Chapter 37

In Retentis

Phoenix stared at the clock and frowned. Everyone else had gone home half an hour ago. Outside the classroom window thunder rumbled at a distance. He looked back at the whiteboard.

"I will not put gum in other people's hair," was written across the top in the teacher's tidy hand. Looking back toward the page of notebook paper in his desk made him frown.

He'd written the sentence twice in full. Then he had "I" written down one side of the page forty-eight times. The first fifteen "I"s had "will not" written along side. Phoenix sighed—mom was going to be pissed at him.

It wasn't even his fault. He didn't even chew gum. Phoenix would never do that to Jilly Baxter. He squeezed his Spiderman pencil in his fist. Larry was always getting him in trouble. This time sucked even worse because Larry didn't get in trouble at all. And Jilly Baxter would hate Phoenix forever.

Phoenix sighed and the thunder rumbled outside again. He put his pencil to the paper and copied his lines.

When the teacher came to check on him, he'd completed the statement sixteen times. The rain began to fall outside. Not a gradual sprinkle but a sudden and heavy downpour. Phoenix frowned at the window while the teacher lectured him about respecting other students' personal space and the sheer cruelty of getting gum in a girl's hair.

He dragged his feet through the empty hallway toward the door. He was clutching at the straps of his backpack where they came around his shoulders. The rain showed no signs of letting up. He paused at the glass doors at the front entrance and peered outside with a frown.

He could barely see through the rain. Even the glass was starting to fog up. Mom would be home soon—maybe she was home already. Would she come here, if she couldn't find him? She might. He could just stay by the door and wait for Mom or for the rain to stop. Either way he wasn't going out in that.

A sudden movement and a flash of color caught his eye. Phoenix pressed his face to the glass. There was a kid in the rain. What if he drowned? Mom always said things about 'catching your death' and stuff when the weather was bad. What the heck was wrong with that kid?

Phoenix pushed open the door and waved, "HEY! HEY KID!"

The kid—who was standing at the curb where parents and busses usually claimed or dropped off other kids—turned and looked toward him. Phoenix still couldn't see who it was. "HEY!"

The kid ran toward him and even before the kid was close enough to enter the shelter of the entrance, Phoenix recognized that Miles kid.

"Nick! What are you doing at school so late?" Miles said. He looked like he'd just been pulled from a lake or a pool. He was shivering and gasping and he sniffed uncontrollably.

"I had detention," Phoenix said, "How come you were standing out there in the rain?"

Miles was still gasping and sniffing, "I was waiting for my dad to pick me up."

Phoenix stared at him and frowned when he realized that Miles had been—was still crying. Phoenix didn't know what to say.

"He never comes late," Miles sobbed, "Something bad… must… have…"

"Um," Phoenix said looking at that Miles kid with a frown, "He's fine. Don't cry."

"He never comes late," Miles repeated, and his sobbing grew more intense.

Phoenix could only stare at the other boy and frown. Miles had been at the school for a while—but he was still the new kid. He was weird and nerdy. But Miles defended him against the other kids when they did the class trial. They weren't really friends, but Phoenix talked to him sometimes. He'd invited Miles to join their biker gang, but Miles never came round. Phoenix reached out and grabbed one of Miles' arms and shook him.

"Hey," Phoenix said, "don't cry, okay?"

"B-but," Miles blubbered, his shivering seemed to grow more intense.

"Do you want to come to my house?"

Miles only stared at him—Miles' eyes were as gray as the storm outside, though the whites were slightly pink from his crying.

"I don't live very far," Phoenix said, "We could go to my house and my mom can drive you to your house."

"I'm not allowed," Miles said apprehensively.

"Well, it's better than standing out there in the rain. My Mom says you can get sick if you stay out in the rain."

Miles gaze moved toward the still deserted curb and then returned to Phoenix.

"Come on. If we run we won't get as wet," Phoenix grabbed Miles' by the wrist and the two of them plunged back into the deluge. They ran across the street to the street light and then turned down Phoenix's street. Phoenix lost his hold on Miles' wrist and Miles shouted something at him. His voice was lost in their running steps, the pounding of the rain.

"Come on!" Phoenix said, "We're almost there!"

They ran into Mom on the sidewalk. She was wearing one of those things that look like a plastic bag and carrying a large umbrella with Minnie Mouse on it.

"Nick!" She screamed and grabbed him into a hug with her free arm, "Nick I was worried sick! Where were you?"

"Mom!" Phoenix said panting and gasping from his run, "This is my friend Miles and he was waiting for his dad but his dad never came and he was all by himself in the rain so I told him that he could come home with me and you could help him!"

