Chapter 2: Four Red Flames for Rebirth

Days. Weeks. Months had passed. Edgeworth had not heard any news from her directly since that unexpected visit. Lana Skye had disappeared once again from his life. Not from his mind though. Remains of that evening sometimes preoccupied him during his few moments of repose and solitude. But he tried to ignore it. He was not ready yet. He still had to push it back. Push back that ugly flow of past events that would occasionally rush through his head, again and again. A daily struggle that seemed like it would never last, a continuous battle that pursued him forever, since the beginning of it all…

Detective Gumshoe reported twice to him about her application to enter again in the police force. Apparently, she'd decided to abandon law. She was now determined to start everything from the beginning. She wanted a renewal. A turnabout, in a certain sense. Edgeworth, when hearing from his friend about her movements, tried to shrug it off, pretending it did not affect him. But the detective could easily perceive his real concerns about her. Not that Gumshoe was particularly insightful. It was more that Edgeworth often could not hide his true emotions. Finally, the detective decided not to push the matter any further and to leave the prosecutor alone, as Miles ended up not questioning him anymore about her actions.

The weather had frozen. The streets were still from the first piles of snow on the pavements, yet alive from the illuminations of the glowing decorations on the shops, which were put up to celebrate the beginning of the winter festivities. Edgeworth was not a man who largely enjoyed celebrations, or who was easily caught in by all the holiday activities. He could not exactly understand its importance, the excitement behind it, the so-called "Christmas spirit" everyone chattered about during that period. After all, his past life had not given him the chance to share such joy with a "real" family…

He preferred profiting from his vacation, one of the little times he had to take a break from work, by staying comfortably at home with Pesu, both taking pleasure in tasty English delicatessen, warm beverages, and of course, one of the only truly enjoyable elements about the holidays, the extra-special Christmas episodes of the Steel Samurai: Warrior of Neo Olde Tokyo show. If Edgeworth seemed to lead a severe lifestyle, one of the rare frivolities he enjoyed was indeed this artistic masterpiece of a story, recounting the epic tale of a glorious hero, accompanied by the Pink Princess and the Iron Infant, eternally enraptured in a fight against the Evil Magistrate. Yes, really, the sole series on television worthy enough to receive the Chief State Prosecutor's attention.

It was on one of those slow nostalgic December afternoons, when he was quietly observing the orange haze coloring the dreary slush on the roads, the pink clouds looking like they were going to rest in the skies until the end of time, that his front doorbell rang.

Pesu inquisitively turned her head towards the front door. Caught off guard, Edgeworth equally turned his towards the entrance, then towards his dog, then towards the clock on top of his refrigerator. His show had not started yet. Pesu did not seem to move from her seat near the peg table: she was patiently waiting for him. Still slightly dizzy from his dreamlike state in front of the window, Miles clumsily got up, almost knocking down his chair. Surprised, Pesu jumped a little. She then followed her master down the hall to greet the visitor, and sat down in front of the doorway, waiting for Miles to let the stranger in.

The door opened. Pesu smelled something. Not a completely unfamiliar, but certainly not an easily recognizable scent. One that appeared to come from a long time ago. But the person's odor was almost hidden, masked by a strange smell of burning that irritated the collie's nostrils.

Two unstable black heels. A pair of trembling legs. Hurriedness and distress in the human's voice, a female one. Couple of noisy crumpling plastic bags hanged upon one large suitcase. A shaking grip on the luggage's handle, desperately trying to reaffirm itself. Miles Edgeworth stood still once again, completely shocked when finding his old mentor a second time in front of him without any warning. Only now, she was in the corridor of his apartment building.

So taken aback was Edgeworth that this time, he did not even have the courage to utter a word. Mrs. Skye talked first, immediately wishing to explain the reason for her sudden arrival.

