Chapter Text
April 6 2014, 3:52 PM
Ivy University – Campus
Student Cafe
A young woman sat alone at a white lattice patio table, gingerly cradling a cup of hibiscus tea between her dainty fingers. The sun kissed her flowing locks, red and soft like the petals of a rose as she serenely gazed at the planter full of blooms dancing in the spring breeze. A parasol leaned against the table at her side, the same shimmering white as her sundress.
Miles came racing up in a flustered panic. Ashen hair askew, bow tie falling loose, struggling not to drop the multiple heavy books tucked under one arm or the wriggly little fluffball tucked under the other. His face was dotted with sweat and the top buttons of his shirt had flown open without his notice.
“I am… so terribly sorry,” he said as he set Pess free, then set the books down by the seat opposite hers. “I was studying just for a bit, I thought, and completely lost track of time.”
The moment paws touched ground Pess trotted up to the woman, tail oscillating with unrestrained glee, and begun the little dance of a dog whose legs were too feeble to launch him in the air and yet desired with every fiber of his tiny body to soar. Dahlia smiled sweetly at the display. Adjusting her chiffon shawl, she leaned down and gathered up Pess to sit in her lap.
“Why hello there, distinguished gentleman!” she teased. She giggled as she pressed her nose to Pess’s and received a happy little lick in turn. Then, she turned to Miles. “It’s fine! I wasn’t waiting for very long.” Her smile fell, eyes lingering on the stack of books. “You already have so much schoolwork on your first week of law classes?”
Miles sighed, plopping his chin in his hand.
“My first week. Everyone else’s tenth. So I have a lot of catching up to do.” He grabbed a book from the top of the stack, not really reading the title, and flipped it open carelessly. He thumbed through the pages before flinging it shut again. “I swear, this sort of thing used to come so easily to me, but every time I open one of Father’s old books I feel like my skull’s been emptied with a spoon.”
Dahlia blinked.
“Your father’s?”
“Hm?” Miles straightened up a bit. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned him before, haven’t I?”
Dahlia shook her head. Huh. They’d been dating for over half a year, surely the subject had come up at some point or other…
A voice that sounded suspiciously like Larry’s chided him for treating his girlfriend so coldly.
“He’s a defense attorney. Was a defense attorney.” Miles set his school bag on the table by her purse. “A rather famous one, actually.”
Obsidian eyes lighting up, Dahlia clasped her hands together.
“Oh! How exciting! What does he do now?”
Ah. They really hadn’t talked about anything in the past seven- no, eight months, had they?
Slowly, Dahlia’s innocent delight wilted away. Her smile waned. Pess whined.
“Oh… I’m sorry, I should’ve”—
“It was a long time ago.” He threaded his fingers through his hair. “I just… I didn’t realize we’ve never actually…”
Shit. Shit shit shit. Larry actually had a point.
“Er, h-how about your parents?”
Dahlia stared at him, unblinking.
“They aren’t in my life anymore,” she said at last, sans the smallest drop of emotion.
Ah.
Well.
Shit.
Miles felt the blood drain from his face.
“I-I am… so so”—
“As you said”—Her sweet smile was back, as if had never left. She stroked Pess’s ears.—“it was long ago. And truth be told, they… aren’t really worth missing.”
Ah. His girlfriend had just told him something rather weighty, hadn’t she? He should say something back. She’d already shot down an ‘I’m sorry.’ Would asking for more details be seen as prying? Would moving the conversation along be callous of him?
Before he could make up his mind, Dahlia was speaking again.
“I think it’s wonderful you’ve decided to study law.” She shifted slightly. Adjusted her position so Pess could sit more comfortably on her lap without her holding him in place. Then picked up her teacup, cradling it between both hands. “You seem… I don’t think ‘happy’ is quite the right word… Blossoms in the field. Bright against the pale green grass. A promise of joy.”
“That’s…” Miles trailed off.
“Santōka Taneda.”
He stared at her for a moment. Then, his cheeks began to warm.
Dahlia giggled.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush before.” She smiled. “Red suits you.”
And now the tips of his ears were burning as well. Pess’s head popped over the edge of the table and he gave a soft ‘ruff’ that Miles knew meant he was being laughed at. The traitor.
“Y-yes, well…” he cleared his throat, ignoring his dog’s mocking smirk. “Law was my passion once upon a time. It’s just a bit frustrating, not being able to understand the material as easily as I once did. As if I wasn’t already far enough behind him…”
Dahlia hummed thoughtfully, then took a slow sip of tea. The cup clinked against the table as she set it down.
