Hi there!

Well, this is my first-ever fanfic for Phoenix Wright, and I wanted to make it a good'un.
So, here goes!

The concept of this AU is this: What if Phoenix never lost his job as a defense attorney?
Where would that place Apollo?
In the capable(?) hands of Marvin Grossberg, of course.

Since this fic is written in the style of the games, to some extent, images are also included. Please enjoy them!
I'm sorry that the quality isn't so great on a few, but my scanner sucks and my art skills aren't the greatest. But, I gave it a go!

Please read, and enjoy!!
- Rii

-///-

It was an easy job, to work for Marvin Grossberg.

The hard part was to have the patience to wait for him, though.

Apollo had been waiting for at least half an hour in the lobby of the court house, files and evidence collected in his arms as he continually glanced at the clock.

Five minutes, ten minutes, twenty minutes—and it was almost 10 o' clock, to boot.

Grossberg was known to show up barely in the nick of time before a trial, but this was just ridiculous.

Apollo was his fileboy and assistant, after all, and it was his job to make sure that all his evidence and case files were ready for his trials. And, the majority of the time, he did a good job, and all went well.

The imperative part, however, which Grossberg never seemed to be able to put through his meaty head, was to be on time. Even the greatest prepared defense and conclusive evidence couldn't justify lateness to a trial.

Apollo, while exasperated, wasn't all that worried, though. Grossberg would show up. He always did.

It was 9:55 AM. Yes, he'd show, he kept telling himself. Of course he would.

“Oh, please! Will you help me? Please!”

There came a voice. A soft, rather pathetic-sounding voice, its owner fast approaching Apollo.

Before he could do anything, his sleeve had been grabbed by a decidedly beautiful, if not also decidedly tearful, woman.



He figured the best course of action was rationality. “Uh, ma'am? Is something the matter?”

“Please, you have to help my husband!” she replied. “He's going on trial in only a few minutes, and they haven't even supplied him with a lawyer! I don't know what I'll do!”

Apollo blinked. “Uh... what?”

“He's absolutely innocent, but I have no idea if he can defend himself in a situation like this!” she continued. She bit her lip. “Please, could you help me? Help him? Please?!”

“Er, ma'am... I think you'd better talk to someone else about this,” Apollo said uneasily, attempting to rend her from his sleeve. “I'm not exactly the best person to talk to about things like this.”

The woman, who already had tears sparkling in her eyes, looked like she was about to sob. “You can't be serious! Please! I need help!”

Her eyes, which were soft and gentle, though red-rimmed, seemed to pierce Apollo through his heart, and a freezing cold wave of guilt rippled through his body from the tip of hair to his toes. “Well... er, I could see what I can do-” he began, but was unable to say any more, for the woman had firmly grabbed onto his arm and was pulling him away from the courtroom where Apollo was to meet Grossberg. All of his files and evidence went flying into the air.

“Woah, woah, what are you doing?!” Apollo said, finding (surprisingly!) that he was having a tough time of keeping up with the woman's pace. “Where are you taking me?!”

“To the courtroom, of course!” she replied. “Oh, thank you so, so much for defending my husband! Really! Thank you!!”

Apollo grimaced, attempting once more to get the woman's hand off his arm, and miserably failing.

What was this woman thinking?! He had been thinking of perhaps asking Grossberg (if and when he showed up) if he knew anyone that would be able to defend this strange woman's husband, or maybe pull some strings to delay the trial. The last thing he wanted was to actually defend the guy!

“But I'm not a law-” Apollo began, when she shoved him within the courtroom, finally letting go.

Everyone was staring at him.

“...yer,” he ended, and gulped. “Hooboy.”

“I have found a lawyer to represent my husband!” the woman said, wiping away her tears with one hand, and holding up Apollo's hand with the other.

Horrifiedly, Apollo looked around the courtroom, gulping once more. In the prosecution box, a rather disturbing-looking man in a loud yellow suit; the judge, who was glaring at him rather sternly; and, near the defense box, a very grateful-looking man who seemed to be smiling at both him and his wife.

