Chapter Text
All the Pokemon Mia gave him have fainted by now, but not without taking their opposition with them. Explosion was a cheap shot, but who cares about that if it gets his point across? Mia has long since trained any need for fair play out of him, all in practice for the moment before him.
Phoenix tosses out his last pokeball, with its faded stickers and scuffs from fifteen years of rubbing his fingers on it and turning it over in his hands when he’s nervous. He doesn’t bother calling out the name—that kind of formality is a requirement in Gym Challenges, but Japanifornia has no gyms, no matter what Manfred von Karma pretends.
Luxray bursts out of her ball with a sharp cry, landing on her feet with a grace that always makes Phoenix want to laugh, remembering all her clumsy tumbles when she was a Shinx. She’s a wholly different creature now, at least on the outside. Her fur still sparks and her claws retain the energy of a Luxio, but her eyes gleam gold with stored energy.
He’s kept her in her ball for the past few days to make sure she’s fully charged for this fight. It’s been hard having to cope with the knowledge that he’s going to battle Miles and not being able to shove his hands in her fur and let her static clear his brain, but it’s more than worth it to see the brightness in her eyes. She can probably see past the bleachers and right through the stadium walls right now.
Phoenix is so caught on her that he almost misses the gasp from across the battlefield. Almost. He’s still tuned into Miles like the most stubborn radio on the planet, so he notices the unmistakable recognition on his face. It eases something in Phoenix.
He can’t hide his own shock when Miles tosses his last pokeball and an Arcanine hits the battlefield. Phoenix hasn’t seen this pokemon since she was an overprotective Growlithe tripping over Miles’ ankles and baring her teeth at everyone she didn’t already adore.
Now her cloudy white fluff has become ash shot through with lava. When she lands in front of Miles, it is majestic and fierce. Phoenix has always thought that her Hisuian form fit Miles, and if he’d ever needed real proof, here it is.
He hadn’t been sure that Miles used her in battles. No one else has ever pushed Ace Trainer Miles Edgeworth into needing his sixth Pokemon.
But here she is. Here they both are, on an even playing field at last. No type advantages or disadvantages. Nothing but fifteen years of growth and change between them. The last time all four of them stood together, Shinx and Growlithe were tumbling over each other while Miles and Phoenix sat together and laughed, thighs touching, Miles’ head on Phoenix’s shoulder.
Phoenix can see Miles considering what move to call out. He can taste the words Raging Fury on his tongue. Will he do it? Will he confine his oldest friend to a single move, force her to fixate on destruction when faced with familiarity?
Arcanine is faster than Luxray. They’re going first, no matter what Phoenix might want.
All he can do is wait and see what Miles chooses. The entire outcome of this fight, this encounter, Phoenix’s own Arceus-damned future hinges on the next words that echo around this arena.
He has his backup plan. Luxray is prepared for Wild Charge and the recoil damage if it comes to it, but he’s hoping to get lucky with Discharge, especially if Miles locks into Raging Fury. He’s expecting it. He sees that fire in Miles, that urge to hurt.
But what Miles spits out, fierce and certain, is, “Arcanine, use Extreme Speed!”
Despite the heavy hit they take, Phoenix knows that he and Luxray are both relieved. The instant Arcanine backs away, Phoenix shouts, “Discharge!” and unapologetically whoops when he sees the tell-tale signs of static that signal Arcanine getting paralyzed.
His heart pounds in tune with Luxray’s, and he knows they’re thinking the same thing.
They might just win this yet. They might just have a chance at what comes after.
The moment Arcanine faints, Miles has to exert a humiliating level of willpower not to follow her. As it is, his knees still buckle and he half-collapses to the ground, hand already reaching to tangle itself in her fur. He’s desperate to feel the rise and fall of her breathing, which is the only tether keeping him anywhere close to the present moment.
He knows he should return her to her ball, let her rest until he takes all of his team to the healing station. It’s no surprise that he’s taking the opportunity to be unforgivably selfish instead.
He lost.
Miles hasn’t lost a single battle since he was elevated to the Ace position. He’s rarely even needed to use more than half of his registered team. Today shouldn’t have been any different. Why the hell had it been so different?
He closes his eyes and thinks of the shining audacity on the other side of the field. He still hasn’t recovered from the jolt to his heart when he’d seen Luxray start to fall, then shake the hit off and steady herself.
She wouldn’t stay down. No matter what Arcanine threw at her, she refused to faint.
Pokemon developing a resistance to fainting when they have a particularly high bond with their trainer is a documented, if rare, phenomenon. Though it’s been years since they’ve seen each other, Miles is entirely unsurprised that Phoenix Wright would pull it off with his oldest companion.
He’s equally unsurprised that he and Arcanine have not managed the same.
“Hey.”
Miles jerks his head up in shock, too caught up in his own thoughts to notice Phoenix approaching. He should say something. He should do something.
Instead, he just sits there in silence as Phoenix Wright, a shining vestige of his happy childhood, kneels down next to him.
“I don’t know a good way to say this. I probably should’ve practiced before now, but it felt like jinxing my chance at winning if I focused too much on what would happen afterwards.” Phoenix gives him a sheepish smile. It’s such a horribly familiar expression that Miles is left reeling, as though he’d been punched.
Thankfully, the shock manifests as irritation. “Well, spit it out. You got what you came for. Go ahead and gloat.”
For some reason, that makes Phoenix look briefly, painfully sad. The emotion clears away quickly, replaced by the determination that seemed so foreign to Miles at the beginning of this battle. He can see now how well it fits on Phoenix. Who knew that shy little crybaby would become such a bold creature?
“This center is getting shut down within the week. CARD has all the evidence they need to strip Manfred von Karma’s credentials, at minimum. This was my last chance to talk to you and try to get you to come with me before it happens.”
Miles is aware that the von Karma Battle Center has often been at odds with some of the government’s Pokemon specific branches, particularly with CARD, but this is extreme.
“That doesn’t make sense.” He insists, trying to ignore the thoughts in the back of his mind slowly clicking into place. “What could CARD possibly have on him? What has this place ever done wrong?”
The sadness is back in Phoenix’s eyes. It’s familiar. Why is it so familiar?
“I can give you a pretty long list, if you really want. For one, they found out he’s been in contact with Giovanni from Kanto and Lysandre from Kalos, among others. But the most important part, at least to you…”
Don’t say it. Don’t say it, please, let me keep it all locked away and safe. Please, if you ever cared about me, don’t say it.
“Miles, I’m so sorry.” Phoenix speaks in a gentle, firm way that removes any hope of doubt. It’s almost cruel in its kindness. “Manfred von Karma is the one who killed your dad.”
Gregory Edgeworth had been an advocate and journalist in the Conservation, Advocacy, and Research Division since before Miles was born. He grew up hearing the passionate words of a true believer in Pokemon rights and the necessity of making sure anyone in powerful positions would be held accountable.
Miles had always been so proud of his father. As a child, he hadn’t exactly understood the details of that work, but he knew his father was doing something important. Something heroic, even. Something good.
It had been hard to keep believing in goodness after all that passion and belief took his father away from him.
And now, here’s Phoenix Wright, shining with an electric charge and full of hope. Even after all these years, it seems there is nothing Miles can do to escape the truth.