"M-Mr. Edgeworth", she voiced in a tone as shaky as her body, "I…I'm sorry, I…I didn't have…" She paused, trying to stabilize herself," I didn't have your telephone number. I-I lost it. I-I went first to your office, stupidly of course, as it is the holidays and all, I only realized when you weren't responding, so many things were going on in my head, I-I guess I got confused, and-and then I went to see the security guard, and she told me wher- I-I mean, what your address was, I was really so confused, I-I guess she just took pity in me, an-and an-anyway, I took the bus with the little money I had left, and…"

Edgeworth, not exactly unruffled either, interrupted her: "Mr-Mrs Skye, please calm down, you are talking very fast, and I do not exactly understand where you are going with this." She sighed, paused again to catch her breath, and told him: "Mr. Edgeworth, I…I have no place to go." Her lips quivered. She bit her lower lip, inhaled again to calm herself down, and tightened her grip around her suitcase: "It's burned. All of it. It's all burned down."

About an hour later, Lana Skye was half asleep on Edgeworth's living room couch. She'd been petting Pesu, stroking the collie's fur, murmuring something about how she resembled a miniature Lassie before gently closing her eyes, slowly inhaling and exhaling, loosening the fingers of her hand to rest a while.

Edgeworth could see it. He could perceive how she was in need of some sort of comfort. As if her abandoned fingers were looking for a feeling of warmth. He stared at the palm of her left hand, like it was calling him to touch it. He felt a sudden rush to his face. Guilty, he instantly turned his back to the couch, and decided to retire to his bedroom, leaving her in the pale blue evening light that darkened his living room.

He now started to feel disoriented in his own home. Her luggage had been placed near the tallest wardrobe of his room. It felt as if she had changed the space with just that suitcase and those few plastic bags on top of it. He took his glasses off, and seated himself on his bed, sighing once more. He tried to recollect in his mind the main bits of information she had anxiously given him once seated on his couch, still trembling from her experience, with a hot mug of tea. Four Red Fruits the flavor.

She'd come home from the supermarket later than usual, as she had forgotten at the last minute to buy something. She'd quickly gone back to the store. Upon returning to the building where she was staying with Ema, she discovered that the first floor (Ema's floor) had almost been completely burned down. The fire department was there, their red trucks parked right in front of the entrance. Noise, chaos, shrieks, smoke, water. Blood rushing through her veins, frozen stiff, Lana had practically fainted when confronted with this horrible scene. So weak a picture this was of her that she didn't mention these details to Edgeworth in her narrative…

Finally allowed to go upstairs, she'd heard that it was in their apartment where the blaze had started. She'd gone in, and seen that almost all of their belongings had been deeply affected by the fire. She'd only managed to save some clothes and other possessions. The firemen's inspection had not been complete, and they could not determine yet the exact cause of the incident. Lana nevertheless confessed to Edgeworth her suspicions about the event being premeditated…

Mrs. Skye had then called her sister on her cell, trying to sound the least panicked as possible on the phone, to calmly explain the situation. "Ema is currently on a trip abroad, for work that is, with a whole forensics team from LA. Some sort of complex investigation, something about a smuggling ring if I can recall", clarified Lana to Edgeworth. She'd then talked to the firemen, who told her to call someone she knew in town to stay with them for a couple of weeks.

"I…I did not know who to turn to…" Lana was too tired and stressed out to hide her despair. "With Ema gone, I really have no other relatives or friends in the city anymore. I was so distressed, I just couldn't think properly at all, and, well...I only thought of your name. Only your name crossed my mind." Her clasped hands pressed against her forehead, both elbows on her knees, Mrs. Skye did not look like the former cold and collected Chief Prosecutor anymore. She was obviously struggling to keep the frailty of her voice under control. She seemed to notice herself how expressive she was about her helplessness when she added: "I really feel I've become weak. I haven't lost everything of course, let's not be melodramatic, but…I feel I've become so dependent, so needy towards other people these days. I feel ashamed coming here like this. If it weren't for these terrible circumstances, I never would have dreamt of imposing myself in such an indecent way, Mr. Edgeworth, believe me…"

Edgeworth managed, with difficulty nonetheless, to find the right words to reassure her. "Mrs. Skye. I understand. There is no need to worry. You are welcome to stay here as long as you need to."

