trace (vestiges)

He manages to conceal his surprise at Pearls' fervent hold around his waist as she hugs him goodbye- just barely. Thankfully, he is able to hide his (increasingly-more insipid as of late) smile and merely nods, fighting back the affection in his tone as he says dryly, "Be good, Miss Fey."

"Okay, Mr. Ejiworth! See you soon!" she says, releasing him at last and retrieving her backpack from Phoenix's awaiting hands.

As she turns to run into the front gate of Kurain Village, Miles crosses his arms, leans against his car, and nods in amusement towards Maya; the elder Fey's arms are laden with gifts which she is struggling to retrieve from his opened car trunk. Raising a brow, Miles asks, "Would you like some assistance with that?"

Maya shakes her head, her cheeks puffed out in determination as she manages to balance everything she has been given for her birthday celebration at the Wright & Co. Law Offices earlier that day in her thin arms. "Pfft, I'll be fine," she says easily, although the strain in her tone is evident.

Phoenix, for one, is not moving to help her. Instead, he comes to stand beside Miles, leaving a few chaste inches between them; the distance is not enough to quell the heat radiating off his body, nor the sheer joy which oozes from every pore. His grin is infectious; it has been all day, from the moment Miles arrived with the slightly-misshapen cake that morning to the office, all celebrated by a slew of their closest colleagues and friends.

And Larry. Miles still cannot for the life of him figure out why Larry is always around.

But Miles shall not say a word- not while Phoenix is glowing, every muscle in his body so perfectly at peace that the prosecutor hardly dares to speak for fear of shattering that happiness. Phoenix's adoration for giving to others knows no bounds, after all. Being able to celebrate Maya's 19th birthday with her, with all the pomp and circumstance which Phoenix says Mia would have provided, has lit up this day in Phoenix's heart, without a doubt.

That is why Miles had been so willing to drive the hours it takes to get to Kurain after the event. There is a rite of passage which only villagers can attend, meaning Maya had needed to return home as soon as possible; Miles did not mind whatsoever to bring the young woman back up there, for it is the perfect opportunity to not only enjoy the light conversation between her and young Pearl, but also to simply bask in Phoenix's joy. It is rare, seeing the attorney so perfectly pleased- outside of the bedroom, at least.

However, when Maya turns to Miles and murmurs over armfuls of gifts, "Hey, Miles- wanna check the place out? You haven't been here, right?" Miles does not answer the way he would have expected. He had been mulling over the idea of finally seeing the famed Kurain Village the entire ride up, wondering whether it would be better to acquiesce and go on whatever roundabout tour the girls would give him, or whether he would prefer to simply take Phoenix home and hold the attorney whilst the man was still basking in his high of having held a successful party for Maya. Finally, Miles had thought it would not hurt to explore- it is Maya and Pearl's home, right?

Yet, as he looks at the gates now, Miles finds his throat clogging up, heart suddenly racing as a wave of dizziness knocks him off-balance, causing him to lean back once more upon his car. "I… I think it would be best if you took the daylight to settle in," he replies evenly, lifting his eyes towards Maya and registering nothing but her vague outline. Through clenched teeth, he adds, "Besides, should you not put away those gifts before the ceremony tonight?"

He can hear the pout in her voice, but the young woman relents easily. "I guess…" Miles keeps his strained smile upon his face, praying it does not feel like a grimace as he feels his hand stray automatically to his elbow, clutching and clawing, begging to ground him into reality.

The ground does not shake. So why does he fear so?

He faintly hears Phoenix saying goodbye to the girls and walking them inside, but he does not move. It is only when a gentle hand touches his desperately-clinging touch that Miles snaps out of it, body lurching at the sudden jolt of life. Immediately, Phoenix raises a cool, yet tender hand to his forehead, murmuring, "Hey, you're looking pale, Edgeworth. Should we head back now?"

Mutely, Miles nods, walking over on numb legs to the other side of the car. As Phoenix settles in, he focuses on naught but regulating his breathing; once his vision has cleared, he turns on the vehicle, ensures he can see straight, and slowly turns back onto the road leading down the mountain path.

Thankfully, the road is empty and the day is bright despite the sun creeping closer to the horizon. Miles drives slowly in the wake of his jittery nerves, the image of the gates of Kurain burned into his memory. But why-

"It's because the DL-6 incident began there, isn't it?" Phoenix says softly.

