friends. So why is she singling out Maya?
Leaning back on the couch, he raised his head to the ceiling and closed his eyes.
"You know, Nick, a man and a woman can't be 'just friends,'" A memory of Larry surfaced, his smug face and knowing tone pushing itself to the front of Phoenix's consciousness. "Haven't you seen that movie?"
He let out a chuckle. Classic Larry Butz.
"Well, anyway, if you don't want her… maybe you can set me up on a date with Maya then?"
He remembered angrily dismissing Larry for that comment, and yet, now that he thought about it, why was he so worked up?
Maybe because Maya was barely eighteen when Larry had asked? Or maybe just because it's Larry, period.
If Pearl was there, she would have said he was jealous and was being protective of his "special someone." He turned the thoughts around and around in his head, but he still couldn't quite understand it.
I wonder what exactly Maya has been telling Pearls about me?
After all, he remembered, one of the first things Pearl said when they first met was that he was Maya's "special someone." For an extremely sheltered child, it was impossible that Pearl could have thought all that up on her own without anything to convince her of it, Phoenix thought. Could Maya actually have feelings for him that she wasn't telling him about?
Me? No way. I don't think Maya li—
"Hello? Earth to Nick?" Phoenix was brought back from his thoughts by the sight of Maya, waving a hand in front of his face. He was so lost in thought that he didn't realize she had already finished her call with Pearl.
"It's a good thing Detective Gumshoe saved us back there, huh," she continued, when she finally got his attention.
Maya gently pressed an ice pack to his face. His bruises were still barely visible at the time, but the touch of ice against his face made him wince. She was right; if the detective hadn't showed up, he probably would've ended up as a bloody heap of garbage. And who knows what would happen to Maya then, if he were reduced to that?
Maya.
He drifted back to his earlier musings as he watched her tenderly apply the ice to where Tigre and Armstrong had hit him. He watched her eyelashes flutter, rhythmically meeting the ends of her fringe. He watched that pair of deep brown eyes, fixed on a spot on his face, seemingly avoiding his gaze. And was that a tinge of pink on her cheeks?
She doesn't… does she? If she does, then how? Why? And since when?
"Nick, are you alright?" Maya asked, a worried look on her face. Phoenix had been spacing out again.
It's impossible. She probably just talked about how I helped her out, and Pearl just came to her own conclusions. The only truth about Maya and I is that Mia trusts us to look out for each other. That's what it really is. That's all we really are.
Right?
He shook his head as he moved the ice pack she was holding back to his face. His hand still over hers, he mumbled, "I think I got hit in the head pretty hard."
They say there's linings made of silver
Folded inside each raining cloud
Well, we need someone to deliver
Our silver lining now
"What in the world were you thinking, Wright?"
The stern tone was the first thing he heard as he found himself back to the land of consciousness for the umpteenth time that day. He could still feel his head throbbing, and his high fever was making him break into a sweat.
"Edgeworth…?" He mumbled as he tried to focus on the figure seated by his bedside. He had been slipping in and out of consciousness for the past few hours, and now he wasn't quite sure whether the man reprimanding him was real or just a figment of his imagination. "Weren't you abroad?"
The burgundy-suited prosecutor crossed him arms. "Larry called me here. He made it sound like you were dying," he huffed. "Nevertheless, let me ask again: what in the world were you thinking?"
Phoenix sat up in his bed, albeit with a bit of difficulty. Turning his gaze away from the man questioning him, he replied, "Someone was murdered. The killer could have crossed to the other side of the mountain to escape. And Maya was out there, on that other side." He stared intently at this fists, clenched around the edges of the blanket on his lap.
At the mention of the spirit medium, Edgeworth's gaze softened. It was always Maya, he realized, who made the defense attorney do the craziest things.
"Who knows who else the murderer could kill? What if they found and killed Maya? If that happened I… I just couldn't let that happen," Phoenix continued. Locking gazes with his childhood friend, he said, "That's what I've been thinking about the whole time."
With a frown, Edgeworth shook his head. "That bridge was forty feet above a raging river, Wright. You could have died!" He retorted. "And if you did, what about Maya then?"
Phoenix sighed. What he did really was stupid and irrational, he agreed, now thinking back with hindsight. But his thoughts kept piling up, reminding him of how he had promised his mentor that he'd look out for her sister, and that he had sworn he'd never desert her.
"I thought you'd come. I knew you would," he could hear her say. Maya believed in him, and he couldn't let her down. A burning bridge wasn't going to get in his way, or so he thought at that time.
But there he was, sick in the hospital, while Maya was still stuck on the other side of Eagle Mountain.
"'Feenie'… what a joke you are. Honestly, how can any woman ever count on you for anything?"
