Anything But Love - Chapter Seven

He didn't see Miles again after that day.

Though he did not expect their meetings to resume, Phoenix still returned to that empty classroom at their usual times for a few weeks. He would sit there alone, reading law books or doing other homework, going over and over the events of that horrible day in his mind, coping with his guilt for allowing it to happen. He didn't run into Miles in the halls or in the cafeteria, and when he started asking around, it seemed no one else had seen him lately either. His professors all stated that he had not shown up for class since the week of midterm exams, and other students would just shrug, seeming relatively unconcerned.

Phoenix didn't dare step foot on the property of the Von Karma family. He knew precisely what would happen if he did.

Weeks became months, and the following summer found Phoenix traveling back overseas to his home state of California. He had focused only enough on his fine arts studies to achieve satisfactory scores, as those skills were not going to get him any closer to his goals. He spent most of his free time buried in law books, and upon his return to the States, he changed his major.

He'd done a lot of thinking, and he had decided that his best chance was to take the Bar Exam and step into the courtroom as a defense attorney. His first thought had been prosecutor, of course, as they were the ones who worked directly to put criminals behind bars with their guilty verdicts. However, just the thought of carrying the same job title as that monster brought with it a dizzying wave of nausea and the bitter taste of bile. Instead, he had decided that his best hope was to challenge Von Karma in court, to defeat and deface him for the whole world to see. Then, perhaps he wouldn't seem so untouchable. Besides, if charges were leveled against Phoenix in return, he wanted to have the knowledge and skill to stand up for himself.

Yes, the idea of defeating a man who had not been in nearly forty years was more than daunting, but Phoenix lacked for no amount of determination. Shortly after his return to America, he had a run-in with an upstart attorney by the name of Mia Fey, and while she was a beginner, he was awed by her genius and her performance in court. He got in contact with her, and soon told her of his goal to take down the corrupt villain that was Manfred von Karma, though he kept his primary reason to himself. He had somewhat expected her to laugh at him, to call him a naive idealist, but instead she had seemed impressed with his fire. As it turned out, she too was chasing down a villain of her own, and she agreed to help him.

Two and a half more years of constant study and many sleepless nights, Phoenix Wright fastened his brand new attorney's badge to the lapel of his brand new blue three-piece suit.

Mia cocked her head, a proud smile resting comfortably on her lips. "It suits you perfectly, Phoenix," she stated. "A fully licensed attorney at age twenty-two: I hope you're ready to have your picture in the paper."

Phoenix smiled back at her, then turned to check his reflection in the mirror on the back of the door and straighten out his tie. "Yeah, I like the way it looks on me. I sure hope Von Karma reads the morning news." Two years ago, he'd seen a report that Manfred von Karma had returned to the United States after a ten-year span working over in Europe. As far as the young attorney knew, he had not left, which was perfect.

"I know you're eager, but just make sure to stay smart about this," Mia cautioned. "You're not going to just step into the courtroom on your first case and take down a legend. It's still going to take some time and a lot of hard work."

Phoenix let out a slow breath, watching his own shoulders slump. "Yeah, I know, but I just hope he realizes I'm coming for him."

A somewhat bitter laugh sounded behind Mia's closed lips. "Phoenix, I'm going to be completely honest with you: he probably won't even give you a second thought. That man's arrogance knows no bounds. He won't even consider you a threat and probably won't even bother remembering your name."

"Heh..." A somewhat dark smirk came over the young man's face. "Oh, no, I'm sure he remembers my name. I've already rivaled him once; just... not in the way anyone would expect."

In the mirror, he saw Mia raise an eyebrow at his back, but she didn't ask for clarification. "In any case, congratulations. I'll see to getting you on your first case as soon as possible."

Phoenix turned around to give her a genuine smile. "Thanks, Chief. I never would've been able to do this without your help. You have no idea how much this means to me, and... I'm hoping that soon, there will be someone else that owes you their gratitude."

