Chapter Twenty-Five: She's Like The Wind

Phoenix Wright
Wright Talent Agency
September 4, 2020, 3:00 PM

Phoenix stared at the television set in his living room, idly flipping channels on the TV set in an attempt to unwind a bit before he started work in a few hours that night. It was the very same one on which he used to watch the Steel Samurai with her. The same one on which they heard the news about their future clients and their victories. It stayed there, far from him, as if to mock him. Far from him, just as she was.

It had been nearly nine months since Phoenix's self-imposed exile away from Maya. It had also been almost a year and a half since he'd lost his badge. It occurred to him that since Maya's last birthday, he'd seen the woman he loved on exactly two occasions. It was too depressing to even think about.

Both times had been to tell her goodbye.

Well, for the most part. And only for now, anyway. He wasn't kicking her out of his life. He didn't think he could ever endure that.

They still emailed while she traveled for her Master's conferences and training, many of which took her across the globe – he had souvenirs and postcards from most parts of Asia! – and they spoke on the phone, late at night after Trucy had gone to bed and he'd come home from another evening of "piano playing". Yes, that was still what Maya thought he did. Somehow he just couldn't find it in his heart to let his girlfriend (who against all odds, somehow hadn't lowered her opinion of him), know that he essentially ran an illegal poker gambling operation in the seedy pits of an icy hell. All the while using piano playing, and to his greater shame, his daughter, as a cover.

It was a telling sign, how low he'd sunken when despite all this, the thing he most felt guilty about was having her staying up so late just so they could chat since she often had early morning business meetings and such. But she always assured him not to worry, that it was a small price to pay.

Phoenix and Maya kept up their relationship, such as it was – but under strict wraps from Trucy, as it would just be too complicated to have her get ensnared into this tangled web – as well as the elders, who assumed Maya had acquiesced and cast him aside because they'd ordered her to.

Maya's birthday had come and gone in April. He hadn't even been able to speak to her that day, never mind seeing her. She'd been off on another remote retreat somewhere in Japan for the week before and after it, again with no electricity or technology access, so they hadn't even been able to Skype chat. However, when she'd returned to LA, she'd told him that the loving birthday e-card he'd sent her had been enough to assure her that out of sight didn't mean out of mind for him any more than it did for her.

Then she'd tearily professed that no matter where she went, she carried him in her heart, and had yet to take off the locket that he'd given her for her last birthday, as it was a tangible piece of him to always have with her.

Despite the forced joviality in his lover's tone as she assured him that she was still willfully accepting of her fate as his clandestine Juliet (after all, she was forbidden from seeing her beloved Romeo at her end now, too), she couldn't fool him in the slightest.

Phoenix, for his part, could sense that Maya was unhappy in the Kurain Master position and could not absolve his guilt that the disbarring had impeded her plans for balance and the opportunity to continue her life where she'd genuinely seemed her happiest - when she'd been his wisecracking office assistant.

Back then, things had been so simple. When life for both of them had been full of laughter and jokes and fun as they'd investigated the truth and fought for justice side by side. He sadly remembered how Maya had often told him that his kindness, his support, and his friendship had overshadowed everything else during her times of grief from the tragedies she'd had to suffer in-between. Later, when she'd found out that she had his love, on top of everything else, she'd sworn she could face anything else that life chucked at them.

It was what she still vowed now, to her boyfriend that she loved wholeheartedly but could seldom see. She could survive this separation, she assured him. As long as they loved each other, they could weather this storm. Like all other tragedies that had befallen them, this too would surely pass. Phoenix wasn't sure to whom Maya was trying to convince of that particular platitude. Was it him, or herself?

The hobo had never felt more frustrated, helpless, or miserable in his entire life. There wasn't a single day that went by that the same, futile thought didn't cross his mind at least a dozen times a day.

Damn those old hags of Kurain, with all their rules and all their icy stares! And damn that wretched Dragon Lady, Mystic Mildew to the fieriest pits of hell for being the catalyst behind this all!

