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One of Every Color	By : Croik Category: +M through R > Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney Views: 5688 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney / Gyakuten Saiban, its
characters and settings, are property of Capcom, and are being used here
without permission.� This fic is rated
NC-17 for adult male/male content and some violent material.� C&C welcome and appreciated.

One of Every Color
Chapter 2
Monday September 16^th, 2019.� 3:10 pm

Miles was still getting used
to people "dropping in."� He
didn't remember receiving so many visitors the last time he had occupied the
Los Angeles Prosecutor's Office.� At
first he thought it was simply the placement--he was closer to the elevator
than he had been three years ago, more convenient for anyone passing by on
their way to see the Chief.� It seemed
evident now, however, that the people who came in were actually there to see him.

That afternoon it was Ema
Skye.� She had taken to visiting often
now that she had finally been accepted into their city's law enforcement as
Crime Scene Analyst.� She had even worked
on the last case he prosecuted, which ended in a well-earned guilty verdict.� Having her around always kindled in Miles a
strange feeling of nostalgia. �He had
always been fond of her; she had been constantly in and out of the office after
her sister became Chief Prosecutor, and in those two short years he had
appreciated having someone around who was even younger than himself.

"They're still writing
about you," Ema said cheerily as she sat perched on the edge of Miles'
office chair.� She pulled what looked
like a tabloid out of her white lab coat and set it on his desk for him to
see.� "Near the back, but it's
there.� Looks like they finally got a
hold of one of your European friends."

Miles lifted the magazine,
flipping through to the last pages, where there was indeed another article
about him.� There had been several since
his unexpected return, in newspapers and tabloids alike, flaunting every story
about him worth repeating.� He didn't
read them himself, but Ema did, and she would bring it to his attention when
anything too inaccurate was printed.� So
far he'd managed to get recanting statements from two such so-called
journalists, after threat of great legal action.

"I thought they would
have been bored of me by now," Miles said glumly as skimmed the
article.� At least it focused on his time
abroad instead of his personal life.

"Not until Mr. Wright
takes another big name case," Ema replied with a grin.� "It's been a while, but once he does I'm
sure it'll take the heat off."

Miles rolled his eyes.� Finding nothing worth suing over he handed
the magazine back to Ema.� "He'd
have plenty of work if he wasn't so picky.�
Though, now that you mention it�."�
He frowned thoughtfully as he recalled their brief exchange that
afternoon.� "He did say something
about a client earlier."

Ema dog-eared the article and
tucked it away in her coat once more.�
"He was at the station not long ago," she offered.� "Poking around the evidence room.� Detective Gumshoe was chasing him out just
before I left."

"Did he say what he was
looking for?"

"Nope.� Sorry."

Edgeworth drummed his fingers
against the desk.� He was not curious by
nature but something about Phoenix's
manner that afternoon had stayed in his mind.�
"I wonder what he's up to�."

*****

Phoenix bought himself a late lunch from the deli down the
street from the police station. �He could
tell why it was so popular with Gumshoe and the rest of the officers: the meat
was thin and fresh, and the meals came cheap.�
They must have done a lot of business.

More importantly, with the
lunch rush over there was a quiet corner table open at the back where he could
look over the evidence he'd collected.�
It was all photocopies and hastily taken pictures--Larry and Miles had
chipped in together to buy him a digital camera for his birthday that year, and
it was especially handy for recording evidence.�
After having read through the entire case file once, he went through
again as he sucked down his lemonade, scribbling notes on a yellow legal pad.

The arson had been committed
on October
2^nd, 2015.� Phoenix jotted down all the times into his notes: someone had
called 911 from the next building at 3:25 am,
and though the fire department arrived fifteen minutes later it took most of
the rest of the night to put out the blaze.�
Forensics later estimated the fire had been started around 3:15, having been sparked in the building's basement
laundry room with bottles of alcohol as accelerant.� Many shards of various colored glass were
found melted into the concrete floor.

"Sounds like Urami all
right," Phoenix muttered to himself as he went on to the evidence
against Chassie.� Police had arrested her
the day after, having been tipped off by an eye witness who saw her sneaking
into the building the night of the fire.�
She had been discovered at her house with freshly bandaged lacerations
on her hands and traces of many different kinds of alcohol in her hair.� The arresting officers described her demeanor
that morning as listless and disoriented.�
Once she was identified by the witness and a motive was established,
Miles would have had very little trouble convincing the judge she was guilty.