Though clearly not entirely convinced, Lana showed a more relieved expression on her face. "I cannot thank you enough for your support, Mr. Edgeworth. This morning was such a nightmare. I've been left so disarmed. I don't even have enough cash on me for a hotel". She pressed her hands harder against her forehead. "Not even enough money left. God, I need to find a job, fast!" Realizing she was muttering so openly to Miles Edgeworth about her problems, she stopped talking, proudly raised her head and took another sip from her tea.

Seeing how tired she was, Edgeworth proposed that she rest a while. He became aware of how nervous he was, still not quite comfortable with the idea of a distressed and lonely woman staying overnight in his home. And it had to be, of all women, his former mentor, who seemed so out of character in that precise moment. Somehow, a sense of uneasiness overcame him each time she pronounced his last name in that semi-fragile tone of hers…

Night had fallen. Still deeply perplexed, Miles kept reflecting on Mrs. Skye's suspicions about the fire being premeditated, all calculated by the harassers living in her neighborhood. There would have to be investigations of course, and an intervention of the police to confirm this. Would it be considered as biased if Edgeworth should ask Detective Gumshoe to open an inquiry? Should the prosecutor interfere at all in this affair? Would it not be wounding her self-esteem if he did?

So many questions going through his head, Miles could not even appreciate the new SS: WONOT episode. The Steel Samurai was celebrating with his family the Jolly Santa Samurai's visit on the eve of Christmas, throwing shiny new spears in bright colorful packages for the little Iron Infants from the roofs of Neo Olde Tokyo under the moonlight. Normally, this kind of action would have deeply thrilled any Steel Samurai fanboy. But Edgeworth could not concentrate on his flat screen TV (specially installed in his bedroom for late broadcastings of old episodes he'd missed during working hours). The dialogues and images refused to stimulate him or help him forget his troubles.

He did not hear Lana next door. She'd stumbled while getting up from the sofa, feeling lost when waking up in such a large obscure living room. Miles' apartment was quite spacious, as it belonged to a building in one of the city's most expensive residential areas. Uneasy in this unknown luxurious place, Lana apprehensively wandered in the room to find the main light switch, or some kind of lamp to turn on. She suddenly saw a light coming from the left side of the hall. She walked towards it. She heard strange noises as well from that direction. She found a door slightly ajar. She assumed it to be an office, the noise maybe being a tape Edgeworth was working with for some case or another. It did not enter Lana Skye's mind that Miles Edgeworth would watch television for leisure…in his boudoir of all places…

It came to a shock for both of them when she quietly opened the door, revealing one of the lawyer's most outrageous secrets (from his own viewpoint, at least).

"O-O-OH! Uh-uh-uh-uuuuh, M—mada-mrs-mrs Mrs Skye!" Miles agitatedly jumped off his seat, wrongly readjusted his glasses, and frantically searched the covers for his remote control, in vain, as it had fallen off the bed with the entire ruckus.

"Oh God, Mr. Edgeworth!" Lana quickly looked away. "I am so sorry, I really didn't mean to interrupt you while you were watching…watching…" Not knowing at all what the prosecutor was looking at, Lana turned red in the face. He wasn't actually….No…He could NOT be watching…

She felt a considerable sense of relief when seeing the live-action show still colorfully continuing on the screen. She then remembered something. While a fretful Edgeworth continued to search for his lost remote control, she exclaimed:"Why of course! I had completely forgotten! You are a Steel Samurai fan, aren't you? Now I remember." Edgeworth stopped searching. He stopped to think. How could she...? How could she have known that in the first place? All of a sudden, a memory from the past came rushing through his head.