Of course, for the sake of the Master of Kurain's reputation, the elders of Kurain strongly discouraged contact with a blemished lawyer, disbarred for using false evidence.

He thought it only tactless to intrude, as there was little practical help he could provide. After all, he was the source of much of her ongoing problems, and he was grateful that she had kept up their "friendship" despite the rest of society's ostracism and the stain it cast on her reputation.

So that was the latest tragic tale of how another nine months – the same length of time as a human pregnancy – had passed without him setting eyes on the love of his life. It was gut-wrenching, but what choice did he have? Their circumstances were hardly ideal for a normal relationship.

He had a daughter who had no idea of Maya's existence, and while her formalized adoption had at last been completely finalized the month before, there were other, far more sinister factors to consider. And he couldn't visit Kurain. Well, he could, Maya insisted, but she probably just didn't want to hurt his feelings. So he refused. He knew it would make things even more difficult for her right now.

As it turned out, The Dragon Lady hadn't been blowing smoke when she'd loftily informed him that Maya was now a woman to be revered! In fact, in some hasty research post State vs Iris, the ex-lawyer had discovered that the Kurain Master held far more power and influence than he'd ever suspected. Phoenix's self-esteem had taken a significant hit in the whole disbarring fiasco – what had possessed him to be so incomprehensibly stupid as to fall into that obvious trap and present that 'evidence?'

Consequently, he almost felt ashamed to associate with his lover, his negative public image being what it was and all.

To top it all off, his girlfriend had confided that despite being long gone and rotting in prison on death row, the vile stench of lies and mistrust that her aunt had left behind in her wake still ran rampant amongst many of the Elders. Lady Macbeth had completely screwed her niece over long before Maya had ever assumed the unwanted Master position. Although she wasn't there to bask in the fruits of her labor, even in her absence, the seeds Morgan the Maleficent planted had fully sprouted.

When Misty Fey had vanished, Pearl's wretched mother had gone about political 'restructuring' – which essentially meant commandeering as much power away from the actual Master as possible, and inflaming a pathological fear and resentment of law and legal circles, since they had been what 'destroyed' Misty and Mia. Kurain politics were the dirty stuff that White House wet dreams were made of. And this ghastly gaggle of women would undauntedly kill each other when and if things don't work out, by disturbing historic precedent.

Phoenix wished with all his heart he could go stick his foot up several asses, or, failing that, encourage those old bags to eat several kinds of dick! However, he knew anything he did would only worsen matters, as for one thing, it was only up until recently the world had stopped seeing the Kurain Technique itself as a fraud. And for another, all the village heavyweights thought he was the pointy-haired devil himself, the fraudulent criminal disbarred attorney who'd corrupted their new Master and ensured the apple hadn't fallen far from the tree as Misty, of course, had been lured to 'betray' them all by some lawyer.

There had been a nasty debacle after his disbarring where some shoddy tabloid had hypothesized if there had been a 'forged channeling' during the State vs. Iris trial! Mercifully, it'd been the sort of ill-reputed rag whose ideas of hard news tended to revolve around Elvis sightings in outer space and advocating miracle diet drugs that made you lose 21 pounds in 18 minutes! Phoenix had been beyond relieved that the lunacy hadn't spread further; he didn't know if he could have abided being the reason behind the Master yet again being a laughing stock, and whose business had tanked because ultimately, nobody wanted a forged channeling!

One of the Kurain cronies – without Maya's consent – went into damage control and informed the publication that the Master and Phoenix had severed all ties over the disbarring. The village head was naturally furious, but he'd told her to go with that story, at least for the moment.

It had been little wonder Mia had thought Maya would have been better off in the care of Phoenix than amongst her own people. The Kurain Master truly could have used the assistance of a practicing lawyer, one who could assist with updating Kurain laws, as well as assist the newly appointed leader make her own, to help get clout over the council of elders.