Phoenix sighed.� So far
it wasn't looking very promising, and when he noted the name of the witness his
spirits dropped even further.�
"April May," he read aloud.��
"Of all the people I didn't want to see again�"� He scratched her name down and quickly moved
on in the report.� "Let's see this
supposed motive�"

Urami had been right about
one thing, at least; the police had made no effort to hide the bias against
Chassie Gander.� "Known Shikabane
associate" was scribbled in on several pages of the report.� One of the fire's two male victims, Mel Arky,
was reportedly an employee of Blue Corp, which had--according to the
report--been at odds with the Shikabane Syndicate for years.� It wasn't that surprising, considering that
Blue Corps' specialty was collecting information, especially on people who
preferred to remain in the shadows.

"If Arky had collected
information on the Shikabane�it's no wonder they wanted him burned down," Phoenix mused.�
"Not that we'll ever know that."� It would be just like their city's fine law
enforcement to assume such evidence would have burned up in the fire.

Phoenix looked over his papers and pictures, sipping down the
last of his lemonade with a loud gurgle.�
You've won worst cases, he
told himself.� Eyewitnesses?� Hand
injuries?� A flimsy motive?� There's not a shred of conclusive evidence.

You've freed people on worse.

Phoenix shifted, and was reminded of the subtle weight in his
pants pocket.� He tugged out Urami's
small black purse, which he had avoided opening all afternoon.� With a deep breath he finally undid the small
gold clasp, turning it over to spill its contents onto the table.

It was a plastic film
container, the kind no one used anymore, now that digital cameras were readily
available.� It was rather anticlimactic,
which actually helped calm Phoenix's
nerves.� He popped off the black plastic
lid and this time discovered the real object: a roll of thin paper.

"Let's see�."� Phoenix tugged the paper flat, being careful to only touch
the edges in case there were fingerprints he wasn't meant to smudge.� It was a receipt, for a payment made in cash
to the Hotta Clinic.� Phoenix rolled his eyes at the other familiar name, but grew
serious once more when he took in the full information.� Chassie had been admitted to Hotta Clinic the
night of the arson.� In fact, if the
information on the receipt was correct, she had been undergoing treatment on her
hands during the entire window the fire department had specified as being the
time the fire could have been started.

She didn't do it.

Phoenix read over the receipt several times.� He compared the times to the fire
department's report over and over, until he was certain of what he was
reading.� Whatever his misgivings of
Urami had been until then, she had given him, and Chassie, an iron-clad alibi.

Stay calm, Phoenix told himself as he slipped the paper back into its
plastic container.� Just because Urami gave you this doesn't mean it's true.� You'll
have to go to the clinic, get an official report.� That
would be enough for an appeal.

Phoenix piled all his files and pictures back into his
briefcase, and tossed out the remains of his lunch on his way out the door.

*****

It was shortly after Ema left
that Edgeworth got a very surprising phone call.

His caller ID indicated a
cell phone number he wasn't familiar with.�
That in itself was unusual enough, as his office calls usually came from
within the building, or else the police station.� He answered, completely unaware as to what
would follow.� "Miles Edgeworth's
office."

"Mr.
Edgeworth�?"� There was no mistaking
that soft voice.� "I'm sorry to call
you like this.� Are you busy�?"

"Miss Ayame�"� Edgeworth frowned, and leaned back from his
desk.� "No, I'm not busy.� Is something the matter?"

"I thought you might
know where Mr. Wright is," Ayame said.�
"I can't reach his cell phone.�
He's not at his office, or at home."

"I think he's
investigating a case.� He could be just
about anywhere�"

Ayame paused on the other
end, and Edgeworth could just imagine the troubled face she was making.� "I see.�
I'll just have to wait, then�"

Edgeworth's brow
furrowed.� "You mean, you're in
town?� Did Wright know you were
coming?"

"Well, not really�but I
am in town."

Edgeworth's shoulders sagged
as he considered his options.� He didn't
know Ayame especially well himself, but he had defended her, and there probably
wasn't anyone else in the city she was as familiar with.� And it wasn't as if he had a case to work
on.� He sighed.� "Where are you now?"