2015. Los Angeles' main police station.

Proudly walking down the hall, a 23-year-old Miles Edgeworth, already nicknamed the "Demon Attorney" and considered as the "Prodigy Prosecutor" among his colleagues, was consulting once more his documents he'd taken out from his briefcase. He stopped at the door with the nameplate written on it: "Lana Skye: Police Detective" and knocked. He heard her soft voice on the other side telling him to please wait a moment. He sat on a chair nearby, trying to calm himself down. He kept thinking how unusual it was for someone like him to have itchy feet…

A few nervously elapsed minutes later, the door opened, and a tall bearded heavy-built white-haired man with a smiling face in a flamboyant suit came out, shaking the hand of the woman who followed him. The man then noticed Edgeworth, who gracefully bowed to him, respectfully greeting him. The Chief of Police laughed in return, gave him a hard slap on the shoulder, telling him he'd be glad to see him "…another time, Worthy!" The man then whispered something in Mrs. Skye's ear, and left. Mrs. Skye, a little perplexed from the previous visit, shook her head, then smiled at Miles: "Hello, Mr. Edgeworth. I was expecting you. Please come in and make yourself comfortable."

His shoulder still aching, Miles carefully sat down in the seat Mrs. Skye had so kindly asked him to take. With her typical sunny expression, she sat down in her own chair, briskly cleared up her desk from her files, and looked up to him with her deep bright eyes, thus indicating he could speak.

Miles had learned by now to stand up for himself in front of other professionals, who sometimes persisted in seeing him as a child. But with Detective Skye, he could not help being so childishly nervous around her, trying desperately to avoid her gaze, constantly rubbing his sweaty palms on anything he touched, breathing the whole time a bit too heavily, stuttering in the most ridiculous fashion…It was a struggle to remain collected in front of her. The worst was that it was not a particularly painful struggle. There was something agreeable about the whole experience afterwards, but he could not grasp where this strange sensation came from. This fact only made Miles even more unconfident, thinking how completely illogical his whole behavior was.

Nevertheless, he knew that she always treated him with great respect: every time they would see each other, she would carefully listen to his thoughts on the matter at hand, and seriously consider his reflections on the case they were working on. This time again, she was attentively reading the last notes he had written down about the closure of the SL-9 Incident.

While she was doing this, Miles managed to utter with great effort, concentrating on a specific dot on the wall of her office while talking: "Um, Detective Skye. My…well…" He paused, nervously scratching his head. Oh, what an idiot he was! He could not even speak correctly in front of her anymore! He tried again. "Mr. Von Karma has told me you have been designated as the next Chief Prosecutor. I-I wished to congralutate…I mean, to congratulate you."

She looked up from the file. He knew how impolite he was by not making eye contact. He took the risk. He met her gaze. His face then grew a very dark shade of crimson.

She smiled. "Then you've probably heard the other news. That from the moment I become Chief Prosecutor, I will equally become your mentor." She carefully put the file on her desk. "Mr. Von Karma has indeed discussed this many times with Mr. Gant, who you've just run into. They've both agreed it would be a good idea. But your opinion is the most important thing, Mr. Edgeworth. Do YOU think this is a judicious decision?" She waited for his answer, her eyes smiling.

Mr. Edgeworth felt a vivid sense of burning inside his stomach. He was touched by the fact she was asking for his personal view on the situation to be able to make a decision. With Mr. Von Karma, he would have had to accept anything because, well, there was no because. This was simply his duty towards his mentor: he had to obey his orders. But this time, his own thoughts were actually valuable…

Did he want her as a mentor? Some flame inside him seemed to have been lightened up when she asked him the question. But he pushed it back. He tried to turn it off. He had to. He could not think such things. He should not actually want, or desire anything. He continued nonetheless to imagine her as his tutor in a distant future. A future where she would be his guide. He already knew he could trust her completely. She was one of the few people in the world he was ready to wholly rely on.

She was certainly different from the "King of Prosecutors". She was evidently bright, incredibly intelligent and powerful, and yet, she emanated a feeling of gentleness, of softness that Miles had never seen in anyone else before. She looked after him in a way that was completely different from anyone else's way of dealing with him.

He was ready to come up with a more contained answer when, out of nowhere, he let his briefcase fall from his lap. Every single file slipped out of it. All of his papers fell on the floor. Every sheet mixed itself with another. "Oh!" Miles, now completely frazzled, could only let out this interjection.

She rapidly got up from her chair. Leaning towards him, she crouched down like him to help him pick up his documents. "Oh dear, Mr. Edgeworth! Here, let me help you!" Miles, breathing hurriedly, his sight blurring, ashamed she had to assist him and bend down to the same level as him, hastily placed every paper back in its respective file, a little less methodically than he usually did.

