#but this phoenix just seems to flounder in ways you wouldn't expect him to. because of how developed he is past that point

[citnamora]

My roommate and I are playing Dual Destinies now and we both whooped and cheered when Phoenix slipped on his suit jacket. Is this a universal experience?

[collabwithmyself]

1-3: Turnabout Transfix (2/2)

The article in the paper under the list of missing persons had the wrong name before "Wright, age nine," and a lump formed in Miles's throat.

"That's not his name," he tried to say. It came out as a croak. "We told them his name was Phoenix. I know we did."

Ray, sitting beside him at the dining room table, looked disgusted but defeated. "They added it as a footnote," he pointed out. ""Responds to Phoenix"... Nick's not a dog."

Miles wanted to hunt down every copy of the paper and throw them all into the trash can. His best friend was missing, and people were calling him the wrong name because he wasn't there to stop them. It wasn't fair.

Miles looked to Ray as though he had an answer to right this horrible injustice. Ray looked as tired and frustrated as he felt, chewing on a thumbnail as he thought deeply.

"We can head down and talk to them," he offered, after a long pause.

That was what Father would have done. He would have marched right down to the office where they printed the paper and demanded a retraction. But nobody was going to take a freshman law student and his newly adopted nine year old seriously.

"It's worth a try," Miles responded, because a defense attorney should never give up hope.

⁂

Staying up late to scrutinize the series he already knew by heart for clues of some sort was a mistake, and Miles knew it. His eyes began to droop only partway through the season as Maya snored against his side, and he was vaguely aware he was becoming less and less alert every time he had to pull his head back up from his chest.

It didn't occur to him that he shouldn't be letting himself doze off in the presence of company.

His sleep was never restful. Every night, his subconscious was forcibly yanked back to the day everything changed.

Some nights, he found himself reliving what he was certain was a memory. The dialogue never changed, the action never shifted. A heated argument in the elevator, a foolish bid to stop it, a single gunshot, and that horrid, high-pitched wail of agony that he knew belonged to one of the people he'd lost that day.

Other times, he dreamed not of his father, but of Phoenix.

Those dreams changed, but they remained the same nonetheless. Whether running through the streets with Larry, or through the backyard of his home, or through the hallways of the courthouse, the same thing always happened - Phoenix disappeared. Maybe he ran too far ahead, or lagged too far behind, but Miles's friend was suddenly nowhere to be found, and he felt painfully, crushingly alone.

His subconscious had decided to grace him with the former that night, and when he woke up with "father" on his lips and sweat on his forehead, a rumpled-looking Maya was staring at him in undisguised concern.

"...are you o--"

Miles turned away from her and said nothing, effectively stopping the conversation before it began.

Maya was silent, and when Miles glanced back over, her gaze was fixed on the television, which was still playing through the old episodes of Steel Samurai. She lacked the enthusiasm they both shared for the show, however. She seemed deep in thought.

"...you don't wanna talk about it?" she asked quietly.

He and Uncle Ray never talked after nightmares. One would get up to find the other in the kitchen nursing a cup of tea, and silently join them, knowing the other was thinking of the same thing but not having the courage to voice it aloud. Saying it gave it form, and Miles refused to shed any more tears over something he knew full well was his fault.

"No," Miles responded, sharp and blunt all at once.

"You wanna talk about something else, then?" Maya glanced sideways at him. "I used to talk with Sis after I had nightmares. It helped get my mind off things."

Miles hesitated. "Something else sounds nice," he said quietly.

"How about court today? Prosecutor von Karma was hopping mad, huh?" Maya let a grin stretch across her face as she leaned towards Miles. "She looked like she wanted to tear her hair out. Or maybe yours."

"That woman needs to see a therapist," he muttered.

"I think we all do, My."

"...you've got me there."

⁂

As the trial wore on throughout its second day, Sascha von Karma continued to act stranger and stranger. Before the judge could reprimand her for being far too harsh with the witness, Cody Hackins faltered and lost the confidence Miles had been working hard to build up about his witness account, a terrified look in his eyes. To his surprise, von Karma went ashen and actually stumbled back a little, like she hadn't meant to push a little boy nearly to tears.

Honestly, with her disposition, Miles wouldn't have thought she would care. But here she was, clutching her side, eyes blown wide with something like fear. Something in Miles's stomach turned over. Was he actually feeling sympathetic for this ferocious woman?

But it wasn't just him. Mia beside him (that had been a jolt to his nervous system -- he hadn't been able to see her clearly the last time Maya had summoned her) had her brow furrowed in concern as she stared at the prosecution. "I haven't seen her make a face like that since..."

Miles glanced at her. "Since... what?"

"...don't worry about it. Focus on the trial here and now, Miles." Mia gave him that mysterious smile that meant she was withholding important information from him. He knew it well. He huffed at her, and she huffed back.