Mia just smiled at him. "You can thank me by finding a way to bring down that menace."


Two weeks later, one snowy afternoon found Phoenix alone in his apartment, poring over his very first case file. Mia had chosen it for him, entrusting him with one of her clients. The more he studied the evidence and the reports, the more confident Phoenix became in his ability to tear down the prosecution's flimsy case, and he still had a couple of days to prepare.

His cup of coffee stopped just at his lips when he heard a sharp series of knocks on his front door. Strange - he hadn't been expecting anyone. Mia always called before paying him a visit, and he was sure his friend amongst the detectives was still on the clock. Larry sometimes showed up unannounced, but his knocking would have been much more obnoxious. He also doubted any of those door-to-door people would be out in weather like this. Perhaps it was one of his neighbors, though he couldn't imagine what they could want.

Slowly, he leaned forward to set his mug on the coffee table along with the case file and stood. Apparently, he was taking too long as the knock came again while he was skirting around the couch to get to the door. "I'm coming!" he called to his impatient visitor, taking the last few steps and turning the deadbolt.

When he opened the door, he was met with the sight of a young woman - perhaps not even technically a woman yet - whom he swore he recognized. Features of her face were familiar, but it was her hair color that immediately stood out to him. He'd seen it somewhere before, but only once. She was dressed to the nines and heeled boots added several inches to her height. One gloved hand rested on a hip, where he saw the coil of what appeared to be a whip. "Phoenix Wright," was her way of greeting him, her voice sharp and crisp as the gust of wind that had blown into the apartment as the door had opened. "I don't suppose you know who I am?" Something in her tone conveyed that she would be quite perturbed if he didn't.

As she'd been speaking, the wheels had been turning in his head, and it didn't take long for something to click. "Von Karma," he said, forcing all emotion out of his voice. He didn't remember her first name, but the image of Manfred von Karma's daughter sitting atop the cream-colored mare had come back to him fairly quickly. She still had that same cold, haughty look about her, and the resemblance to her father brought an instinctive feeling of mistrust.

He saw her fingers flex on her whip. "Prosecutor Franziska von Karma, and I suggest you address me with due respect or else face the consequences."

Not at all intimidated thanks to years of nursing righteous hatred, Phoenix just raised an eyebrow and folded his arms. "Or, I could just close the door and not have to deal with your attitude. Let me guess: your father sent you here to scare me?"

Franziska sneered at him. "Ha! What would make you think yourself important enough to even become a passing thought in my Papa's subconscious? Don't flatter yourself, Phoenix Wright; I am here of my own volition." Her expression went back to what was apparently its neutral state. "Now, are you going to call upon what little manners you might possess and invite me in, or shall we stand here and freeze?"

Phoenix snorted derisively. "And why would I invite you in? You haven't even told me why you're here. All you've done is stand there and try what little patience I have for people like you."

She glared at him again, but his words seemed to have taken her by surprise. Apparently, few people dared to stand up to her, and he could see that her instinctive reaction was to use that whip she had at the ready, as her hand was twitching with restraint. When she spoke, her jaw was incredibly tight as she struggled to control her temper. "I am here about Miles Edgeworth. Now let me in or I will take my information and leave."

Now it was his turn to be taken by surprise. That name... He hadn't heard that name in four years, and to hear it now in such a way staggered him. He clutched the doorknob tightly as he processed the meaning of her words and her presence here, working to regain his composure. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "...Please come in, Ms. von Karma," he said at last, stepping aside to allow her into the apartment.

He could see the disdain in her expression as she looked around the tiny place filled with cheap, old furniture and very little in the way of decoration. He also hadn't bothered to clean in a few days, so while the place wasn't disgusting, it was unorganized and in need of both dusting and vacuuming. "Have a seat wherever you like," Phoenix invited - already knowing there was nowhere she would particularly like to sit - and moved into the small kitchen. "Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee's still hot."

