Chapter Text
Miles was entirely unsure of what he was looking at. Wright’s office was cluttered with either toys or discarded clothes. The desk sat with a layer of dust covering it, likely a month or two old. Most notably, in the midst of all the chaos, stood a girl in a pink cloak and an oversized top hat. She didn't reach past his knee, and she kept on calling him ‘Papa’.
“Daddy is going to be home soon, so sit and relax, Papa!” She openly gestured to the couch. It was taking everything in Miles not to harshly judge Phoenix Wright for everything he had witnessed upon using his spare key on the office door. Either his partner had kidnapped a child, or his partner had kidnapped a child and left it home alone.
“I see…” He felt confused, but he had more to worry about than the girl's odd words. There was a hop in her step as she guided him inside. Once they reached the couch, Miles ignored her insistent offer and knelt to her eye level.
“Young lady, I don't happen to be your father, but I very much wish to know where this supposed ‘Daddy’ of yours is.” Whoever that was needed a stern talking to, along with Wright.
“At the restaurant! Borch...brosch bowl club…?” She tapped her chin, seeming unsure. Miles squinted at the name. He couldn't claim to know where or what that was.
“And were you instructed to wait here?”
“ins…tructed?”
“It’s when you're told to do something.” He explained patiently. “Were you told to wait here?” After he finished, her eyes brightened for an unknown reason.
“Oh, instructed! Okay! Yeah, right here!”
Miles took it to mean that he had been right. He at least felt grateful that the office door was locked, and not left wide open like it was often known to be.
“Do you happen to know where the owner of this office is?” He asked and saw the girl nodding.
“At borsch bowl!”
Miles felt a migraine coming. “And how long have you been waiting here?”
The girl tilted her head, thinking. “Hours…?”
Miles rubbed the bridge of his nose with a sigh. It felt sound to conclude that this supposed ‘restaurant’ was a place not suited for children. His theory that Wright was meeting a client there, who was the girl’s father, also seemed the most plausible.
“What is your name?” He finally asked. Exchanging names was the first step in gaining a person's trust after all.
“Trucy!” The girl beamed, and just as he opened his mouth to return the introduction, she continued. “And you're Miles, right?? You look scarier in person!”
Miles frowned while listening to the sound of his working theory crumpling. “You know me…?”
The little girl—Trucy, was it—shook her head. “I saw you in a picture. I could never forget that frowning face!” She wagged her pointer finger at him. “It’s my job to turn faces like that into big smiles, after all!” Her sentence ended with a grin of pride.
With the magician's outfit, Miles supposed that she was preparing for some performance at her school. He brushed past the detail due to its lack of relevance. The more important point of note was where the girl had seen a picture of him or learned of his name. Miles supposed it could have been in a newspaper, though the source could have also been Wright himself for one reason or the other.
Making up his mind, he got to his feet and found an office chair to sit waiting. With the couch occupied with…clutter, it was the only free spot close to the door. Trucy seemed to take it as her cue to follow. He watched the girl eye the desk, swipe all the documents on top of it onto the ground—which made him wince—then hop onto the cleared surface with notable grace.
She sat watching him with a perplexing sparkle in her eyes. Not knowing what it meant and what more conversation he could make with an elementary schooler, Miles chose silence until the owner of the office inevitably arrived and explained the situation.
When the knob turned and a cautious head emerged through the door, Miles was surprised to see only one person entering.
He was also surprised to see Wright looking so…unkempt.
“Miles!” The man blurted, then seemed to shrink under the force of his glare. Miles crossed his arms over his chest and suppressed the faint impulse that tugged at his lips with fondness. It had been a month since he last saw the man. Greetings could still wait until he figured out what possessed Wright to leave a child unattended.
“I had not informed you of my early arrival. I apologize for that fact. However,” Miles gestured sharply between the man and the child. “Why is a kid left alone in your office, Wright, and where is her father?”
The girl turned to him, offended. “I’m not a kid! I turned eight this year!” He ignored her in favor of focusing on the man in front of him. Wright was frozen, not uttering a word. Miles figured that his scolding was that effective.
“I admit it’s not new for you. She's just as likely to be another Fey you took in.” He continued. “However, you are a working adult, not a babysitter. If you can't keep a constant eye on her, then it's much more responsible to send her home–” He saw Wright flinching, and a sudden sense of unease halted his thoughts. Miles processed the expression his partner wore, and in a matter of seconds, the justified anger he felt was replaced with dread.
“Miles…we should talk.”