Despite Mia's testimony, von Karma had that same look on her face as Vasquez took the stand the next day, wide eyes flicking between the witness and the defense bench. She was strangely silent, not offering a single protest as Miles proceeded with the cross-examination.

But he couldn't afford to wonder about it. Vasquez was clever and tight-lipped, and his attempts to wring her testimony dry and find something to pin her down were fruitless. She and the judge had both gotten irritated at this point, and when Miles hesitated, scrambling to find some point he hadn't pressed, the latter decided he'd had enough.

Miles cursed inwardly as the judge raised his gavel. Vasquez adjusted the pin of her shawl, self-assured in her victory. This was the end. He was prepared to accept defeat.

He couldn't have possibly prepared for what happened next, however.

"OBJECTION!"

Miles jerked his head up. Beside him, Maya gasped in surprise.

Across the room from him, left arm outstretched in a frantic point, was a frazzled, trembling Sascha von Karma.

She stared blankly at her own hand, as though it had moved of its own volition. Then she jumped - actually jumped - when the judge demanded to know the meaning for the interruption.

"Right! Uh. Um. The reason I objected," she babbled, "is because... uhh..."

It was the least composed Miles had ever seen her. He was bewildered. What did she think she was doing?

"...I don't have a reason," she admitted, shoulders slumping.

"Er..." The judge blinked owlishly at her. "Very well. Now--"

"OBJECTION!"

The poor judge looked as baffled as Miles felt. "Miss von Karma?"

"I... I request that the witness testify again!" she blurted out, digging her fingers into the desk. She looked disheveled, stray hairs having slipped out of her ponytail to poke out at a very odd angle. "I, um... I want to hear about... the, uh..."

Vasquez snarled with impatience. "Why are you badgering me? I'm your witness!"

"I'm inclined to agree!" the judge added. "I see little point in making Ms. Vasquez repeat herself..."

Miles looked at Maya. Maya looked at Miles. What?? Maya mouthed at him. Miles shrugged helplessly.

von Karma floundered. "Uh... yeah... great point... ummmmMMM! I want to-- I wish to hear about the body discovery! What happened after you found it?"

That hadn't occurred to Miles. But what could that possibly reveal? And why was von Karma risking sabotaging her own case by asking after it? She practically had the win in the bag, and after Miles had humiliated her so thoroughly after their last clash in court, she had no reason to let this continue.

What was going on?

⁂

The relief of a not guilty verdict and the butterflies of being in such close proximity to Mr. Powers yet again were a powerful combination that filled Miles's mind with fuzz and forced out any less important thoughts, like von Karma's odd behavior or Maya tugging on his coat.

"M-My! Hey! Miles! Kilometers! Little My!"

"H-Hrm?"

Maya pointed to somewhere behind him. "I, um... I think you're in trouble."

Miles turned, and flinched when he found himself nose to nose with a furious prosecutor.

"You," von Karma snarled, "should not be expecting a repeat performance of today! You're lucky I took pity on you! You got that?!"

Her voice raised to a yell as she spoke, and her burning eyes pinned Miles where he stood. He leaned away, but she just leaned forward.

"Don't you dare be expecting a shred of mercy from me from now on! You may be the son of that loathsome excuse of a defense attorney, and the favorite of that voluptuous wretch--"

Now, Miles was not going to sit there and take that. "You should never speak ill of the dead, Miss von Karma," he snapped, straightening his spine and making her flinch away. He met her glare with all the intensity he could muster...

...and then paused.

How curious.

"Wh... What? What is it?" von Karma's hastily plucked brows furrowed as an edge of nervousness worked its way into her voice, and Miles realized he'd spoken aloud.

"Your eyes," he continued hesitantly. They were heterochromatic - one brown, one blue. "They reminded me of someone. An old friend."

von Karma inexplicably blanched. She looked distant for a moment, and her left hand dug into her right side, just below her ribcage. "You... wh..."

Then she shook herself, and that boiling anger was back full force. "Why are you getting all nostalgic on me, you-- ugh! You listen closely, Ed... E-Edge..."

Again, she went pale, looking ill. Miles was starting to worry after her health at this point, despite the fact he was in the middle of being screamed at. "Er..."

"You... you listen closely, Worthless!" She thrusted a finger up towards him, nearly jamming it up his nose with how close she was. "These eyes... you'll see them and know nothing but despair once we meet again, you hear me?! I'm going to crush you, and I'm going to enjoy it!"

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and stomped off, seething.

Maya coughed weakly. "Uh. Wow. What was that all about?"

Miles stared after Sascha von Karma, his gut clenching with inexplicable grief. "I have no earthly idea."

⁂

You failed again.

You can't even blame him this time.

This is all your fault.

Victory was within your grasp.

All that matters to a von Karma is perfection.

And yet you gave him an opening.

A von Karma should be swift and merciless.

You're weak. He's gotten into your head. You can't stop thinking about him.

Even his name makes you sick.

Miles Edgeworth...

...

...why does it feel like you're forgetting something?