Miles stood back from them hugging himself and shaking in the rain.

"Come here," Mom said and tugged his wet jacket so that he was standing under the umbrella. It wasn't very much further to the house but they had to walk slow and awkwardly because of the shared umbrella. Phoenix could still hear Miles sniffing beside him as they walked and he put an arm over the other boy's shoulder, "It's okay."

Phoenix just glared at him—he wasn't paying attention at all. Edgeworth was leaning back in his seat one hand resting on his thigh and the other arm crooked against the windowsill so that his hand rested near his temple. He was staring out of the window thoughtfully and obviously ignoring everything Phoenix had just said.

Phoenix crossed his arms—he was starting to wonder why he'd suggested this. He was just so used to Edgeworth declining his invitations—he didn't know what to do.

Edgeworth had arrived looking a bit harried after spending most of the day doing whatever prosecutors do when they weren't in court. He was still wearing that neck thing with a black vest and white shirt. Conversation had been awkward and curt—and now one-sided.

Phoenix frowned at him. There were two older women sitting at a table just over Edgeworth's shoulder. They'd just moved tables for what seemed like a way to get a better look at Edgeworth. That was weird. Phoenix wondered if he was sitting like that on purpose—just so he could squint a little out of the window and brood—like he was posing for a photo.

The natural light from outside highlighted his hair—even though the sun wasn't shining brightly. Edgeworth's eyes had a slightly green tinge from whatever was outside the window.

"I guess you just go to random places and sit around to try and look cool," Phoenix said. Edgeworth turned his head to glance at him for a moment before turning back to the window.

"I have banana feet…" Phoenix said.

"What?" Edgeworth said pulling away from the window and looking at him directly.

"Just checking to see if you're listening," Phoenix said, "I've been talking to myself for the last ten minutes."

"There is a man outside," Edgeworth said poking at the ice in his iced tea with a straw, "He's in whiteface and he keeps moving strangely and walking in front of people."

"He's a clown," Phoenix said, "or mime, I guess. Maya calls him Mellow Mike."

"Interesting…" Edgeworth said turning his head back toward the window.

"He just hangs around there trying to make people laugh—the tourists love him."

"Hmm," Edgeworth said suddenly losing interest.

"So…" Phoenix said.

Edgeworth absently brushed his hair back from his face and took a drink from his glass. Phoenix continued to stare at him rubbing lines into the condensation of his own glass.

"I heard Sheinheilig is finally going to trial—again," Phoenix said.

"Yes."

Phoenix made an exasperated hand gesture toward Edgeworth, but the other didn't seem to notice. Edgeworth pulled his straw out of his drink and started to twist and bend it. Phoenix crossed his arms and sighed loudly.

"Nice weather today," Phoenix said.

Edgeworth's eyes met his directly, the irises as stormy and gray as the sky outside, "It's supposed to rain tonight."

"Yeah," Phoenix said, "But not until late tonight."

Edgeworth gave a small shrug and stared at the broken straw in his hands. He continued to twist it around his fingers.

The maddening conversation was interrupted by the waitress' arrival. Phoenix sighed and ran a hand through his spikes—he was relieved, but frustrated at the same time. He glared at Edgeworth while he was asking the waitress a question about the soup. She smiled at him and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She was smiling and blushing a little at him—and he was only talking about bread bowls.

"Uh Miss?" Phoenix said when she started to walk away.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said but her apologetic glance flew toward Edgeworth.

Phoenix ordered his sandwich quickly, and when she left, he glared at Edgeworth.

"Hey," Phoenix said.

"Yes?"

"What do you want to talk about?"

Edgeworth hesitated and then said, "Nothing."

"Really?"

Edgeworth nodded.

Phoenix frowned.

"Why won't you let me be your friend…" Phoenix said with no small amount of irritability in his voice.

Edgeworth looked at him directly. He seemed confused, a little defensive and maybe a little hurt too. Phoenix almost let out a sigh of relief.

"I thought we were friends," Edgeworth said.

Phoenix frowned. He wanted to tell Edgeworth that he was too weird and that he should relax. He wanted to tell him that it was okay to talk. But he was afraid he'd scare him off again.

Edgeworth was staring out of the window again. Phoenix couldn't look at him anymore—it was making him crazy. He stared at his glass instead watching the bubbles in his soda disconnect from the sides of the glass and rise to the top and disappear. Edgeworth made a sharp intake of breath and stiffened suddenly in his seat—Phoenix startled.

"What—" Phoenix said.

"Could you please come sit beside me?" Edgeworth said.

Phoenix made a face at him, "Why?"