"Outside Mr. Wright's
apartment�."

"Stay there.� I'll try his cell from here, and if I can't
reach him I'll come pick you up."

"You don't have to do
that," Ayame replied quickly.�
"I don't want to be a bother."

Edgeworth smiled thinly.� "A gentleman never leaves a woman
unattended," he told her.� Franziska
had beaten that particular tenant of chivalry into him enough times for him to
know.� "Just stay put.� One of us will be there soon."

"Thank you, Mr.
Edgeworth�"

*****

The Hotta clinic never really
changed.� When Phoenix passed through the lobby he noticed a few people in
uniform he didn't recognize, and wondered if it was a good sign that some new
staff had been added.� After a bit of
asking around he found the "doctor" he was looking for.� It probably would have been a better idea to
locate a more reputable employee, but for his purposes the infamous Dr. Hotta
himself was best suited.� If anyone would
remember a female patient--and be willing to hand over some privileged
documents--it was him.

Dr. Hotta never really
changed, either.� "Chassie,
Chassie�."� Dr. Hotta mulled over
the name, watching Phoenix as if waiting for something.� It wasn't until Phoenix handed over a picture of Chassie from the police
report that he seemed to remember.�
"Ah, yes.� Miss Chassie.� Mm-hmm.�
I remember."� His thin eyes
gleamed in a very unpleasant way.�
"I 'chased' her a bit myself, if you know what I mean.� Heh heh."

Phoenix winced.�
"I know what you mean.� Do
you still have her records on hand?"�
Please do, so I can get this over
with.

Dr. Hotta scratched
thoughtfully at his thinning, still pink hair.�
"Hmm, records?� Prob'ly.� Guess I better check."� Dr. Hotta waved for Phoenix to follow him and headed down a thin hall, towards
the back of the clinic.� "We're
doctors, after all.� Gotta keep proper
records'n such.� Am I right?"� He chuckled for seemingly no reason and
ducked into a small room of file cabinets.�
"Even when they don't want us to, eh?"

"I�guess so."� Phoenix glanced around the small records room, frowning at
the state of disarray it was in.� There
were open cabinets with papers spilling out of them, folders piled haphazardly
in the corner, even half an orange peel.�
It's not just him, it's the whole
clinic, he thought with another wince.�
Glad I didn't end up here when I was hospitalized�.

"Mm-hmm, here we
are."� Dr. Hotta pulled a cardboard
box out from under a table against the far wall and tossed the lid carelessly
aside.� On the side of the box written
with thick black sharpie were the words "My stuff - don't touch" in
sloppy handwriting.� As Dr. Hotta flipped
through the different files Phoenix
crouched down next to him to peek, and caught glances of what looked like
mostly young, attractive women.

Phoenix made a face.�
"You're stockpiling women's files?" he had to ask.

"Naww, naww," Dr.
Hotta insisted as he continued to dig through them.� "Just makin'm easier to find."� Phoenix didn't have time to reply before he suddenly
declared, "A-ha!"

Phoenix leaned closer as Dr. Hotta pulled out a thin folder
with "goth" written on the label tab.�
Sure enough, inside it was a small photograph of Chassie, looking even gloomier
than she had at the prison.� He quickly
scanned the discharge papers handed to him.�
"She was admitted the
night of the fire," he said, feeling a strange mix of elation and
excitement.� "She was here the whole
time--she couldn't have started it."

"Huh?� Oh, right.�
Hmm."� Dr. Hotta started to
put the photo Phoenix had given him into his pocket, only to have it
quickly snatched back.� He pursed his
lips out in a pout.� "Ain't she
'pposed to be dead by now?�
Executed?"

"Not with me
around," Phoenix murmured.� His
mind was spinning now--finally, a
case with a clear alibi.� "Can I
make a copy of this?� It's going to save
her life."

"Take it," Dr.
Hotta replied with a shrug.� "I gots
extras."

That didn't sound very
comforting, but it was the last of Phoenix's concerns at the moment.� He tucked the paper away into his
briefcase.� "Thanks, Dr. Hotta.� You've been a big help."

He seemed to brighten with
the praise.� "You'll tell her it was
me, right?" he said, his beady eyes gleaming with mischief.� "Tell'er I saved her life?"