“Let's get on with it, then,” the prosecutor said, crossing his loud yellow arms, and tossing his stringy, balding head. “I've waited far too long.”

“Very well, Mrs. Wright,” the judge said, nodding. “Would the defense please, er, identify himself?”

“I... er... I... just one moment!” Apollo said, and dashed out of the courtroom, sliding against the wall and sitting, once he got outside. It wasn't long before his “client's” wife came out to see what the matter was.

“Is something wrong? Are you okay?” she asked.

“Ma'am, I don't know what gave you the impression, but I'm not a lawyer!” he replied, holding up his arms in utter confusion. “I'm just an assistant!”

“You're not?!” she said. “But I thought-”

“Ma'am, any time I spend in a courtroom is just observing my boss at work,” he replied, sighing. “I told you, I'm just an assistant!”

Once more, the woman looked like she was about to sob. “Oh, my goodness, I'm so... I'm sorry, really, I'm very sorry...” Tears oozed out of her eyes, as she tightly held on to her hands. “I really honestly thought you were a lawyer...”

Well, it was a bit of an easy mistake to make—with his well-tailored vest and pants, and the official-looking documents in his arms, he didn't look out of place at all.

Once again, a cold and terrible guilt surged through Apollo's body, and he ran his hand over his bangs, which returned to their upright state shortly after. He didn't even know this woman, and he felt like he was willing to die for her. What was wrong with him?!

Uncontrollably, he found himself saying, “Er... well, I don't think... there's anything against being represented by somebody who works for a lawyer... I mean, this is an emergency, isn't it?”

The woman wrapped her arms around Apollo, tears seeping into his collar. “Oh thank you,thank you,” she said, sounding absolutely drained. “I have no idea what I'd do without you. Oh, and I'm so sorry, I haven't even asked your name...”

“I'm Apollo Justice, ma'am,” Apollo said, laughing a little nervously as he managed to wiggle free from her hug. “And, uh, you are?”

The woman stood, brushing off her skirt, and smiling while she wiped away her tears. “I'm Iris Wright,” she replied. “Again, thank you so much.”

Apollo could swear that there were butterflies hovering in the air, from the honey-sweet smile Iris gave him. His knees felt a little wobbly. “Uh, no problem, Mrs. Wright,” he replied, getting up as well.

Well, Grossberg could do without him for a bit, and all the evidence was kinda... strewn on the floor in front of the courtroom for him to find. And, technically, he should have already found it, as (according to the clock on the nearby wall) it was 10:02.

“So, uh, before I go in for this... what's your husband been accused of?” he said, scratching the back of his head rather embarrassedly.

“Murder,” Iris replied, looking very worried indeed. “But he didn't do it! My Feenie would never.”

“F-feenie?!” Apollo said, wondering if that was her husband's actual name, or just a nickname. He dearly hoped it was the latter. “Wait-wait-wait, a murder?!”

Iris nodded sadly. “He was out getting some things at the convenience store one night, and he witnessed the cashier get murdered...” she replied. “They think he did it, but I know he wouldn't!” She had begun to cry.

“M-Mrs. Wright, please. It's going to be okay. Uh, I know it!” Apollo said, trying his best to console her. “I promise, I'll try my best!”

Iris, her tears disappearing, gave him another ice-melting smile, butterflies and all. “I'll stand with you in the defense box for support, you know,” she said, wiping her eyes. “My husband's a lawyer, and I've picked up a few things from him.”

“R-really, huh?” Apollo said, once again scratching the back of his neck. “That's something.”

And, together, they entered the courtroom.

“Is everything quite all right, Mrs. Wright?” the judge said, looking unusually worried—though Apollo figured that Iris must have been the cause for this. He hadn't even known her for more than five minutes, and already he found he could hardly resist whatever strange, supernatural “damsel in distress” vibe followed her.

“Yes, I just had to speak for a moment with Mr. Justice,” she replied, smiling. “It's all quite fine, now.”

“We're three minutes behind schedule,” the man in the loud suit said, flipping his hair once again. “Mr... Justice, was it?”