“–Talk about what?” He was quick to reply. Knots were forming in his gut. Thinking over the details he had overlooked since arriving, things started feeling wrong. That unease took hold of his mind and began restricting his chest.
“Something happened. I… I'm taking care of Trucy at the moment. Also…” Wright brushed through his disheveled hair and didn’t meet his eyes. The expression he wore was tight with frustration. His face even grew red, as if their exchange was humiliating to have.
“I lost my badge. I’m not… working as an attorney at the moment.”
The tension in the room dissolved for a few moments as the pieces fell into place. Every mystery that was presented since Miles entered the office settled with an adequate explanation.
But a lurch of nausea quickly rose in his throat. “...How?”
And so Wright closed the office door, asked Trucy to play inside, and sat across from him to lay out the events that transpired during his absence.
Zak Gramarye’s trial and disappearance, the evidence planted in Wright’s possession, and the girl with no living relatives. Wright recounted the past month with concerning detachment. He didn’t maintain eye contact. Once again, Miles sensed a sort of shame planted in his partner’s tone and demeanor, but he couldn’t identify its source.
“It’s quite clear that you were set up.” Miles offered. “Undoubtedly, you were careless in that trial, but you’ve already made sufficient progress on setting things right.” He was compelled to present some reassurance, and the only way he knew how was to point out simple truths.
“This progress stagnated weeks ago. I haven't had a new lead in a while.” Wright countered with a soft sigh.
“You’re still on the right track.” Miles intentionally made his tone confident. Wright always had an amusingly high regard for his opinion, and that moment was one instance Miles felt grateful for that fact. If it could keep his partner from losing hope, he would stand his ground firmly on his opinion.
The prosecutor expected to see a sheepish smile on Wright’s face or to hear the man breathe with a weight lifted off his chest, but he didn’t.
“Truth be told, I wanted to have this whole thing resolved before you returned; that's why I didn't tell you anything over the phone.” Instead of relief, Wright continued to look worn. “It’s so embarrassing. You came in and saw this mess. I’m sorry, Miles, it’s just…” When the other finally faced him, his frustration made him look close to tears. “This is the first time I've genuinely not wanted to see you.”
The words fell on his ears to bring him a chilling coldness. Miles realized, with growing dread, that the high regard Wright treated him with was the exact source of the other’s shame. Miles’s presence at the office in its unseemly state, and him sitting across from the disheveled former attorney, it all trampled on Wright’s pride worse than any stranger’s judgment.
Miles also realized that the fear was well-founded, as he had an image of Phoenix Wright that shone…brighter than this.
“We’re going to fix it.” He spoke more sternly than he had intended. Miles was momentarily distraught, but he tried easing into a softer tone of voice. “I have some old connections at the bar association. I could also enlist the help of some trusted colleagues in investigating the matter of Drew Misham’s client.” He reached out for Wright. His hand settled hesitantly on top of the other's. “There’s a way forward, Phoenix… So don't regret my arrival yet.” Miles let out a quiet, anxious breath, and Wright’s eyes finally softened somewhat. They sat staring, but unease kept making his stomach coil. When he opened his mouth to try saying more, he found his partner leaning in and kissing him.
One could come to a better understanding of a person’s state the closer they were. Physical distance couldn’t have told him that the feel of Wright's skin was rougher. It also couldn’t have told him that his mouth tasted stale, as if he hadn't eaten in a while. Most notably, only when Wright was holding his hands did he notice how he was squeezing them, how it was the same gesture he always made as he saw him off at the airport.
“Daddyyy!” Trucy came running in with a loud whine. The two of them had little time to react before she crashed into Wright’s back and caused their teeth to clank. They immediately withdrew in pain while holding their mouths.
“It’s dinner time!! I’m hungry!!” She fussed about. Miles mentally scolded himself for forgetting perhaps the largest problem that Wright’s predicament left them with.
Even if they found the person who sought to ruin Wright’s reputation, it was a different man from the father who disappeared and left his daughter behind. Trucy…was Wright’s responsibility for the foreseeable future.
“Geez, was crashing into my back necessary?” His partner turned around with exasperation, though the ever-present smile on the girl’s face seemed to immediately soften Wright’s demeanor. Still, some tiredness persisted. “I’ll heat up the leftovers.”
“Leftovers again…?” Trucy’s bright expression clammed up into a sad pout. Miles could immediately see the guilt rising on Wright’s face.
“Sorry, Trucy. Just bear with me for today.” He covered her small hands in apology.