“If you ask me,” she said, running her newly freed fingers through Pess’s fur. “I believe that passion beats natural talent any day. Life is queer with its twists and turns, As every one of us sometimes learns, And many a failure turns about, When he might have won had he stuck it out; Don’t give up, though the pace seems slow—
You may succeed with another blow. Edgar A Guest.”
Miles sighed, a soft smile gracing his lips.
“I’d like to think so to. However…”
Phoenix became a licensed prosecutor at the age of twenty. Where would he be in one year? Or five? Even if Miles miraculously passed the bar on his first attempt, he’d still be leagues behind the demon prosecutor.
Hah. He hadn’t even been taking classes a week, and here he was thinking about the bar with simple legal vocabulary making his head spin. He laughed, dry and bitter.
Suddenly, Dahlia rose from her seat. She set Pess down on the ground before smoothing out the front of her sundress, stepping around the table towards him. Miles looked up just as she reached down to brush the flyaway bangs out from in front of his eyes.
“But you know…” A playful smile tugged at her lips. “There is also such a thing as working too hard.”
Pess ruffed.
“See? The distinguished gentleman agrees with me!” She picked up her purse, her parasol. Extended a hand to him. “You could use a break. Why don’t we do a little shopping?”
April 6 2014, 4:29 PM
Downtown – Shopping District
A quick pit stop by Miles’s home to drop off his books was in order before beginning their date. Although Dahlia had used the word shopping, Miles had no expectation of either of them spending much money on this outing. There weren’t even any high-end shops on the street. Just small mom-and-pop artisan craft stores squeezed together directly across from a stretch of trees in springtime bloom. For the most part, Dahlia was perfectly happy to look into the windows and admire the handmade pieces, or step into the secondhand bookstores to thumb through old novels. Pess trotted along beside them until he grew tired and demanded Miles carry him. At one point they decided to get mochi so Miles passed Pess to Dahlia while he stepped inside. He came out to find Dahlia seated at the edge of a planter with Pess cuddled up in her arms, happily being fawned over by a small group of children. When Miles returned with the desserts and Dahlia stood to accept hers, the children were quick to give their goodbyes and go on their way. As they left, however, Miles caught a few brief comments.
‘Like a prince and a princess.’
‘Or a lady and a knight!’
Those sorts of comments weren’t terribly uncommon, directed their way. That didn’t make it any less unnerving to be followed by stares and whispers every time they went out.
April 6 2014, 6:04 PM
Downtown – Shopping District
Ayame Dreams
“Gosh, what a gorgeous couple!”
Miles flushed at the store clerk’s comment. Aside from himself and his girlfriend, there were few customers which meant the older woman was free to focus her attention on the pair of them. Dahlia didn’t seem to register the comment. Her eyes were affixed to a ring on the display.
“Miley, look! Isn’t it just darling?” she asked, pointing at the wrap-around ornament, crafted into the oblong shape of a small lizard. It didn’t look particularly nice, compared to some of the other pieces. Just a piece of brass. There were many more elegant or sophisticated pieces and yet Dahlia’s obsidian eyes were sparkling at the sight of it.
“I didn’t realize you liked jewelry so much,” Miles commented. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear any.”
Ever so slightly, Dahlia’s face fell. The woman behind the counter clicked her tongue.
“O-oh, well, in general I don’t,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and avoiding his eyes. “But I like cute things like this. Or if they’re sentimental, I suppose. Like a picture locket.”
That… was probably the sort of thing one should know about the woman they’d been dating for seven-eight months, right?
Dammit. He could hear Larry’s voice in his head again.
“So, er…” Miles shifted his hold on Pess so he could rub the back of his neck. “Would a bottle necklace be the kind of thing you like?”
Dahlia’s eyes snapped up from the display, wide, brows pinched.
“A… A bottle?” She tilted her head. “Do you mean like something you could hold a love note in?”
“Not quite. Actually, I found something a while ago; a small glass bottle attached to a gold pendant. The bottle isn’t large enough to hold any messages though. It barely looks large enough to hold anything more than a few drops of liquid, so I think it’s just decorative.”
“I-I see!” She plastered a smile on her face, crumbling at the edges. “It sounds cute! Do you still have it?”
Miles nodded. “I believe so. It should be in my dorm room somewhere.”
He had, of course, attempted to turn it in to the police. It went unclaimed and eventually passed back into his possession, where it was promptly forgotten about. Out of the corner of his eye, Miles glanced at her unadorned throat.
“Oh, I see.” Dahlia turned to the clerk. “Excuse me, do you have a restroom for customers?”