"Uh�sure.� Of course."� Figuring he might as well play along, he gave
Dr. Hotta's shoulder a pat.� "I'm
sure she'll be very grateful."

Phoenix managed to slip out of the room, and the clinic,
before exposing himself to too much more of Dr. Hotta's unpleasant
mannerisms.� It wasn't until he was out
on the street again, feeling decidedly unclean, that it occurred to him.� He sat down at a bus stop bench so he could
open up his briefcase again and check the papers he'd just received.

They still looked
authentic.� But if this really is an alibi, why did her other lawyers not use it?
Phoenix wondered.� He
read over every line to be sure, and still could find no fault in Dr. Hotta's
record.� Urami knew this was here.� But
it's not in the police report.� Was it
never presented?� He frowned
sharply.� Has Edgeworth not seen this?

Phoenix stared at the report for a moment longer before
putting it away.� He was still collecting
evidence, and there would be time to ask Chassie about it before he officially
accepted the case.� I just hope this isn't one of Urami's schemes�

*****

A bus and a bike ride later Phoenix was finally turning down the street toward home.� He still had a few people to interview but it
was getting close to five by then, and it would have to wait until
Tuesday.� Angel wouldn't be hard to get a
hold of, now that she'd been accepted back into the force as detective, but he
had no idea where to start with April May.

As Phoenix approached his building he was startled to see a
familiar pair waiting for him.� He
recognized Miles first - it was hard not to, with that magenta suit of his -
and it made something in his chest clench unexpectedly.� What's
he doing here?� He gulped, wondering
if someone had spilled to Miles already just which case he'd been
investigating.� But then his gaze skipped
to the woman next to him, and he tensed all over again.

Along the sidewalk in front
of Phoenix's building was a low stone wall, and it was on this
that Miles and Ayame had sat waiting for him.�
It was just tall enough that both of their feet were dangling a few
inches off the ground, making them look very much like school children awaiting
their ride home.� Phoenix slowed and walked his bike the rest of the way.� In that short time until he was in front of
them his mind spun with too many questions: how long had they been here?� Why was Ayame even in town?� And more importantly, if they had waited here for some time, what had
they talked about?

"Phoenix�."� Ayame
smiled shyly.� "Good evening."

"Hi�"� Phoenix's own smile was a little shaky.� "Um�."

"You should keep your
phone on," Miles told him, looking distinctly smug.� "It's very rude to keep a woman
waiting."

"My phone?"� Phoenix dug into his coat pocket.� "But I turned it on when
I�oh."� He frowned down at the
device's blank screen.� "My battery
died."

Miles hopped off the wall and
tugged his coat straight.� "Be more
careful next time."� He turned to
offer Ayame a nod of his head.�
"Miss Ayame."

Ayame's hands tensed around
each other in her lap.� She looked
nervous, which wasn't in itself unusual, but it was strangely contagious.� "Thank you for waiting with me, Mr.
Edgeworth.� I'm sorry to have bothered
you."

"It was nothing.� Take your time."� Miles then looked to Phoenix again, his face taking on a more serious
expression.� His hand tightened briefly
against Phoenix's shoulder.� "Good
luck," he said.

Phoenix frowned, but before he could question what those
words meant Miles was already turning away, toward his car in the parking lot Phoenix hadn't noticed until then.� He watched the prosecutor go with a feeling
of bewilderment.� Of course it'd be when I'd rather avoid him that we keep running into
each other, he thought sourly.� Not to mention�.

Phoenix glanced back to Ayame, who was watching him
patiently.� There was something
approaching guilt in her eyes that made his heart sink as if he already knew
what she was going to say.� He leaned his
bicycle against the wall.� "Hey�I'm
sorry you had to wait.� If I'd know you
were coming, I would have picked you up�."

"It's all right,"
Ayame assured.� "I only decided
today that I was coming.� I should have
called ahead, but�"� She tipped her
chin down.� "I wanted to speak with
you."

Phoenix wasn't exactly well versed in relationship dynamics,
but even to him that didn't sound good.�
He gulped, and boosted himself up onto the wall next to her.� With his legs dangling he really did feel
younger.� "Is something wrong?"

"We haven't seen each
other for a while now," Ayame said quietly.� "We haven't really had a chance to
talk.� I mean, we've talked, but�."