The whole display felt rather dramatic to Miles, and so he ignored it as he stood. “We can have dinner at the usual restaurant.” He stated simply and picked up his coat. The… father-and-daughter pair—still a strange thought—looked up at him, one bewildered, the other grinning.
The girl shook off her father, and before said father could protest, started making circles around Miles. “We’re going out!!” The prosecutor couldn’t help huffing with some amusement as he straightened his coat.
“Hey, Miles? Maybe this isn–” Wright reached out to get his attention, but Trucy spoke over him.
“There’s this pretty red car I saw from the window! Is it yours?!” She asked. Miles glanced at Wright’s conflicted expression but replied to the girl.
“Yes, it’s a sports car.” He said with some pride.
The girl gasped. “Sports car!!”
Miles had the distinct feeling that she didn’t know what that meant, but repeated the words anyway.
“Miles.” Wright tried again and put a hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate the gesture, but that might not be a good idea.” The words put a frown on the prosecutor’s face.
“Do you have somewhere to be?”
“Sort of, but other than that I don’t–” Tension sat on the other’s shoulder as he searched for his words, but backed away. “...I’m meeting someone here in an hour.” Miles tried gesturing for Wright to elaborate on his refusal. The other didn’t.
Under their peripheral vision, Trucy crossed her arms and hummed. “Hm, Daddy has to wait here, but Papa and I don’t have to. Doesn’t that mean we can go?” She looked up at him. Miles wondered if the girl simply chose to ignore his dissatisfied look.
“You can just call me Miles.” He tried.
“I like ‘Papa’ better.”
“I am not your father.” Miles noticed that Wright winced at his insistence. The prosecutor couldn't claim to know why.
“But Daddy said he loves you!” She protested and turned to Wright. “Didn’t you?!” Miles raised an eyebrow in his partner’s direction.
“Well, he's…” Wright paused. He seemed to have something on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't say it. “Just leave him for now, Trucy.” He ruffled the younger one’s hair, and it plastered a frown on her face.
When the silence lingered in the room for too long, Miles felt a flustering urge to say something.
“I can look after Trucy until you're done; then I can bring both of you home.” Though he wasn’t at all confident in his ability to look after the girl, he decided that he could try. If it could lessen Wright’s burden, he would give it his all.
To his relief, a smile softened the edges of Wright’s lips. “Yeah, okay. That works.” The man looked back at him and nodded faintly. “Thanks, Miles.” And those were really all the words he needed to hear. The distinct warmth Miles felt in his chest as he stood opposite Wright was the happiness of being relied on by his long-time friend and partner.
The simple act of getting Trucy to the car went less smoothly than it should. Halfway down the stairs, Miles looked back and found that the girl hadn’t kept up with him, leading him to ascend the flight again to find her. When they reached the car, she struggled with the knob, and he had to leave his seat to open the door for her. When she sat next to him in the passenger’s seat, she had no awareness of traffic safety, and he had to secure the seatbelt around her himself.
Trucy spent their time commuting either commenting on the inside of the car or curiously reaching out to touch the various buttons that sat on its interface. There were only so many things she could press that would cause trouble, but the possibility kept him anxiously glancing and checking. By the time they arrived at the restaurant, Miles was wondering how he could manage the remaining two hours.
“Cool view!” Trucy attached herself to the window. They sat on the second floor of the restaurant he chose. The girl didn’t seem familiar with the place, despite it being close to Wright’s home. It was a restaurant he often took the man to on weekends. The grill menu, along with its assortment of side dishes, was of agreeable quality and taste. Miles was hoping that it would please the girl just as much as it did her caretaker.
“You’re not supposed to stand on the chair, Trucy.” He tried instructing her. It was her hyperenthusiasm rather than her odd way of dressing that brought her looks from people. Perhaps a girl dressed as a magician passed for one that was coming back from a school play. As for his own appearance, Miles was beginning to believe that the people living in Wright’s neighborhood had grown familiar with his silhouette. Heads turned his way no longer when he walked the streets.
“There’s this photo Daddy keeps by the bed.” Trucy propped her arms on the table after she finally settled down. “You and Auntie Maya are in it, and you look a little younger!” Miles knew of the picture she spoke of. He didn’t share said knowledge. “Oh, Auntie Maya visited us last week! Pearly too! You know Pearly, right?” At her question, he nodded.