“In the back, sweetie,” the old woman answered as she pointed out an archway behind two clothing racks. Not waiting to be asked, Miles held out his hand to take her parasol and her purse.
The moment she was gone, the old woman slapped her hand down on the counter, making Miles jump and poor Pess yelp as he was accidentally squeezed too tight.
“Now listen here, sonny!” she chastised him, giving him a nasty glare that would have had Phoenix von Karma bowing his head in shame. “When a young lady says, ‘isn’t this cute,’ that’s when a gentleman says, ‘yes, of course dear!’”
“O-oh, is that right…?” Miles asked, feeling remarkably like a chastised grade school student.
“Incidentally…” The woman plucked up the price card tucked at the bottom of the jewelry display and pushed it across the counter towards him. “A bit of trash you found lying on the ground is not an appropriate gift for a lady.”
Wily old— Miles felt his jaw tighten, Pess mirroring his thoughts with an annoyed huff. Still… When was the last time he’d gotten Dahlia a gift? She never asked for much. At most he’d paid for some meals, bought her flowers on monthly anniversaries and the occasional holiday.
She’d knit Pess an entire sweater.
A soft whine. Looking down, he was immediately met with Pess’s wise, old dog eyes.
‘You know what you have to do, Miles.’
With a sigh, Miles carefully adjusted his grip, cradling Pess in one arm, Dahlia’s parasol hooked on his wrist, so he could dig his wallet out with his newly freed hand.
“Do you take card?”
April 6 2014, 6:09 PM
Downtown – Shopping District
Pess got tired of being held so Miles relocated to the strip of grass in front of the store while he waited for Dahlia to return, one hand folded behind his back. The paper bag crinkled as he ran his thumb over the bit of metal within. Pess had only just made himself comfortable lying in a spot of sun when Dahlia stepped out, eyes scanning the sidewalk before she found them. The pup raised his head with a happy whine at her approach.
“Thank you for waiting!” She accepted her parasol back gratefully. “I hope I didn’t keep you long.”
“Not at all.” Miles adjusted his grip on he bag as he turned towards her. Was… Had it grown warmer? “Er, Dahlia…”
“Hm?” She twisted her parasol in her fingers. “Yes Miley?”
“I’ve been… It’s been brought to my attention that… I’d like to…”
Pess lowered his head to the grass and proceeded to hide beneath his paws.
“...Would you close your eyes for me please?”
“Close my…?” Dahlia stared at him, confused. Then her eyes slipped shut. “O-okay?”
Miles cleared his throat.
“N-now, may I have your hand?”
Slowly, wordlessly, Dahlia raised her hand and offered it to him. Miles took the paper bag out from behind his back. Pulled out the ring. Dahlia jolted slightly as he took her hand in his. The ring was slightly large on her slender fingers, so he gingerly slid it onto her thumb.
“Okay.” He released her hand. “You may open your eyes now.”
Dahlia’s eyes fluttered open, and the very instant they landed on the lizard-ring wrapped around her thumb, began to shine.
“Oh, Miley…” Her voice trembled as she breathed out his name. For a brief moment, Miles feared he’d somehow made another misstep, but then she raised her eyes to his and her lips were drawn in the most radiant smile he’d ever seen on her face. “This is the most wonderful thing anyone’s ever given me! Thank you!”
It was not a particularly expensive ring. It had no gemstones or precious metals. There was nothing special about it aside from its unique shape. Dahlia cradled her adorned thumb as though she were wearing the most extravagant of diamonds.
“I-it’s noth— I mean…” Pess was judging him, Pess was judging him, Pess was judging him… “I’m glad you like it.”
Pess yipped in approval.
“Erm,” Miles coughed, “w-we should probably be getting you home soon. It’s after six.”
“Oh…” Dahlia glanced up at one of the street clocks a bit sadly. “I didn’t realize it was already…” Suddenly her eyes grew wide. Her rosy locks fanned behind her as she snapped her head towards him, smile once again sunny. “A-actually! May… M-maybe we can stay out a little longer this time?”
Pess rose to his paws, tail wagging, tongue lolling out of his mouth. He yipped in agreement. Miles couldn’t keep the confusion from his face even as he nodded in response to the request.
“Ah, of course. But don’t you like to get home early?”
Dahlia twisted the ring on her finger with a pleased hum.
“Well, yes, but… I’m not quite ready for today to end.” At that moment the wind picked up. And as it swept across the flowering trees, a delicate shower of petals fell down around them. “I think this might be the nicest date we’ve ever been on.”