And then, it happened. He saw it on the floor. He was ready to seize it, but too late. Dread drowning his senses, he saw her take it. She could have just put it back in the case, but no. She hesitated. She'd noticed. She curiously started examining its cover, opening it to the first page. He, however, had iced up by now. A terrible pause.

"You…read the Steel Samurai comics, Mr. Edgeworth?"

Miles closed his eyes. No. No. No. This could not be happening. Of every misadventure that could have occurred in that moment…He opened his eyes again. He had to confront her with the truth. What else was he going to do? "Y-yes, as a matter of fact, I do."

She continued. "Yes, I know this series. It's a live-action show too, isn't it? I think my little sister Ema watches it". She'd, voluntarily or not, insisted on the term "little". Miles uncomfortably leaned himself against the table to be able to stand up properly. "Yes, umm…I believe it to be a…(Oh God, how was he going to complete that sentence?)…a very…family-friendly show, and um…it has a very…enthralling story, you see."

She laughed. Oh Goodness. Was she making fun of him? "That is basically how my sister describes it. I've never really sat down with her and watched it, though. What is it that makes it so entertaining?"

Relieved her laughter wasn't mocking, Miles relaxed his body, and answered by explaining why he found it so captivating: "Well, first of all, it is incredibly well-written. The characters are very well constructed. The protagonist is a lonesome hero who fights until the end with incredible bravery against all obstacles. Though he sometimes questions his actions, he keeps his uncertainties to himself, and still proudly follows his destined journey until the end." After he finished, there seemed to be an awkward silence. He uneasily cleared his throat.

"I…can see why you would like it. Yes. It suits you, doesn't it? ", Lana softly said. She noticed from Miles' expression he did not know how to respond to that. She eased the mood and laughed again. Seeing her this way, he felt more tranquil. He'd noticed with the end of the SL-9 Incident she'd changed somehow. Something inside her had been disturbed. She was still smiling, laughing, making jokes, but it was in some way less natural than before. But now, in that very instant, she was laughing with a true smile…

The idea of her becoming distant made him shudder. He had not wanted to admit it, even to himself, but the first time Mr. Von Karma had told him she would become Chief Prosecutor after the SL-9 case, he'd been frightened. He was scared someway she would be lost to him. Again, another person that would slip away from him. But now, as his mentor, she would be close. Even better: closer than before.

He did not want to deceive her. He surprised her when putting out his hand and announcing in a very mature voice: "Mrs. Skye. I do not want to be a burden on you. But I thank you wholeheartedly for accepting me as your protégé. After all, I am now entirely in your debt."

2025. Miles Edgeworth's apartment.

They did not speak. He was still sitting on the bed. She was still standing next to the door. Even though they weren't communicating, they both understood. They knew they were both remembering the same scene.

She opened her mouth, and let out a small sound, a timid mutter. He turned to look at her, but she shook her head in a "it's nothing important" way. He stiffly got up, his lower body numb. He walked towards her, aiming for the doorway. She misunderstood, believing he hoped to talk further. She shook her head again, and raised her hand, wanting to speak first. "Mr. Edgeworth." His head made a brisk movement. He stood still. He gravely folded his arms, and looked at her with his piercing grey eyes, as if questioning her. Edgeworth could sometimes, in a conversation, unwillingly give a cold impression to the person he was speaking with. Lana Skye however was not taken aback.

She continued in a neutral, yet strained, tone of voice: "I do not wish to disturb you any further." She closed her eyes, re-opened them. "You've already been so generous by accepting me here. I will try to make myself as discreet as possible." Unconsciously, she added: "After all, I am now entirely in your debt."

Hey everyone!

I'm so sorry about the typos that were here the first time I uploaded this chapter. Hopefully, I've corrected all of them. Even when I re-read a 100 times, there are still some errors that escape me. Oh dear...

I want to thank everyone who has been following this story, it really means a lot. I should be able to upload a chapter every 2 weeks for the coming months now. Thanks again!