“Yes, I know Pearl Fey.” Specifically, the girl who had made an impressive fuss at the news of his and Wright’s relationship two months ago. Going from there, Miles was used to seeing a rather amusing amount of disdain in the nine-year-old’s eyes.
“She’s so nice! I like playing with her. Didn’t you and Daddy meet when you were our age?” Miles wondered just how much personal information Wright had been sharing about them.
“Indeed, in fourth grade.”
“I’ll be in fourth grade next year!” The girl giggled. Miles couldn’t claim to know why she was doing that, but he supposed it was better than making her cry.
Despite her complicated situation, Trucy seemed unafraid and trusting of those around her. For Wright’s sake, it was a blessing, but it left Miles uneasy for the girl herself. Living with strangers was… Well, it could be a lot of things.
“You make a funny face when you’re thinking.” She commented with a grin. The prosecutor found himself quickly schooling whatever expression she was referring to.
“My apologies.”
“You also talk funny.”
Miles cleared his throat. He was distinctly reminded of similar conversations he had with Kay Faraday. “It’s hardly polite to comment on others’ ways of speaking, Trucy. People have their differences.”
“Hey, I know that!” Her tone was painted with offense. “Kids in class say I dress and talk funny, but you know what I do? I tell them to keep their stupid words to themselves and shut up!”
His mouth hung half open, but he eventually managed a reply. “I see.”
“You should do the same thing, Papa! Don’t let other people’s opinions get you down!” Miles supposed that the girl wasn’t old enough to understand practicing ‘do unto others what you would have them do unto you.’
“I still fail to see why you insist on calling me that.” He opted to bring their attention to a more important topic of conversation. “Wright is already your father. Wouldn’t having another be rather redundant?” Though Miles didn’t hope to hear her suggest wanting a ‘Mommy’ either.
“Redun… um, you’re asking why I want you to be my Papa?” At Miles’s nodding, Trucy continued. “Well, Ellie from my class has two dads! They’re super nice, and they spoil her lots! When Daddy first talked about you, I was hit with inspiration!” She stuck her hand up in the air with dramatic flair. “My new mommy can be another daddy!”
And there the word was. Miles at least appreciated the fact that the girl didn’t use it outright.
Beyond the absurdity of the situation, he knew he was still in the process of, well, processing what Trucy was—an orphan Wright became the guardian of. With her father’s disappearance, in a matter of about 6 months, she could become legally free for adoption. Also accounting for her father’s criminal status, it wasn’t unreasonable to assume that she could soon go under Wright’s name.
A child of Wright’s…was inevitably going to be his responsibility by extension.
“Names and titles have little meaning. Now, tell me, how has living with Wright been compared to your previous home?” He settled on gathering information. Carrying out the responsibility he held could begin with understanding the girl herself.
Trucy crossed her arms and hummed thoughtfully. Again, many of her exaggerated gestures reminded him of Kay. “It’s kinda not that different. Me and Daddy lived in an apartment too. It was a little smaller. My now Daddy has a laundry machine in his apartment! Oh, and I like my new school better than the old one. It has music class!”
Miles sorted through the mess of words that was the girl's reply. He made a mental note of attempting to get Trucy to distinguish between her father figures better.
Still, he felt safe in drawing some obvious conclusions. Shadi Enigmar, more famously known as Zak Gramarye, was a performer at the end of the day. The Gramarye troupe, while successful, had their popularity on a steady decline ever since their founder and main performer fell ill. The money they made from shows was likely just enough to sustain their art, and not to live particularly comfortable lives.
Downgrading the girl’s quality of life after her father’s disappearance would have been one of the worst consequences of her situation, but considering the matter from another angle, a child who was so willing to let a stranger bring them into a new home was a concerning matter on their own. Even in the midst of the worst crevices of his guilt and grief, Miles did not remember being willing to replace the person he most dearly called ‘father’.
“Your food, sir.” A waitress prompted their attention. They had to make space on the table as she placed large plates across it. After nodding his thanks, Miles glanced to find Trucy picking at the food with fascination. She was at least using a fork to do so.
“Whatever you can’t finish, you can take home, so don’t push yourself.” Miles hoped that Maya Fey hadn’t taught Trucy any of her dining habits. “You wouldn’t mind eating these leftovers, would you?” He was satisfied to see the girl shaking her head fervently.
“Nope!”
Trucy repeatedly lost her fight against falling asleep next to him in the passenger seat. Their dinner time went over the two hours promised, and so the clock approached midnight. Miles assumed that Trucy had school the next day, seeing that it was Tuesday. Picking up Wright and delivering both of them home wasn’t going to take much longer.