Nice one, Wright, ruining things for her. Phoenix brooded to himself as he idly flipped through the channels. I was right in making the call in staying away from her. As it is, I'm just detrimental to any chance of her gaining respect.

Dirty Dancing was playing on the TV set. Even though the classic 80's film was the mother of all chick flicks, Phoenix couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over him as he watched the handsome, graceful Johnny Castle effortlessly glide around his Baby, moving in perfect harmony with her to sultry, pulsating beats. Maya had loved this movie. Had even tried to clumsily reenact the famous dance number at the end, where the heroine had dashed across the crowded room to the side of her lover, where he'd effortlessly caught her in his strong arms and lifted her easily over his head.

In their case, the diviner been lucky she'd had him to break her fall, as all that had been achieved from her running leap efforts had been Phoenix winding up crumpled on the ground, with her sprawled on top of him! The two of them had better resembled a couple of askew pretzels rather than poetry in motion!

God, how he missed her! His burger-loving, chick-flick watching, wannabe tiny dancer!

Well, while it was true that the taut but lithe and dually left-footed Phoenix Wright possessed neither the muscles nor suave rhythmic moves of the late, great Patrick Swayze, there was one trait of the studly actor that he could potentially emulate ... if he only took the time…

Phoenix Wright
The Borscht Bowl Club
September 4, 2020, 10:45 PM

Phoenix truly, madly deeply hated The Borscht Bowl. It was always frigid and despite Olga's great pride in her signature-made dish, was there anything more genuinely disgusting and unpalatable than borscht?

What the hell even is borscht? It's red, so it could either be tomato soup or blood. And it smells as if it contains the supporting cast of The Little Mermaid! Ugh...Sebastian the Crab blood? Do shellfish even have blood? … All three contenders are gag-worthy, tomatoes, shellfish, and blood, so it's an ultimate pass on the borscht, no matter how many times Miss Olga Orly tries cramming her alleged homemade masterpiece down my throat!

On top of it all, he was finding his new miserable life intensely draining. He endeavored to keep positive around Trucy, who was largely his only motivation to get out of bed, but the blatant hostility and rejection from all his former acquaintances still pained him – the far away but not forgotten Edgeworth and his adopted "siblings", the Gumshoes, notwithstanding. Plus, his so-called "job" kept him on edge, since he'd never really considered himself a poker player and it was surely only a matter of time before he lost and was fired, and cultivating an uneasy "friendship" since the beginning of the year with that highly unpleasant Kristoph Gavin consumed all his powers of self-control.

Never in his life had Phoenix ever felt so bleak.

Without my unbroken poker win streak, I am nothing – and in this empty, meaningless game, it's the inconvenient truth, he lamented dejectedly. That's why I hope it doesn't matter that I don't even care anymore how much I use Trucy to cheat – that I shamelessly use my daughter as collateral, exploit her on my behalf when I'm supposedly now her legal guardian. I even feel like I've won, like it's a legitimate part of the game. Trucy probably just thinks it's a magic trick.

It was all just another part of the performance. An inescapable act on the Phoenix Wright Never-Ending Magic Show.

Boris and Natasha had known who he was right out of the gate. They'd hired him based on his reputation. His criminal reputation. There were all kinds of illegal betting rings and Lord knew what else going on within these freezing walls. He did his best to turn a blind eye, just as they'd always suspected he would.

"My other Daddy played here all the time," Trucy confessed to the pianist, shortly after he'd been hired. It had been one of his reasons for keeping the crummy job in this lousy hell. He had to believe that someday, somehow, the elusive Zak would turn up there one day.

His daughter kept him sane. Only around his daughter could he be something even remotely resembling his old self. But even then, ever since that fateful day she'd caught him pathetically weeping at the table over a year ago, it never escaped his mind that he could only ever reveal a subsection of his true feelings. After all, he was the adult, and she was the child. He couldn't upset her. He couldn't reveal his problems. He had to mask his pain and attempt to obscure at least some of his flaws. While he and the little magician had a very close and loving connection, it was far more of a mutual support partnership than surely most real fathers had with their daughters.