"So you can hide me…" Edgeworth said.

"From what?"

"Just help me!"

Phoenix got up from his seat and slid into the booth next to Edgeworth. Neither of them were very large men, but it was a cozy fit.

"This is weird," Phoenix grinned, "But I kind of like it."

Edgeworth gave him a shove that almost knocked him out of the booth.

"Hey! You asked me to—"

"I didn't ask you to be creepy!"

"Who are you trying to hide from?"

"My ex," Edgeworth said, "I never imagined she'd come to a place like this."

"A restaurant? What's up with her?"

Edgeworth just scrunched up his shoulders and put his head down—trying to make himself small.

"You know," Phoenix said, "You're taller than me. Plus your hair is that weird gray color—there's no way—"

"My hair is not gray!" Edgeworth hissed, "She's not coming over here…?"

"Um," Phoenix said—he had no idea Edgeworth had been seeing anyone. He looked around the restaurant. There was a woman in oversized sunglasses wearing a cocktail dress, but she had a guy with her. There was a redheaded chick coming from the direction of the restroom—but she stopped at another table and sat. A cute, raven-haired girl was coming toward them from the direction of the main entrance…

"I have no idea what she looks like," Phoenix said.

Edgeworth glanced over just in time to see Glasses and her beau walking in their direction.

"The one with the stupid sunglasses…" Edgeworth scrunched further down into his seat.

"Her? You were dating a woman like that?" Phoenix said, "I think they're coming toward us."

"Do something!"

"Like what?"

"Distract them!"

Phoenix glanced once more toward the woman—she'd been stopped by someone at another table—and frowned. She was definitely headed this way. Phoenix shoved Edgeworth up against the window and planted a hand on each of his cheeks and gave him a big sloppy kiss.

Edgeworth tensed up. Madeline Tailor turned in the other direction. Phoenix closed his eyes.

Mister Von Karma moved along the shelves searching through bagged evidence and labeled envelopes while Miles followed behind him with a box.

"That's why you need to make a note of what you used and be very careful about double checking these labels—these idiots really have a hard time labeling things."

Miles nodded even though Mister Von Karma wasn't looking at him. It was hot down there and though he'd already removed his jacket, the blue and gold brocade waistcoat seemed very confining and heavy at the moment. Miles was starting to sweat a little.

"I really hate that about this district," Mister Von Karma continued, "They're constantly reviewing old cases over and over—what a waste of time! Take this 'evidence transferral, this 'cleaning day'. If we'd moved completed cases into the archive as soon as we they were done—we wouldn't be wasting so much time each year scrambling to get this done in a month."

They continued silently for several minutes, Mister Von Karma reading from a long list of cases that were being pulled for cleaning day. Miles followed behind him in stoic silence, trying to ignore his own rising discomfort. His nose was starting to itch from the dust and he was thirsty now as well as hot.

"I've been meaning to ask you," Mister Von Karma said suddenly. Miles felt his gut start to knot with apprehension.

"Who is Phoenix Wright?" Mister Von Karma whipped around to face him suddenly.

Miles just stared, he hadn't heard that name in ten years.

Mister Von Karma turned his attention back to the shelves, "I asked you a question Edgeworth."

"Yes sir," Miles said, "I don't really remember who he was, but I do recognize the name."

"And? Where do you know that name from?"

"From when I was a boy. Before I left for Germany."

"I see," Mister Von Karma said.

"Nick!"

Phoenix put the phone down and tried to look nonchalant, standing in the hallway in his shorts and a tee shirt.

"Hey, Nick!" Phoenix looked up to see Larry and some guy Larry had started hanging out with more frequently than he did with Phoenix. They were both grinning as they came down the hall.

"Hey, what are you doing right now?" Larry said.

"Nothing," Phoenix said.

"You should get dressed and come with us to the Ballyrama," Larry grinned.

"What's the Ballyrama?" Phoenix said.

"It's awesome," Larry said.

"It's an expo downtown," other guy cut in, "They open up for three days a year. It's like a way for new and up and coming artists and creative people get together to share their ideas and celebrate creativity—and also get really drunk and see boobs."

"A street party?" Phoenix said, "Downtown…? You mean downtown downtown?"

"Yeah man," Larry said, "It's freaking awesome!"

Phoenix glanced at the hall phone and then looked at the two of them, "Do either of you have a car?"

"No," Larry said, "We'll take the bus. Come on Nick."

"I um…" Phoenix said.

"There's music and dancing too," other guy said and he pulled out a creased postcard with an ad for Ballyrama. Phoenix took the card from other guy and squinted at it.