Miles coughed, face fleshing.
“W-well then… I’d love to.”
A strange tension he hadn’t noticed fell from her shoulders. She smiled at him, grateful. Shifting Pess’s leash to his free hand, Miles offered her his arm. Dahlia wrapped her arms around his and allowed him to guide her down the street.
Miles blushed as he felt her lean into him.
April 6, 6:57 PM
Downtown
Molia Glorina Grand Park
They chose a bench near the fountain to sit and watch the sun slowly setting on the city-scape, Pess curled up between them. Her white dress was covered in grey-brown dog hairs by this point. A flower petal had gotten tangled in her hair. Delicately, Miles reached over and plucked the petal free before letting it flutter to the grass below.
It was a romantic scene. The sort of thing that would make most people happy.
Dahlia looked happy.
Miles's stomach twisted itself into knots. Did she usually look this way when they were together?
“What are you thinking about?”
Miles blinked, a bit startled by the sudden question. Dahlia’s onyx eyes held the distant glow of the setting sun, almost resembling rubies in that moment.
“You,” he finally answered. Then, upon realizing what he’d thoughtlessly blurted out… “Th-that is… I mean…”
Dahlia laughed as he failed to recover.
“Miley…” She turned to him suddenly, dark eyes fixed on his. He felt his heart begin to race. “Thank you for today. It was perfect.”
The thought occurred to Miles that Dahlia was rather easy to please. Guilt twisted his stomach into knots. He hardly knew a thing about poetry or romance, emotions or people. He knew logic. He knew reason.
Logically speaking, for her to be so moved by a few measly crumbs of affection, she must have received very little in her life.
Not worth missing…
“Earlier, you said…” Dapples of sun danced across the surface of the fountain. “Well, I can’t quite remember. A poem. Something about blossoms?”
“Blossoms in the Field, by Santōka Taneda,” Dahlia clarified, gaze drifting back towards the distant city line. “We’re doing a unit on his freestyle haiku in one of my classes. On the surface, it’s a lovely poem about the beginning of spring, but it’s more than that. It’s the end of winter’s long, bleak nights, the return of light, and of life. It’s a poem about hope.”
Miles stared at her.
“What made you think of it?” he asked.
“…You made me really happy today.”
He blinked. Chest tightening. Miles opened his mouth to speak but Dahlia continued.
“But I don’t think I’ve seen you happy even once this whole time I’ve known you.”
...Ouch.
Miles opened his mouth to attempt to refute her statement. A low whine from Pess cut him short. Absentmindedly, he reached out, hand halting before it could settle on Pess’s head or Dahlia’s hand.
“...You’ve been very kind to me,” he said at last. “Pess adores you. You’ve been extremely thoughtful and generous”—
“None of it made you happy though,” Dahlia interrupted. “For a while I started to wonder if you could be and then… Well, ever since you’ve been taking your new classes, I feel like you could. And that… I’d really like to see it.”
She trailed off. Pess cocked his head. Whined.
“Spring’s last petals fall, A final breath in the wind, Summer waits just past. Bashō.” She tickled Pess beneath his chin. “Beautiful moments aren’t less beautiful just because they’re over. That only makes them all the more precious.”
The sun continued to sink lower and lower until it vanished beneath the line of buildings in the distance.
April 6 2014, 7:42 PM
Ivy University
Men’s dormitory
Stars didn’t shine in the skies above. The city lights choked out all but the very brightest, and even those struggled to be seen against the slate sheet overhead. Or the occasional airplane or helicopter. Miles and Dahlia parted ways at the bus station, despite his offer to escort her back to the women’s dormitory.
“I’ll be fine on my own, Miley,” she’d assured him before stepping on the bus. “This is goodbye.”
“Until tomorrow,” he’d replied before the bus doors closed.
After, he returned to his home, briefly, to retrieve the books he’d left behind before the date.
By the time he’d made it back to his dormitory the outdoor lights were on. Most of the lights in the windows, however, were not, though it was not yet late enough for students to turn in. The school maintained strict quiet hours, especially after dark, and so those students who were not yet ready to settle in for the night tended to head out to Bar Sawa and the like to continue their evenings. As he carried Pess inside, Miles passed by a gaggle of college students chatting amongst themselves about whatever bars they wanted to hit while blatantly ignoring the residence hall director reminding them about the start of quiet hours in less than twenty minutes. They unfortunately spread out wide in the entrance way, forcing Miles to squeeze through the door when one stopped to exchange snarky words with the director.