"I will abstain," came her controlled response as she lowered herself onto the edge of one of the couch cushions, crossing her ankles and folding her hands in her lap.

"Okay." He returned to the living room to refill his own coffee mug, and after taking the pot back, he took a seat in his armchair and fixed his gaze on her face. "You said you came about Miles. What's going on? I haven't heard from him in four years."

"Hmph." She turned her head slightly to the side, looking away from him. "You have only yourself to blame for that. After all, what happened to him is most definitely your doing."

Not for the first time when considering Miles' fate, Phoenix felt sickening dread in the pit of his stomach. "What do you mean what's 'happened' to him?"

Franziska shot him an icy glare. "I don't know what you did to him, Phoenix Wright, but four years ago, my little brother gave it all up. He quit! He stopped going to classes, stopped studying law altogether, and became a complete recluse, hiding up in his room wallowing in some pathetic depression! After all Papa did for him, after every opportunity Papa gave him, he turned his back on everything he had been working toward, and it was all your fault!" An accusatory finger was now aimed in his direction to supplement the glare, and though his apartment was slowly starting to heat back up, he felt colder by the second.

"...I see..." He honestly didn't know what else to say, as he was still trying to process her words and what they could truly mean. Given up... Had Miles truly given up, or had something else happened that had forced him to do so? He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Manfred von Karma was responsible in some way for whatever had befallen Miles, but he knew that he shared some of the blame.

If he'd just been more careful, they wouldn't have been discovered that day and-

"Is that all you have to say for yourself?!" Franziska's hand fisted around the handle of her whip and she looked on the verge of quite literally lashing out at him. "You are solely responsible for breaking my little brother's spirit and undoing all my Papa's hard work, and that is ALL you have to say in your defense!? What incompetent fool gave you an attorney's badge!?"

"Solely responsible?" Phoenix gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, I don't think so. There's obviously a lot you don't know, Ms. von Karma, so I'll thank you to not come into my home and start accusing me of things blindly."

"How dare you?!" she snapped, getting to her feet, eyes blazing. "I am Franziska von Karma, prodigy prosecutor and heir to the Von Karma legacy! I will not have you suggest that I would make such baseless claims!"

"Would you please sit down and stop shouting? You're giving me a headache." Phoenix pinched the bridge of his nose, having trouble sifting through his thoughts with her yelling at him. "All I'm saying is that you're missing a lot of important information, stuff that I doubt anyone involved would want to share with you. If you can just tell me where Miles is..."

Franziska did not sit down, but she did lower her voice when she spoke next - a fair enough compromise, he supposed. "And what - pray tell - would my giving you that information accomplish? You are clearly uninterested in accepting your folly and making amends!"

Phoenix sat forward, fixing her with an intense stare. "Who said I wasn't interested in making amends? Ms. von Karma, I dare say that no one cares more about Miles than I do, and all that I've worked for these past few years has been so that - if I ever find him again - I can help him. He has suffered more than either of us know. So, if you know something that could help me stop him from suffering any more, I need you to tell me right now."

Franziska stood as rigid as a board, eyes locked with his, searching. Conflict waged deep below the surface, and he was honestly impressed at how well this teenage girl could mask her emotions, not that he was fooled. At long last, she lowered herself back down to the couch, looking no more relaxed for the new position.

"Miles Edgeworth came back here to America with Papa two years ago. Why Papa still tolerates his presence is beyond me, as he is no longer anything but dead weight, but that is the truth of it." She paused, taking another long span of time to study him before she spoke again. "Tell me, Phoenix Wright, if I were to direct you to my father's home where you can find Miles Edgeworth, what would you do?"

"I would do anything I could to help Miles get back on his feet, to bring him out of the horrible state he's been in for so many years and fix the damage that's been done to him." It was an answer he'd had long before she showed up to ask the question, thus he needed no time to think about it. Bringing down Von Karma would take time, maybe even years, but if he could rescue Miles from that Hell now, he was going to do so, no matter what it took.