The hobo knew it was dysfunctional, the way he allowed Trucy to also look after him. He felt like shit-heel about that at times. He knew if he were a more responsible parent, he'd try harder to stop it. But he didn't. He couldn't. And he was all too painfully aware of what – who – he was compensating for.

The compulsion over that "occurrence" was what led him, like a lamb to slaughter, to repeatedly accept Kristoph Gavin's offers of hospitality, over and over again.

From their earlier meetings, the pianist soon got the impression Kristoph was a potentially dangerous individual and his instinct was to protect his girlfriend from the consequences – the whole disbarring mess had nothing to do with her. The seemingly affable German assumed that Phoenix and Maya were romantically involved. The erstwhile Ace Attorney spent quite a lot of time and effort deconstructing that impression so the defense lawyer would believe that they weren't. He had no concrete proof that it was his safest and best bet to lie about his love life – the German man had exuded nothing but genteel charm towards him. But the beanie man's magatama wasn't something to deny, and so the charade commenced.

His emotional response refuting the claim was awkward – not one he could properly cover, despite having perfected his poker face. Ergo, he decided the best tactic in terms of believability was to pretend Maya thought he had forged the evidence, was furious with him, and things were now frigid; anything between them was long over. It was close enough to the truth in his mind for his actions to be convincing. Kristoph genuinely seemed to have bought it – the card shark could even feign anger. In actuality, it was all directed solely at himself, this rage and self-loathing about ruining the legal practice and consequently, what they'd had together.

The spiky-haired man's gut instincts about his 'stalker' had proven to be correct when the Thursday night following his last visit to Kurain, Kristoph had accosted him after he'd played his final set of the evening, the expression behind his glasses simultaneously placid but probing.

It appeared that Phoenix's absence and whereabouts that past weekend hadn't escaped the blond man's attention.

"So," Kristoph remarked mildly, taking a small sip of that vile red wine he so favored. "Did you have a nice visit in Kurain, visiting your lover?"

"Maya? Oh God no, she's not my lover!" Somehow, the card shark managed a slight, derisive laugh, even as he felt his stomach drop into his shoes. He knew he'd never told Kristoph what his plans for the weekend were going to be! "She's the former office manager of my law office. We needed to finalize business matters over the closure of the legal practice."

Despite his stoic expression, the poker champ sensed the other man didn't believe him and all his previous efforts spinning a semi-legitimate story in his mind were now in vain. What was it about people being able to read him like a book when it came to Maya Fey? How was it they could somehow just ... tell? Long before Phoenix himself had been able to?!

A far more inbred instinct surged forth; to protect the love of his life from this danger – if indeed his gut reaction was correct and not leading him astray again – of entirely his own making, in which she should not be involved. What was he going to do?

The poker champ knew he wouldn't be able to conceal his highly emotional response – he never had been able to do so when it came to that girl long before he'd professed his love to her – and covering up their history had proven to be impossible. Instead, he opted for another route altogether – infuriated, mortally wounded ex-boyfriend.

He pictured Mildew's withered, wilting prune face. It was from this which he drew his ire as he spat out his next words.

"Maya, in the end, didn't have enough faith or trust in me to be in it for the long haul. She chose to believe the lies of those around her and convinced herself that I forged the evidence. She sees me as nothing but a low-life who has sullied the pristine name of her revered title and that of her hoity-toity village. She feels I'm beneath a woman of her station now and wants nothing more to do with me in the future."

Kristoph smirked but shook his head in a sham semaphore of commiseration.

"Ah, so you tried to maintain relations but ultimately were jilted in your efforts, were you?"