Another voice cut through his thoughts. A memory he thought he had already buried long ago was resurrected in his mind: Dahlia Hawthorne. She may have failed in giving him that fatal bottle of medicine, but she still managed to poison him in the end.
"You disgust me."
Edgeworth watched as the attorney shook slightly, eyes shut tight as if he were having a nightmare. "Wright…" he started, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
Stop it, Phoenix! He scolded himself, pulling the demon-warding hood tighter over himself, desperate to drive out the thoughts of the red-haired young woman. "It couldn't possibly have been Dahlia. She's in jail!"
The declaration came out of nowhere, surprising the prosecutor. Why was he talking about Dahlia Hawthorne all of a sudden? "Get a hold of yourself, Wright!" Grabbing the attorney by the shoulders, he shook him, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Dahlia Hawthorne… she's dead." The prosecutor added, his voice dropping to a whisper.
Phoenix's eyes widened at the news as Edgeworth explained the carrying out of her execution last month. Suddenly, the pieces started to fit together in his head. That girl, Iris, wasn't Dahlia. But there was something about her that Phoenix just couldn't quite place; it felt like they knew each other. And whether that was the reason why he felt she was innocent, he wasn't sure. What he did know was that he needed to defend the girl and find out the truth.
Pulling out the bag of his belongings, he turned to his friend. "Edgeworth, I have a favor to ask. Look for a woman called Iris at the Detention Center," he said, pointing to the young nun's photo on the magazine. He then took out his attorney's badge and Maya's magatama and put it into the prosecutor's hands. "Just for a day. Please, Edgeworth."
Edgeworth looked at him, brows furrowed part in thought and part in disbelief. Who was this woman really? And was Wright seriously asking him to pretend to be a defense attorney in his place? It was unheard of. It was ridiculous. It was risky.
"And… please, please, find Maya and make sure she's alright."
There was a fire in Phoenix's eyes; it was gaze all too familiar to Edgeworth. It was the kind that told him this man just wasn't going to give up, and that he was going to do everything—even make the impossible possible—to save those important to him.
Clutching Wright's most prized possession and the strange, mystical stone in his hand, Edgeworth nodded. "I understand."
And are we there yet?
And are we there yet?
And are we there yet?
Home, home, home
Home, home, home
A cool February breeze greeted the group as they shuffled out of the incredibly pink French restaurant. It was getting late; only a few passersby littered the streets. They had all come from a long, tiring, and cathartic trial, and were treated to dinner by Detective Gumshoe. The food wasn't spectacular, given the limits of Gumshoe's salary and Trés Bien's reputation, but the conversation that peppered their meal made the dinner all the more filling and enjoyable.
Rounds of take-cares and goodnights filled the air as they waved their goodbyes. Gumshoe, Edgeworth and Franziska got into their cars (but not without Franziska finally taking the chance to lash out her whip at Gumshoe's terrible choice of venue for dinner), while the defense team turned into the opposite direction towards the Wright & Co. Law Offices.
"You sure you'll be okay walking, pal? I can give you guys a ride back," Gumshoe offered, already halfway getting into the driver's seat of his run-down car as he rubbed the spot on his arm that Franziska had targeted.
"We'll be fine, Detective," Phoenix smiled, adjusting a now-sleeping Pearl on his back. Maya nodded her agreement as he continued. "The office isn't that far away from here."
After watching the detective and the prosecutors speed away, Phoenix and Maya started on their walk back to the office. It was a clear night; the moon shone brightly and the stars were out, without a cloud to block them. Phoenix rarely found the time to look up at the sky at night, he realized, and now that he did, he thought it incredibly mesmerizing.
"Hey Maya, look—" He smiled as he turned to the spirit medium, but was surprised to find her walking a few steps behind. He had been too occupied with stargazing that he failed to notice she had fallen behind, her wooden sandals scraping against the pavement instead of their usual spirited click-clack. His smile fell and was replaced with a solemn look of concern.
Hearing him call, she looked up and instantly pushed a smile onto her face. "What is it, Nick?"
To anyone who didn't know her well, she would have sounded as chipper as she always was. But Phoenix knew, even more today than ever before, that she was once again putting up a strong façade.
For the figure sleeping on his back, more than anyone else.
It's okay. I'm here, his gaze said as he approached her, reaching out to give her hand a reassuring squeeze.
"Let's go home," was what he chose to say out loud though, with a gentle smile that spoke of how he has decided to be strong for her sake too.
With Pearl sleeping soundly on his back and Maya's hand in his, Phoenix turned at the corner, to the street where the Wright & Co. Law Office sits.
They say that home is where the heart is.
Are we there yet?
Home?