"I just don't understand the need for it. Honestly, what's the point?"

"If the doctor says you need a cane, then you need a cane," she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I don't see what the big deal is."

"The big deal is I'm not an old man!" I retort. "My dad never used a cane and he lived to be eighty!"

"Your dad didn't have crazy amounts of arthritis in his legs." Her expression changed, and she peered at me curiously. "Is that what this is all about? Image?"

"No no no," I say quickly, waving my hand dismissively. "It's just that-"

"No, that's it!" She says, pointing her finger accusingly. "You just don't want to look like an old man!"

"That is not true." I reply haughtily. "The fact of the matter is, I am not an old man, so even if I did have a cane, I wouldn't look like one."

"Oh really? So if I did this, it wouldn't bother you?" She scoots to the edge of the bed, droops her eyelids, and shuffles around the bedroom mockingly. "'Oh, look at me, I'm Phoenix Wright, aged attorney. Where's my spectacles and arthritis medication?'"

I fling my pillow as hard as I can and it makes a satisfying whumpf as it hits her in the face. Her laughter is muffled by the cotton and down. "That was not funny."

"Oh come on, Nick," she says with a chuckle, climbing back into bed. "It's just a stick you use to help you walk. Personally, I think it'd make you look more dignified."

I tear my gaze away from the sheets and look at her. "Really?"

"Yeah, all regal and stuff." She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me. Her tone becomes a bit more somber as she looks into my eyes. "Besides, I don't like seeing you in pain when we go for walks together."

Well, that was it. I had to get a cane now.


Going cane shopping is like going porn shopping. No matter which one you pick, you always feel embarassed and a little ashamed, but there are always worse choices.

About half of the canes in the shop seemed to be for real, medical use, and the other half seemed to be decorative or cosmetic. It was rather strange, seeing extending canes and walkers alongside black staffs and concealed swords.

"How about this one?" Maya says cheerily, holding up a metal cane with a foam grip and four supports at the bottom. I do my best approximation of Edgeworth's scowl and she laughs a little. "Alright alright, jeez. Tou-chy."

I pick up a large obsidian staff with a head shaped like a dragon with a crystal ball in it's mouth and show it to Maya. She raises her eyebrows and gives me a strange look. "You're kidding, right?"

"Yeah, I am." I grin as I put it back and hear Maya mumbling something about how it's always hard to tell with me.

"Oooh, look at this one!" Maya says excitedly as she grabs a cane from a rack. It was a standard hooked head, only the entire thing was black and the bottom had flames rising from it. I consider it for a moment before shaking my head. "Too British."

After about an hour of browsing, we give up. I refuse to buy a plain old wooden cane despite Maya's protests. "If I'm going to be stuck with one of these things," I say determinedly, "it's going to be something unique."


Days pass, and I spend much of my free time at my computer, searching the Internet for the perfect cane. I still wasn't fond of getting one, but it was a personal quest at this point, a challenge from the universe. 'You will never find a good looking cane,' it said. I was not one to let a challenge go unanswered.

But the more I looked, the more I became convinced that such a thing did not exist. There were two types of cane - boring, and ugly. There was no inbetween, at least not that I could see.

I was sitting at home, watching television after failing in my quest once again, when the doorbell rang. Must be Maya. She had gone out after work on some kind of "mission," and she had been gone most of the day. I stood and stretched, ignoring the usual dull ache in my joints, and answered the door.

It wasn't who I expected. "Miles?" I furrow my brow. He never showed up unannounced, unless it was important. "What's up?"

The maroon suited High Prosecutor simply smiled and stuck his hands in his pockets. Suddenly, Maya jumped out from behind him. "Surprise!" She yelled, holding out a long white box.

Utterly bewildered, I took the box from her. "Maya, wh-"

"I'll tell you in a minute, just open it!" She was positively ecstatic. Naturally, I took my sweet time opening the box, simply to drive her crazy. She was bouncing up and down next to me as I removed the contents.

It was a wooden cane, very solid, with a protective coating which made it rather smooth to the touch. The bottom was dark wood, but it lightened considerably to an almost reddish color as it neared the top. It's head was shaped like the head of a bird, but it was a strange one - the feathers drew up in the back of it's head like a crest, giving the cane a flat top to grip. The sides of the bird's head had a flowing, circling design about the feathers, and the beak was hooked like an eagle's.

It took me a moment, but I guessed what it was. "Is this a-"

"A phoenix." Edgeworth said, adjusting his spectacles. "I have a few acquaintances in the antique business. Turns out one of them has had this for years. He says it was made around 1851 for the London Exhibition, but I'm not sure I believe him. It's in improbably good condition for something that old."

"Just like you, Nick!" Maya said with a laugh. "I knew it was perfect the moment I saw it!"

I held it and tested my weight on it. Didn't budge. It was surprisingly comfortable to hold as well. I turned around and used it to walk back into the foyer, then turned around again and saw them looking at me expectantly. "So?" Maya asked, hands clasped together. "What do you think?"

I stamp it on the ground between my feet and place both my hands on it in what I think is a lordly pose, grinning widely. "I think it's perfect."