Phoenix stifled a gulp at how pleased as punch his faux tale of misery seemed to make the other man. Scheiße auf einen Cracker, Kristoph was one sinister sonofabitch! However, the Coolest Defense in the West mercifully seemed to be buying this particular angle and it was the best he could think of at the moment, considering the afflicted wounds from his Kurain visit were still fresh.

He contemplated playing the forlorn, discarded lover angle but then opted for resentment instead, as it would be easier to prove he was squelching all desire for reconciliation. It was easy enough to do – the anger was indeed real. It was directed at himself, for yet again having to deny, and now bad-mouth, his beloved Maya.

"Damn she-devil!" The Baron of Bluffing fumed. "When the chips were down, she was nowhere to be found! And after I gave her my whole heart! Well to hell with her then! She thinks she's too good for me, yet I have no idea what I ever saw in her – her… ridiculous, juvenile ass! And now that the law firm is over, thank Christ, I no longer have any excuses or reasons to need to see that disloyal, duplicitous kisser – ever again!"

Tears stung his eyes as the despicable words left his mouth – although he'd be damned if he ever let that blasted man seem them fall! Nonetheless, he'd unaffectedly upset himself enough over it to be convincing. Kristoph genuinely seemed to believe him, taking the agitation to mean this was all not an act, rather than deduce the reality; that it was all the sickening lies he was forced to utter that was making him so distraught.

It gave the hobo quite the sense of gratification, the notion that he'd finally succeeded in convincing his perceived frenemy that he and Maya would never again be an item, taking her off the blond's radar of consideration. However, Phoenix was glad he'd managed to keep Trucy in the dark about the whole thing; having an over-enthusiastic kid running around and unwittingly spouting contradictory information was surely something that would have gotten back to Kristoph and damaged the whole defensive façade.

He'd been successful in his endeavors. For these past nine months of being Kristoph's alleged pal, during all their coffee chats and visits, Maya's name was never brought up again. And to his utter relief, the past few months, the German's visits to see him at the bar had been steadily dwindling. The phony musician hadn't seen or heard from him in months, for which he was most relieved.

And so, Phoenix was lost in his own little world as he played the last ballad of the night to a captive and appreciative audience. It was only the second whole song he'd ever taught himself to play since … that one from many moons ago. Encouraged by the cheers of the crowd, the pianist found himself dutifully singing the lyrics as he played, as they perfectly matched how he'd been feeling all day.

It was "She's Like The Wind" by Patrick Swayze from Maya's beloved movie, Dirty Dancing.

The patrons were still applauding when the ivory-tickler took his final bow for the night. While he thought their alcohol-impaired minds hardly made them discerning music critics – he'd only practiced the song for a couple of hours before work just earlier that day – he knew that while he was no Swayze-like crooner, his singing voice wasn't half-bad. It was certainly better than his playing; singing was something which he only resorted to when he needed to create a distraction from a more off-key than usual playing night.

Tonight, it had been one of those nights.

As he stood up and headed towards the stairs to The Hydeout, he saw a flash of flaxen hair. With a start, he realized the periwinkle-suited man was standing in the corner of the bar, watching, and now moving toward him.

Kristoph wore his customary smirk as he approached Phoenix, who'd just been about to make his escape downstairs. The German was still applauding as he drew nearer, even though the look on his face didn't resemble that of an advocate who was still appreciating the performance he'd just heard. However, he certainly didn't look displeased. As usual, he was the epitome of imperturbability and composure.

"Bravo, Herr Wright, bravo!" Kristoph gave one final slow clap before fixing his icy blue eyes on the beanie-wearer. "In all the time I've had the privilege of hearing you tickle those ivories, my friend, I have never before known what a lark hath been hiding from me underneath that hat! What else have you been keeping from me, hmmm?"

"You're far too kind, Kristoph." He cracked a smile of attempted humility. "But thank you."

"Alas, I know not why the proverbial caged birds sings." The hint of a smile flickered across Kristoph's smarmy countenance. Phoenix thought the man had an awful smile – it was more like a leer. "Whatever inspired such a melodious, yet melancholic melody, Herr Wright? Has your heart not healed from Miss Fey's taking a heel to it earlier this year? Or are you a victim of fresh heartache anew, perchance?"