"Well if you don't want to go," Larry said, "Can I borrow a hundred bucks?"

Phoenix looked at Larry, "What makes you think I have that kind of money?"

"Come on Nick I know you—"

"That's all I have to get me through the end of the month," Phoenix said, "I can't just—"

"Fine," Larry said and grabbed the postcard back. "You can waste your life in your dorm room."

Phoenix watched Larry and his friend walk three doors down to cajole Eric—or whatever his neighbor's name was—into going along with them. Phoenix frowned and picked up the phone again. He'd memorized the number by now, and he dialed it carefully.

"Who is it?"

"Um, good afternoon," Phoenix said, "My name is Phoenix Wright. I'm trying to get a hold of Miles Edgeworth."

"Edgeworth doesn't want to talk to you," Mister Von Karma said into the phone. Miles looked up at the mention of his name, Mister Von Karma glared at him.

Miles went to the shelves to return a file he'd borrowed, and tried not to eavesdrop.

"He is a professional, now. He doesn't have time to deal with people like you."

Miles' jaw tightened involuntarily.

"I don't have to know you—I know your type," Mister Von Karma said, "Now, this has been amusing Wright, but if you call here again I will press charges."

Miles turned to leave Mister Von Karma's office.

"Good day!" Mister Von Karma said into the phone before slamming the receiver back onto its holder.

"Edgeworth!" Miles stopped just in front of the door and hesitated before turning around slowly to face Mister Von Karma.

"Sir?"

"What are you working on right now?"

"I was helping Prosecutor Marshall put together the case against Altair Iggo," Miles said, "I remembered a similar case you'd prosecuted, so I thought I'd look it over as a reference."

"Hmm," Mister Von Karma said, "Are you helping him? Or does he have you doing his work for him?"

Miles didn't answer but his gaze fell to the floor.

"Did you offer him your help?"

"Well," Miles hesitated, "you see, Mister Von Karma, everyone is tied up with evidence transferral and Prosecutor Marshall was the only one who had a case going to trial this week. He said he'd let me assist. I didn't want to waste an opportunity to be in court."

Mister Von Karma glared at him, "And you didn't think to ask me if this was alright?"

Miles blinked, "Sir, I wasn't… I learned of this opportunity in passing. I thought I was being proactive."

"Don't be flippant with me, Miles Edgeworth!"

Miles swallowed, he didn't think he'd said anything flippant.

"Mister Von Karma," Miles said, "May I assist Mister Marshall in court tomorrow? "Just go away Edgeworth, I'm tired of looking at you."

Miles didn't have to be told twice.

Phoenix stared at the receiver in his hand until the phone started beeping. He hung it up and dragged himself back to his room. Press charges?

It frightened him. Never once had Phoenix considered that his persistence might be taken as harassment. He couldn't afford it if they pressed charges. He probably shouldn't call anymore…

Phoenix frowned and sat at his desk and opened his computer—he had a paper to write anyway—why was he wasting time trying to contact someone who obviously didn't care. But then again, Phoenix mused, I got the secretary most of the time and Mister Creeptastic the other times… Maybe Edgeworth did want to hear from him. Maybe he just didn't know about the calls.

But… That guy in the papers. That Demon Prosecutor, that wasn't anyone he knew either. Phoenix shook his head mournfully and opened up the document he'd begun earlier.

"Mister Von Karma," Miles said. His voice echoed in the massive dining hall. He was sitting at the massive table two seats down to the right of Mister Von Karma who was seated at the head of the table.

"What?" the old man snapped at him—angry at the interruption of his dinner.

Miles stared down at his own plate—he hadn't even touched his silverware.

"Sir, I just wanted to know why I'm not allowed to accept a telephone call from… from my friend…?"

"Miles Edgeworth, how do you know that person is your friend?"

"I knew him… When I was a boy."

"What if he is an imposter?"

"Sir, I just want to speak with him once."

"Why?"

"I just want to… I don't know anyone here, aside from the people we've worked with. I just want to have—"

"Miles Edgeworth, are you so bored with your duties and responsibilities that you wish to seek out social engagement?"

"No sir, I only—"

"Or maybe you've got too much idle time. Perhaps I should find more for you to do?"

Miles only responded with a slight nod. Mister Von Karma glared at him a moment longer and then returned to his dinner. Miles stared at the table and stared at his plate in contemplation. He was upset but he didn't dare show it. He sat straight and perfectly still, but underneath the table he twisted his napkin in his hands.

Mister Von Karma dabbed his mouth with his napkin and paused to glare at Miles again.

"If you're just going to sit here like a fool just go away," Mister Von Karma said.