Apollo, as confidently as he could, nodded. “Yes, my name is Apollo Justice.”

“Please take your place. I'd like to begin this trial as soon as possible, Your Honor.” The man smirked, tapping his head in a very annoying fashion as he did so. “It shouldn't take long to finish this trial, so I'd appreciate if my time were not wasted.”

Somewhat scowling at the prosecutor, Apollo stood in the defense box and felt, for a brief moment, slightly strange.

Usually, it was Grossberg in this position, and now (however dubiously) he now stood there. Iris, sending a gentle smile in his direction, stood beside him.

“I'm here for you!” she said softly. “If you need any help, just ask me!”



From behind her, her husband, a man with spikey black hair and a blue sweatshirt waved. “Thanks, kid,” he said. “I'm counting on you!”

“The court is now in session for the trial of Mr. Phoenix Wright. Is the defense ready?” the judge said; a line Apollo knew very well.

“The defense is... ready, Your Honor,” he said, smiling afterward. Perhaps this was going to be easier than he thought!

“The prosecution is also ready,” the man in the yellow suit replied.

“Would the prosecution please give the court your opening statement, then?” asked the judge, nodding.

“Of course, Your Honor. The defendant, Mr. Phoe-”

“Hold it!!”

Everyone in the courtroom stared at Apollo, who had just shouted rather loudly and was pointing in the prosecutor’s direction.

“Ah… Mr. Justice, was it? Is there something wrong?” said the judge.

“Er… the defense just wishes for the, er… prosecution to identify… himself… as well...” he replied sheepishly. He shouldn't have gotten so excited! “Y’know, just to be fair...”

The prosecutor flipped his hair again. “My goodness, I’m quite shocked,” he said smugly. “Surely you’ve heard of the great Winston Payne?”

Oh, he had heard the name, all right, from Grossberg. Nothing kind usually followed it. “Only a little,” Apollo replied.

Payne smirked. “Consider yourself lucky, boy,” he said. “Your innocence of my skill might give you a fighting chance!”

If this guy doesn’t have an ego, Apollo thought, I don’t know who does.

“Mr. Payne, would you please continue?” the judge said, looking mildly annoyed.

Payne flipped his hair once more. “Of course, Your Honor. The defendant, Mr. Phoenix Wright, was at the scene of the crime, and there is evidence that he committed the murder as well.”

The judge nodded. “I see no reason to doubt the prosecution. Thank you, Mr. Payne. You may call your first witness.”

“Naturally,” Payne replied. “The prosecution calls the chief officer at the scene to the stand!”

And, so, the first witness was escorted to the stand by the bailiff.

She was, surprisingly, a rather cute young woman, maybe around Apollo's age. Funnily enough, she had on a pair of glasses with electric pink lenses, and had a bag stuffed with God-knows-what slung over her shoulder.

“Witness, state your name and-” Payne began, but the witness didn't seem to be listening. Rather, she was grinning.

“Phoenix? 'zzat you?” she said, and laughed when Apollo's client nervously nodded and waved at her. “Well, that explains a lot of things...” Her face became, unexpectedly, somewhat sad. “I never would have expected someone like you to do a thing like this...”

“No, no, it's not like that,” Mr. Wright replied, still smiling a little. “I didn't do it.”

“I'll be the judge of that,” the judge said, nodding in an absurdly wise manner.

“Um... Your Honor, isn't that what you're supposed to do?” said Apollo.

“Silence!” the judge exploded, pounding his gavel. “Further insolence will warrant a penalty, Mr. Justice!”

“I'm sorry!” Apollo said quickly, in a tiny voice.

“Witness! Your name and occupation, please!” Payne said, sounding rather annoyed.

“Jeesh, hold your horses!” the woman said, glaring a bit at Payne. “I was getting to it. I'm Ema Skye, and I'm a detective. I was at the crime scene for the initial investigation.”

“Would you please tell us the details of the case, Ms. Skye?” said Payne.

“Sure,” Ema said with a wink, and opening the bag over her shoulder, she proceeded to dig through an absolute trash pit of papers and snack wrappers. “Gimme a sec...”