"None of the above!" The hobo lied easily, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck while smiling nervously. "You give me too much credit as a musician, Kristoph, if you think I can project and vent my genuine emotions through song! My Trucy loves the, ah, magic scenes in that movie. Especially the part where the man is sawing the woman inside the box. Unfortunately, that means she also makes me sit through the whole film because she likes the music in it as well. I suppose that's why I had one of the tunes stuck in my head."

"You possess the keen ability to play by ear, do you?"

"I guess so. I can't read music worth a lick ... but yeah, if I concentrate hard and listen to a song enough, I can usually play something that closely resembles it, heh, heh."

"Yes, although it's most curious how the saddest love song in the film was indeed the most memorable to you," Kristoph arched an eyebrow, although he nodded his head in understanding. "If anything, I'd have thought it'd have been the catchy ear-worm number they play at the end, where the couple does that famous dance lift scene."

The conversation was beginning to make Phoenix's composure unravel. Deep down, he would have bet his life that Kristoph was speaking of more than just the charming retro flick. There was an underlying menace to his words that could not be ignored.

It was the true reason why, even if the Elders in Kurain hadn't put their foot down about Maya associating with him, Phoenix would have opted to stay away from her, regardless. It was why he was doing so now, even though he knew his lover was confused and upset by his refusal to try to see her.

If only he could tell her the truth! But the truth was cloaked in shadow, making it difficult to determine. Was Kristoph his friend or enemy? Was he as evil as he seemed? Would the man hurt Maya or him or Trucy? And what about that brother of his? Would the rock god play along with or orchestrate a plot to cause them harm?

One moment Phoenix was certain that in the end, good would triumph over evil and justice would be served to all those that had hurt him and his loved ones. The next moment, he felt like he was losing his marbles and that his daughter deserved a saner guardian, one who could truly be a family with the woman he loved and give her the new mommy she'd been asking for more and more lately.

Sometimes the worst thought of all was his fear that he was wrong about Kristoph, that he was being overly paranoid and keeping himself and Maya apart for no real reason.

Realizing he still hadn't replied to the German's observation, he fought back the urge to squirm, as he was starting to grow steadily more uncomfortable under the man's unwavering gaze.

"Well, since you're not a fan of classic 80's love soundtracks, as my most frequent audience member, I should allow you to request for the next time I play!" Phoenix joked, flashing his most disarming grin. "What song shall I learn that might better please you, Kristoph?"

Instead of answering, the other man slowly began singing out the chorus to the famous song, the cold smile never leaving his phizog as he did so.

Phoenix felt his blood chill down to the bone, immediately recognizing the lyrics the the most famous stalker song ever written.

"Every Breath You Take," by The Police.

Mood music from this chapter - full video and lyrics on thejordanphoenix dot com:

Patrick Swayze - She's Like The Wind

The Police - Every Breath You Take

November 1, 2021: This story is now being uploaded to be more family-friendly as the previous version was removed for being too steamy and setting off the site smoke alarms, and for having song lyrics. No harm, no foul. Seriously, I'm not worried - who the heck only reads a story for song lyrics and like, TEN chapters of canoodling out of 195? That's grossly underestimating my amazing and loyal readers, wouldn't you agree?

In the meantime, as I go through the painstaking task of ensuring my new version complies with regulations per the admin's advising, the full uncut version of Turnabout Everlasting, and Filling The Void (the other far too sexy for this site previous casualty, which I've started reposting in a less risqué format) plus all 100+ chapters of Singing In The Courtroom can be found on THEJORDANPHOENIX dot com

All 195 chapters are now on my personal site and going forward, I will be posting there first when I write new chapters, so make sure to follow me for the latest updates and direct music video links! (I am still taking reader song requests, BTW)