Miles stood up from the table and offered his mentor a slight bow before retreating to his room. He locked his door and went immediately to his desk. In a locked drawer he pulled out a book on celestial navigation that he'd been given as a gift. He opened it to reveal an envelope tucked into the pages.

Inside were forty-three pink slips of paper with the memo 'while you were out' printed at the top. Some of them were creased or slightly torn—as he'd dug them out of the trash. Miles kept them in chronological order.

He picked up the first one; it read: For Miles Edgeworth, Mr. Phoenix Wright wishes you to return his call.

Second: To Edgeworth. From Wright. Your friend from school at Ivy. Please call.

Third: Edgeworth call Mr. Wright.

Sixth: Mr. Wright hopes you are well. Please call.

Seventh: Mr. Wright wishes you happy birthday. He says call when ready.

Ninth: Wright – hope you are well.

They were all like that, a simple greeting. A request for contact. Miles lined them all up and studied them. There was life outside of the bleak world he lived in.

Edgeworth found a bench in a shaded area around the corner and sat. He had pulled his jacket so that it was closed more tightly around him—like it might keep him safer.

"Why'd you have to hit me?" Phoenix said angrily. He was only trying to help—that little bit of PDA turned that woman right around. It was kind of funny too. Why was Edgeworth so upset about it?

"Edgeworth, I only did it to get that woman to go away—and it worked," Phoenix continued when Edgeworth kept silent.

"That was very embarrassing," Edgeworth said, "It would've been embarrassing if you'd been a woman. You made me look like an idiot in public."

"I think you're upset because you kind of liked it," Phoenix said and Edgeworth answered him with a murderous glare. Phoenix smiled at him—at least they were facing each other again.

"You're disgusting," Edgeworth said.

"Oh," Phoenix said, "I'm disgusting?"

"And uncouth."

"Uncouth, huh?"

"And rude, immodest, insensitive, stupid and naive and—and… And I don't like the way you act around me."

"What do you mean the way I—"

"You haven't stopped staring at me since we sat at that table, it's unsettling."

"What?" Phoenix said, "I wasn't stare—I was trying to have a civilized conversation with my friend. If you wanted to sit back to back and stare in opposite directions you should've said so."

"Wright it seems that we've both change—"

"You changed," Phoenix said.

"Very well," Edgeworth said, "We just aren't companionable friends anymore. Perhaps we should accept that and move on. I can do that. Why can't you?"

Phoenix just shook his head glaring at Edgeworth, "What happened to you? I mean—what really happened to make you into such a crazy fuck?"

"There's no need to get vulgar, Wright," Edgeworth said, he was still glaring stonily at him. Then Edgeworth pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to Phoenix. Phoenix hesitated and then took it to dab his throbbing lip.

"I guess maybe I am rude—because I'm honest. I am immodest—because I'm not afraid of who I am. I'm naïve because I want to believe in the best of people. I'm stupid because I thought maybe I could save you. Because I cared about you. I never had a friend like you after you left. I talked to people. I hung out and went to parties—but I didn't have a friend like what I remembered of you. Maybe that kid I remembered never existed… Maybe you're just some asshole with the same name…"

Edgeworth turned to face him directly. His expression was open—showing true hurt. Phoenix might've hugged him if the guy hadn't just punched him out. Edgeworth didn't say anything and slowly his eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed, and he looked away.

"You just don't care about anybody, do you?"

Edgeworth didn't answer but kept his back to Phoenix, hands on the bench, head down. Phoenix found himself fixated with the hollow between his shoulder blades. He dabbed his lip with Edgeworth's handkerchief and stuck his tongue behind his bottom lip to better assess the damage. His bottom lip was swollen and split. His teeth had cut in from the inside and there was blood in his saliva.

"Are you going to say anything to me Edgeworth?"

Edgeworth didn't move.

"This was right up there with the worst day ever…" Phoenix said quietly, "Do you want this back?"

Edgeworth didn't even turn his head.

"Keep it."

A/N: Thanks for Reading! Why can't they see? These two were meant to be?

:( a not so sunny Phoenix chapter…

This is weird—mostly in Phoenix POV. The second flashback is in both Ps OV (Phoenix and Miles) I don't like doing that, but I couldn't find a way to get it to work otherwise.

First flashback from when our two favorite lawyers are both nine. This happens after the class trial, but before Miles and Phoenix are really friends.

Second flashback they're both 19.

In retentis is another legal term regarding documents that are kept separately from the rest of a case—for special reasons. Here it is meant also in the sense of 'things held back' or 'things [not said]'

UPDATED 12JUL2015 – Minor edits.