“Er... take all the time you need, Ms. Skye,” Payne replied.

Finally, almost triumphantly, Ema produced a manila folder and held it in the air. “Here it is!” she said. “I got the floor plans and autopsy report in here, too.” It was with an almost childlike glee that she spoke of the latter document.

“The crime scene first, if you would please, Ms. Skye...” Payne said, in a decidedly forced patience.

“Yeah, sure,” Ema said, rolling her eyes, before she began to trace her finger on the map. “The victim, Rosemary Ricks, was found slumped over the counter of a SquickMart convenience store. That's right here, you see,” she said, pointing it out on the plans.



“Her throat was slit,” she explained. “That's the cause of death, after all—'blood loss, due to an injury of the neck with a sharp object,' so says this here report.

“There was also evidence of a blow to the head from a heavy object—which I've deduced to be a bottle of soda, by the way,” Ema continued. “There was a whole lot of root beer found in Ms. Ricks's hair and on the floor, and shards of a broken bottle... which I have...”

Once more, she dove into her bag, and after some rustling, produced a thick plastic bag full of glass shards. “Which I have right here!” she said, shaking the bag for effect. “It was able to knock her unconscious, due to the bottle being full at the time and thus pretty heavy.”

Ema stood there for a few moments, the bag dangling from her hand and making small clinking noises, before Apollo felt a slight nudge on his side.

It was Iris. “Ask her for more about the bottle,” she said softly.

“Oh! Okay,” Apollo said, and cleared his throat. “Ms. Skye, uh, were there any fingerprints found on this bottle?”

“There were!” Ema said, almost a little too cheerfully. Once again, she dug into her bag (putting the bottle shards and folder on the podium before her) before surfacing with another manila folder. “I have here a printout that we made after reconstructing the bottle in a computer. There's marks that show where the cracks all are, and the fingerprints, which belong to...”

She narrowed her eyes as she looked at a smaller section of text on the paper, then widening then. “Oh, they belong to Phoenix Wright. How about that?”

Apollo gulped a little as the observers in the courtroom murmured. “I see...” he said.

Payne smirked for what seemed like the trillionth time—his face had almost no other expression, it seemed. “So, it's rather clear that Phoenix Wright did it,” he said.

“We don't know that yet!” Apollo said hastily, kneading his forehead a little.

Payne flipped his hair, much to everyone's annoyance.

Iris's hand gently touched his arm. “Don't worry, just keep on going!” she said, giving him a sunshiney smile. Apollo felt just a little better, and managed a nervous smirk of his own.

“The court accepts these documents and the bottle as evidence,” the judge said, and copies of the documents were handed to both of the lawyers. “The defense may now begin its cross-examination.”

Apollo, seeing that Ema had nothing more to say, inspected the evidence, staring back and forth between the autopsy report and the bottle, the bottle and the autopsy report. There had to be contradiction somewhere, shouldn't there? When suddenly-

“Hold it!!” Apollo yelled once more. “Ms. Skye, I find something very odd about the prints on this bottle.”

“Oh? What is it?” she replied.

“Take a look at where the fingerprints are on it,” Apollo said. The prints were all along the body of the bottle, as if it were a cup or a mug. “In order to hit someone on the head, you'd have to hold the bottle by the neck, right? I'd imagine it's a bit awkward otherwise.”

“Well, normally, yes...” Ema replied.

“I don't see any prints on the neck, Ms. Skye,” Apollo smirked, and Ema gulped.

“Well, hey! Let me get to all of that, will you?” she then snapped. “We have a security tape, too! It'll answer that little question for you.” Once more, she was smiling.

Apollo jerked back a little. “A tape?!”

Payne, once again, flipped his hair. “It shows the murder being committed, you see,” he said. “Quite decisive evidence.”

“The court would like to see this decisive evidence,” the judge said.

“Uh, yeah! Show us!” Apollo said. This received a glare from both the judge, prosecution, and witness, and he shied back. “Er, sorry...”

“Don't worry about it,” Iris whispered, reassuringly. “You're doing fine.”