When they arrived at the office building, Miles locked the car with the sleeping girl inside. It was only going to be a few minutes, after all. He ascended the stairs and opened the… ‘Wright Talent Agency’ door. It wasn’t surprising to find the office’s owner talking with a visitor.
Miles was, however, surprised to find the guest vaguely familiar.
“Oh, you’re back.” Wright rose to his feet and greeted him at the door. He looked more relaxed than earlier. Miles could almost see the ghost of a smile on his face.
Behind him, the man he vaguely recognized still sat on the couch. He nodded in greeting, and his blond hair tipped forward with the motion.
“This is Kristoph Gavin.” Wright gestured. He also got closer to speak more quietly in his ear. “The friend from the association I told you about? That’s him.” Understanding dawned on Miles as to why he found the man familiar. Gavin was a new star prosecutor whom he had heard of. Gavin was also associated with another famous name on the defense side. The brothers were well-known and bore a strong resemblance to one another.
Knowing that it was the younger brother who made a fool of Wright in court, Miles wondered how his partner had made so-called friends with the older one so easily.
“Kristoph, this is Miles Edgeworth. I’m sure you don't need an introduction.” Wright chuckled. The man on the couch left his seat to walk up and offer him a handshake.
“Only the most fearsome prosecutor the district has. No introductions needed.” Kristoph Gavin looked largely the same as he did in newspapers. His tailored suit and notably long hair sat in an orderly, careful manner to project the image the man wished to present. ‘The Coolest Defense in The West’, he could practically see the headline floating above his head.
Miles took his hand and nodded. “I appreciate your efforts in aiding Wright. We could use all the help we need at the moment.” He hadn't realized his use of ‘we’ until he noticed a slight arch of the other man's eyebrows. Miles mentally scolded himself.
“‘Aiding’ makes it seem like I've done much. The only thing I did do was oppose what I see as an injustice being done to a skilled attorney.” Gavin replied easily.
‘The only member of the committee that voted against Wright’s disbarment, ’ Miles noted his actions as he processed his impression of Kristoph Gavin. Wright had luckily stumbled upon a strong ally. “Nonetheless, you have my thanks.” After their handshake broke, Gavin checked the time on his watch. He proceeded to direct a closed-mouth smile toward Wright.
“It's been a pleasure. Think about what we discussed, and if you want to talk, you know how to reach me.” Wright was slightly uneasy as he nodded. After the defense attorney bid them both farewell, Wright held the door, and they watched the man disappear down the stairs.
When it closed, Miles couldn't help his curiosity. “Did he propose some sort of plan?”
His partner shook his head. His expression seemed melancholic, even as he smiled. “Not exactly. He was just reporting what he's been hearing at committee meetings. The news coverage about that case is getting out of hand, and I guess the guys above are worried about their reputation more than anything else.” Wright shook his head with exasperation. “Even if the real forger walked into the police station and turned himself in, I’m getting the feeling that no one will be very eager to hand me back my badge.” He paused, thinking. “At least not until the buzz settles down.”
Miles was admittedly already aware of that issue. He hadn't volunteered the perspective because it would inevitably dampen Wright’s spirits. He realized that it was sentimental of him. Sentimentality wasn't going to help his most dearest person, so he berated himself for the fact.
“I still think we should keep pursuing leads on the forger. After clearing your name, we could wait at leisure for the buzz to settle down.” He offered. Once again, his attempt at reassurance didn't bring the ease he sought to see on Wright.
“I can't exactly afford ‘leisure’ while taking care of a kid, Miles.” His partner put his hands in his pockets and gave the ground a light kick. “Is Trucy in the car?” At the nod Miles gave the other, he breathed easier. “Then let's get her home. She has school tomorrow.” All Miles could do was nod again and watch Wright close the office.
In the car, his partner sat in the back and left the girl to continue sleeping in the passenger seat. Miles occasionally saw glimpses of his expression while he drove. Wright was watching Trucy’s easy rest, and he was the most unreadable he had been all evening. The silence in the car wasn't broken by either of them.
As he watched them leave, Miles wondered what he was supposed to think of the sight. He wondered if he should be pleased with Wright’s ability to make a child feel safe with him, or if he should worry about the drastic change said child brought onto both their lives.
He bid his partner farewell. Wright didn't attempt to invite him upstairs, and Miles could imagine why. The man only leaned in through the window to press a kiss on his cheek and wish him a restful night.