He clipped his shoulders with a smaller figure he hadn’t noticed in the back of the group.
“Pardon me,” Miles apologized.
The smaller figure said nothing but turned his head away. Dressed in the university sweats with the hood drawn, it was impossible to see anything of his face. Suddenly and with an irritated grunt, he pushed his way through the knot of students blocking the entrance. Getting the hint, the rest followed after.
Miles walked in and straight past the elevators.
It was much quieter on the third floor, thankfully. Tuckered out from an exciting day, Pess had started to nod off against Miles’s chest, only beginning to stir as Miles approached his room. Pess wriggled in that way that meant he wanted to be let down.
“Not yet,” Miles spoke gently. “We’re almost home.”
The wriggling slowed but Miles could still feel the fluttering of his dog’s tail against the front of his shirt as he neared the room.
Only for it to suddenly go very still.
Pess’s ears flattened against his skull, tiny body becoming a bundle of nerves in Miles’s arm. And then he did something Miles had never heard him do before.
He growled.
“Pess?”
Miles stared down at his dog in shock. Pess continued to growl, a high pitched almost buzzing noise that would have been comical if it weren’t so utterly contrary to Pess’s usual temperament.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Miles said after a moment. “We’re almost home.”
One step towards the door and Pess was struggling, blunt nails kicking against Miles’s stomach. His growl became a distressed whine and then a series of high-pitched barks.
“P-Pess! Quiet, you can’t”—
With a surprising burst of strength for the small, elderly dog, Pess freed himself from Miles’s hold. At the same instant Miles lost his grasp on his legal texts and sent the heavy books flying across the carpet, some loose notes flying from the pages they’d been tucked between. Mouth falling open, Miles watched as his dog fled down the hallway, stopping several doors down only to turn and whine pitifully at his stunned human.
“Pess, what on earth has gotten into you..?”
Pess anchored his paws to the ground, looking liable to flee at any moment yet eyes locked anxiously on Miles. Hackles raised. A long, pitiful whine rising from his throat. Miles eyes drifted from his dog to the books on the ground to the door just in front of him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He couldn’t hear anything, nothing like an animal that might have gotten trapped in his room somehow while he was out.
Miles reached for the door. Pess began to bark.
The room was dark. Miles pushed open the door and was immediately assaulted with a familiar scent. Pungent. Metallic. His hand shook as he groped blindly along the wall for a light switch, beads of sweat welling across his brow.
‘I don’t know this smell.’
His fingers brushed plastic.
‘I was unconscious by the time it…’
Found the button.
‘I’m catastrophizing, it isn’t’—
The sudden shift from pitch black to bright left Miles momentarily blinded. Then he saw it.
Books scattered across the floor. His laptop knocked off the arm of the couch where he left it and in two pieces on the floor. Drawers pulled open and emptied out.
Red.
Red soaking into the carpet.
Red pooling beneath the body sprawled across his floor.
The floor gave way beneath his feet. Every single nerve in his body screamed at him to getawaygetawayGETAWAY yet not one muscle would so much as twitch. His beating heart threatened to shatter his ribs. Sweat poured down his face.
The air was too thin.
Dimly, Miles became aware of the sound of a dog’s—
Hisdogit’sPessPesstriedtowarnhimwhydidn’thelistenwhydidn’theLISTEN—
—barking. It sounded so distant. Like it was coming from the opposite end of a long, long tunnel. Thundering sounds. Voices.
Then blue.
Blue uniforms cutting into his vision.
Blue eyes set in a face that was suddenly in front of his. Words were being spoken at him. To him. This person was speaking to him.
—“ask again. What. Is. Your. Name?”
Miles blinked.
“Miles.” He wet his lips. “Edgeworth.”
The police officer held something in front of his face. A piece of paper. Crinkled. Ink characters slightly smudged in some spots.
“Does this letter look familiar to you, Mr. Edgeworth?”
Oh. It was a note. A note asking Doug Swallow to come see the writer in their room, signed…
Miles’s eyes grew wide.
“I… I didn’t write that.”
The officer’s stern expression remained fixed in place. The air was too thin.
“I didn’t… Wh-what’s happening? Why is there…”
Why were there police officers in his room? Why was his carpet soaked in blood? Why why why…
A gloved hand seized his arm. Before he knew what was happening, Miles found himself face down on the ground, his arms wrenched behind his back. Pess barked and barked and was ignored by the officers. Miles’s eyes met those of the dead man. Glassy. Dull.
“Miles Edgeworth, you are under arrest for the murder of Doug Swallow. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford”—
The air was too thin.