Miles splutters, looking over to Phoenix in shock, but the attorney merely points to the next trucking exit. "There's a rest stop there. Let's take a breather." His voice is kind, but firm, so Miles nods and brings them off the road and into the wide, empty lot.

Phoenix is out of the car and opening Miles' door before the man has the keys out of the ignition. His legs still feel like jelly, however, so he accepts Phoenix's helping hand to get him up and out of the car; the duo walk slowly over to a bench situated beside a lonely phone booth overlooking the distant city below. It's a beautiful sight, especially with the sun reflecting off of apartment buildings and all the evidence of modernity in the distance, putting the traditional, almost ancient aura of Kurain's wooden frames and spiritual air in sharp relief to their own destination. Miles drinks in the sight slowly. It is easier to focus on that than to begin unpacking what Phoenix has so suddenly brought to light.

Unfortunately, Phoenix shall not let this lie, it seems. "You've been out of it since we looked at the village," he says matter-of-factly. "Is it because of DL-6?"

Slowly, Miles croaks back, "What would-"

"That's where it all began- for Mia and Maya, and for you, too."

That's where all the tragedy began.

Miles takes a moment to consider this. If it hadn't been for the spirit channelling, would Maya still have a mother? Would Miles still have a father? Would von Karma have sunken his claws so deeply into Miles' psyche?

Would he have ever left Phoenix alone to suffer like he had, over and over again, from childhood to his more recent disappearances?

"…perhaps it is the village," Miles says slowly, letting out a long, weary sigh. "I… never quite thought of it like that."

A gentle hand comes to rest on his other shoulder as Phoenix wraps an arm comfortingly around Miles. "It's okay," he smiles. "You don't need to go inside."

Suddenly, a thought strikes him. Miles jerks upright, frantic. "It- I do not harbour any feelings of ill will towards the Feys, I want you to know-"

Phoenix merely rolls his eyes. "Of course you don't- no one helps bake a birthday cake and drives home someone they hate." With a small pout, Phoenix adds, "And honestly, you see Maya more than me sometimes. I swear, that damn samurai series creates the weirdest friendships."

Miles feels the chuckles rumble from his core, alleviating some of the strain and anxiety in his heart. Turning his eyes back to the sight over the cliff face, he murmurs, "It's a good view. How did you know?"

The attorney snorts at the change in topic, but replies anyways. "One time when I was leaving, the bus broke down around here. It's nice, right?"

For a moment, Miles hesitates. Then, he gulps down his fear and grabs onto Phoenix's hand, still slung comfortingly over his shoulder. Although they are alone, to be doing this in broad daylight still fills him with anxiety- they do not show this kind of intimacy in plain sight, after all.

Phoenix hums, his contentment oozing from every pore. "I'm glad you like it. I thought you would." Those words are spoken with such honest, earnest truth that Miles can hardly formulate any words in response. How can he possibly reply that being able to appreciate this view, that being able to give himself the time to appreciate this view, is a gift only Phoenix has ever been able to give him?

And then, just like that, the warmth in his heart fades.

His pocket vibrates.

He knows what the message upon his phone shall be- he has received a few more of them as of late, the clock ticking down, an ever-tightening noose which threatens to form a stranglehold upon this happiness of his lest he not bring it up.

Phoenix notices him tensing up, concern immediately pulling his brow. "What is it? Are you feeling sick?" Grimacing, Phoenix glances over his shoulder. "I think I have some anti-nausea meds in my jacket since Pearls gets carsick-"

"I- I need to tell you something," Miles splutters out.

Instantly, the grip upon his fingers, upon his shoulder, tightens. "…okay, about?"

Gulping down bile and guilt, Miles finally sucks in a breath and murmurs, "My mentor invited me to go back to Germany."

Phoenix does not speak. He merely turns his head back to face the view, the sunlight illuminating his strong, proud features with a light that simultaneously brightens his face to glow like a deity's, and ages him ten years as he stiffens, hardens, closes off.

With a sigh, Miles hangs his head low. I'm in too deep now. "Someone is going on maternity leave," he explains softly. "She'll have her hands full with twins- once they're born, she'll be gone for at least a year. They want me to fill her position rather than hiring someone unknown."

Tightly, Phoenix replies in a painfully-even voice, "And what, one year with you there already wasn't enough?"