After all the running around
he had done that day, the uncertainty and careful optimism, Phoenix wasn't certain how ready he was to face a
conversation like this.� Not that it
seemed he had a choice this time.� He had
to admit that he had been putting off discussing with Ayame the state of their
tentative relationship for a while now.�
"Do you want to come inside?" he suggested.

"No, it's all
right.� I'm taking a train home tonight�I
didn't want to inconvenience you."�
She smiled.� "Mr. Edgeworth
said you were investigating a case today.�
You must be very busy."

Phoenix bit back a wince.�
"Well, sort of.� But that
doesn't mean you have to rush off�."

"Phoenix...Nicky."�
Ayame reached out to him, hesitantly, and almost instinctively he took
her hand to hold between them.� "I'm
sorry.� I came here to tell you, I'm
going to be staying in Hazakurain from now on."

"Oh."� Phoenix lowered his eyes.�
He had been expecting her to say something like that.� "Yeah, I�thought you would.� It's your home, after all."

Ayame nodded vaguely.� "The city is too much for me," she
continued.� "I'm too used to being
in the mountains, and now, after being in prison�"� Her fingers tensed against his.� "Everything is so loud and busy, with so
many people.� It�frightens me."

I can understand that, Phoenix
thought to himself.� Hazakurain is so closed off and quiet. And Los Angeles is a bit
much sometimes, even for people who are used to it.� This city's no place for her.

When Phoenix tried to tell her the same, his mouth went suddenly
dry, and he had to recollect himself before he could get the words out.� "It's all right--I understand.� But you know, with my practice�"

"I know," Ayame
said quickly.� "Your work means a
lot to you.� You belong here."

He could see her shift out of
the corner of his eye, and when he glanced up found himself staring directly into
her soft gaze.� He couldn't remember
having seen that expression on her before, the kind of pained determination
that tugged at the lines in her face.�
"But that doesn't mean," Ayame told him, "we can't still
visit sometimes.� Right?"

Then it's over.
�Phoenix felt numb.� He
wasn't sure what a man was supposed to feel at a time like this, but he had
lost Ayame once before, in a much worse manner than he was now, so he couldn't
bring himself to be surprised or depressed by it.� It was like he had told Edgeworth all those
weeks ago--they had changed, and this was the way it should be for them.

Phoenix managed a smile.�
"Of course."

Ayame smiled back, her eyes
watering a little.� "I'm glad."

They sat on the wall for a
few minutes longer, just holding each other's hand as they watched the quiet
flow of activity pass around them.�
Finally Ayame spoke up, as it would soon be time for her to leave for
her train.� "Mr. Edgeworth said he
wouldn't mind driving me to the station," she said as Phoenix hopped off the wall and the helped her down.� "He only lives a few blocks from here,
so I can just walk."

"Oh�that's right, he
does."� The mention of the
prosecutor's name made Phoenix shift uncomfortably.�
"We did attend the same school for a while, after all.� We used to walk together in the
mornings�."

"He's a good man."

"Yeah�."

They hesitated awkwardly a
moment longer, and then Phoenix
leaned down, giving Ayame a soft kiss to her cheek.� It only seemed right.� "I'll be in touch," he
promised.� "Maya said she wanted to
come visit sometime around Halloween.� We
can all get together then."

Ayame smiled hopefully.� "I'd like that."� She gave his hand a light squeeze and finally
stepped back.� "Then�I'll see you soon,
Phoenix."

"Have a safe trip
back."

Ayame nodded, and turned to
head off down the sidewalk.� He watched
her for a while, and thought he saw her wipe her eyes, but he couldn't be
sure.� It wasn't until she disappeared
around the corner that Phoenix spurred back to life, walking his bike to the rack at
the side of the building.

It's the way things are, Phoenix
told himself as he pulled his briefcase out of his bicycle's wire basket.� You
belong here, she doesn't.� You didn't really think you could just get
back together like nothing happened, did you?�
Besides, if that's what you really wanted�you wouldn't have let her go so easily.� Right?

Phoenix sighed.� It was
easy enough to justify it that way.� But
he couldn't shake the feeling that something heavy was bearing down on him, that
some voice at the back of his mind was trying to tell him something he didn't
want to hear.

Or maybe that was the
lingering sensation of Miles' heavy fingers weighing on his shoulder.
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