She watched the grave expression on his face and the fire in his eyes, scrutinizing him one last time before she stood. "Come, then. I will show you to him, and you can see for yourself what your meddling has wrought."


Phoenix could feel his anxiety mounting with each step he took toward the large, two-story house tucked in the back of a rich suburban neighborhood on the outskirts of Los Angeles. There was some familiarity in the feeling, forcing him to recall his first time approaching the Von Karma manor back in Germany, only this time he wasn't doing so alone. There was no car in the driveway, so he was hoping that meant Manfred wasn't home; he hadn't bothered to ask Franziska about that particular detail, yet.

The two of them climbed the snow-dusted steps onto the covered porch, and it was then that Franziska turned to him. "Papa is not aware of my presence in this country," she informed him, this little tidbit coming as a slight surprise. "I came when I saw your face in the papers, in hopes of getting to the bottom of what has happened to Miles Edgeworth, but I chose not to inform my father that I was getting involved. Thus, I will not risk accompanying you inside. I will let you in with my copy of the key, but after that, you are on your own. Be warned: if you linger too long and are caught, I will simply claim no knowledge of the incident and you will be arrested for breaking and entering. Is this clear, Phoenix Wright?"

He frowned slightly, but didn't argue with her, impatient to get inside. "Crystal."

"Good." With that, the teenage girl turned and produced a set of keys, locating the correct one and unlocking the front door. "I bid you luck, Phoenix Wright, and I hope for your sake that you do not make me regret my decision to trust you in this."

Why does she keep using my full name? It's weird... "Thank you, Ms. von Karma. I'll take it from here." He did his best to wipe off his boots on the doormat and then stepped inside, allowing her to pull the door shut behind him, leaving him alone in the entryway of a very nice house.

The place was so quiet he could hear the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. It was absolutely eerie how perfectly arranged everything was, how still and silent and sterile. The place had an unreal feeling to it, which only added to his sense of dread. He had an urge to call out, not only to see if he got any kind of response from the man for whom he was searching, but also just to hear some kind of noise to make this place seem somewhat alive. He resisted that urge, however, feeling somehow safer in keeping quiet.

He moved throughout the house, taking extreme care not to disturb anything. This house had several rooms, but peering into each revealed nothing out of place. It hardly looked as if anyone lived here, and even the master bedroom showed only minimum signs of occupation.

He did feel somewhat relieved not to find Miles there, but that came with a deepening worry, as he had now checked every room in the house.

He went back down to the ground level and looked around for anything he might have missed. His gaze fell upon a small door near the stairs that he had previously assumed was a closet or perhaps a half-bathroom. He decided to just check it out, having exhausted all obvious options.

When he pulled the door open, he found himself gazing down a flight of carpeted steps into a dimly lit basement. The place lacked the musty scent one would usually associate with most basements, leading him to believe it was finished and well-maintained. Phoenix took in a deep breath, sure this had to be it, and began to descend, careful as this staircase was fairly steep.

At the bottom, Phoenix found himself in a deceptively-cozy sitting area. A black leather sofa sat a few feet off the back wall, a coffee table made of rich, dark wood centered in front of it. On the wall behind it spanned a large, well-stocked bookshelf, and on the wall to the far right was mounted a large display case, containing weapons of all kinds, from guns, to blades, to whips. The place was lit only by a tall lamp in one of the corners, giving it that moody look and casting deep shadows on the side of the room where Phoenix now stood.

Of course, that serene appearance was instantly undermined by the set of chains and shackles anchored to the wall across from where the couch sat, where any normal person might hang a television.

Phoenix swallowed hard as he took another look around, noticing two doors off to his left near the stairs. One was shut while the other was ajar, and he could see another soft light coming from inside. This had to be it. There was nowhere else he could be, unless Franziska had been mistaken or lying to him for some reason. With a deep breath to brace himself, Phoenix strode forward, slowly pushing the door open the rest of the way to peer inside.