Wincing, Miles attempts to chuckle. It does not work to bring a smile upon Phoenix's face. "Apparently not. I am not just any old prosecutor, Wright."

Phoenix breathes in deep, his chest rising as his lungs fill, stretch, grow; then, he exhales, collapsing inwards, his head hanging a little lower than before. He repeats this action, wavering between this blusterous, proud silhouette to the image of a man who has been kicked far too many times when he is down.

After a minute of this, Phoenix finally straightens his shoulders and turns to face Miles, a smile on his face. "I'm happy for you, Edgewo-"

"If you tell me to stay here, I will."

Phoenix's smile freezes in place. "…what?"

Miles moves Phoenix's hand away from him, gathering long, callused fingers in his hands and squeezing gently. "I… if you tell me to stay, I will. I've only been back a few months, but I'm no fool, Wright- I know that you are still worried, that you still do not know the verity of my affections. And for that, I'm sorry."

"No," Phoenix immediately attempts to splutter, "no, I don't doubt you, Miles! It's fine, just-"

"I left you before, and I hurt you more than I can ever apologize for." Sighing, Miles hangs his head. "If you tell me to stay, I will. I do not need to go to Germany. I have a perfectly acceptable path to success here. And if my staying here will be a comfort or support to you, then I'd rather be here, anyways."

For a long moment, Phoenix's eyes dart desperately across Miles' face, searching for lies in his words, cracks in his armour. Eventually, he realizes the truth that Miles has laid bare- that there is no armour, that this is Miles' truth.

He shall stay, if that is what Phoenix wants. This is the conclusion Miles has reached after countless nights of debate. Working in Germany would help him undoubtedly, but this wan, crumbling attorney shall always take priority. He shall not leave Phoenix without a word ever again.

"This will be good for you, won't it?" Phoenix finally asks, hesitant and careful. "It'll help you in court."

Miles cannot help the wry, tender smile which springs forth. Of course Phoenix understands. "I'm a lot better than you still, Wright," he says teasingly, "but I'm not what I could be. I want to be better."

"Why?"

"To support you." That's all he has ever wanted, after all.

Phoenix flushes, then turns away, white teeth appearing to bite down on a cracked lip. Miles notices this, heart clenching; he silently retrieves mint lip balm from Phoenix's breast pocket and tilts the other man's chin up, applying the balm over cracked skin rubbed and split from laughter and anxiety and a lack of sleep. When he is done, the other man's face is well and truly red, although his eyes still appear torn beyond measure. Quietly, he says, "…You're scared I'll leave for good, aren't you?"

That, apparently, is the trigger. Thin, mint-covered lips press into a thin line, thick brows furrowing together, large eyes filling with tears that cannot be held back under the guise of well-wishes and pride. "What if you don't come back next time?" Phoenix gasps, hanging his head low.

Miles' wants to cry, too. Seeing Phoenix shatter like this- he shall never know how to face it head-on, especially not when he himself is the cause. Still, he reaches out and drags the other man's head to his shoulder, feeling hot tears scald his skin through his button-down. "I will," he promises.

"Where's the guarantee, though?! You left once, and- and- god, Miles, I can't do it again-"

"I have to come back," Miles repeats, lifting Phoenix away in order to look the other man in the eyes. He smiles, pulling out his handkerchief in order to wipe away fat tears from flushed cheeks. "You're here, so I have to come back," he repeats firmly. "You've always been what I've come back to."

Phoenix shudders. "If I say no, you'll stay?"

"I will." But Wright, you won't say no. You're too proud to ask me to stay. Then, Miles shakes his head, smiling softly to himself. No, you won't ask me to stay because you want what's best for me. You've always done your best for me.

He does not like doing this kind of thing in public. Still, he leans forward and captures Phoenix's trembling lips against his own, only pulling back once the other man's weight has truly melted into his own arms in his weariness. "If I go, I'll do my best to make you proud, Wright."

Phoenix snorts, face messy and ruddy as he takes the handkerchief and attempts to clean himself up. Thickly, he warbles, "And why would that matter to you?"

Miles does not answer. The silent understanding in Phoenix's bloodshot eyes is enough, leaving Miles with his consent, his heartache, and his loneliness. Miles treasures these things- the fact that Phoenix Wright is finally, truly vulnerable with him like this is proof enough that when Miles comes back to LA, he'll have the one man he's always loved there to welcome him home.