Apollo nodded, but not before the judge could get in a rather gruff, “Would the defense please stay quiet? They're showing the evidence.”

“Sorry,” Apollo and Iris said.

And so, the tape was shown.

The film was both colorless and soundless, and the camera was fixed on the cashier's station, with a rather bored-looking woman standing behind. Rosemary Ricks, thought Apollo, almost sadly, as she blew a bubble of gum from her mouth.



Suddenly, from the upper left of the screen, there came a person in a sweatshirt—their hood up, and their face obscured. Grabbing the bottle of soda (which had been resting on the counter), they smashed it over Rosemary's head, and she tumbled toward the counter. The attacker picked her up by the hair with their left hand, the gleam of a blade inin their right, before slitting her throat, glancing towards the back of the shop, and running back in the direction they came. Rosemary's blood began pouring to the floor.

It was then that Mr. Wright appeared, also from the left, looking very worried while dialing a number on his cell phone. He was wearing the exact same sweatshirt as the person who had killed Rosemary.



The tape ended, and it was clear that the bottle had been grabbed by the neck and smashed over Rosemary's head.

“See, that's my point!” Apollo said, barely able to contain himself once the tape was over. “It was held by the neck! So, why aren't there any fingerprints?”

Ema rolled her eyes. “What, it's not obvious? The culprit was wearing gloves. Hello?”

“I-I see...” Apollo said, running his fingers through his hair—of course they'd be wearing gloves! But why were Mr. Wright's fingerprints on the bottle in the first place...?

“Immediately following the police's arrival, Mr. Wright was searched,” Payne said, tapping his head as he explained. “A pair of plain, white gloves were found on him.”

“W-were they, now!” said Apollo, attempting his hardest to try and look cool, and failing utterly and miserably.

“From the tape, you cannot determine whether or not the culprit was wearing gloves at the time of the murder,” Payne continued, sounding immensely pleased. “Mr. Wright's gloves were, in fact, white, and would not be discernible from his natural skin color on the tape.”

“The court accepts the gloves into evidence,” the judge said, nodding, and tossing an unusually disdainful glance in Apollo's direction. “Mr. Justice, have you anything to say about this?”

Apollo thought. And he thought some more. And then some. But he couldn't think of anything.

Luckily, Iris was there as well. “He had gloves on, but why were there fingerprints...?” she began, and instantly, the idea hit Apollo.

“Yeah, why?” he said.

“...why what,Mr. Justice?” Payne replied.

“Er, why were there fingerprints on the bottle, though?” Apollo said, scratching his head. “I mean, if he was wearing gloves, how come his fingerprints were on the bottle?”

“Have you ever heard of pre-meditated murder, Mr. Justice?” Payne said, with another condescending smirk. “Ms. Ricks was known to have a history of bad performance in her job, according to her coworkers, and Mr. Wright was also known to be a repeat customer. I suppose she just went too far, one night? I can just imagine a plot like this forming in the mind of an individual such as Mr. Wright.”

“That's not a reason for a murder!” Apollo retorted, slamming his fist on the box. “Sure, I get bad service at restaurants all the time, but that's no reason to kill the waiter! And besides!” he added. “Wouldn't you not want to have any evidence of yourself left behind at a murder scene?”

The observers in the court murmured, but Payne seemed not to notice, once again flipping his hair. A few groans were heard. “People will do the strangest things,” he replied. “It's a plausible reason.”

“Er... yes. Well, I suppose you have a point,” Apollo said, practically sweating buckets in his nervous embarrassment.

Though I still don't understand how letting your fingerprints stay on one of your weapons could be part of some great master plan... He sighed. Great, what do I do now? thought. I'm absolutely hopeless... I shouldn't even be here!

“You're missing the most important part, Mr. Justice,” Iris said, giving him a vaguely urgent look. “Think about it.”

“But I have been thinking...” Apollo replied, to the point of whining.

Iris smiled, almost pityingly, at him. “What are they completely leaving out? What evidence don't they have?”

Very suddenly, it hit him, and Apollo's grin very well may have been wider than a tiki idol's.

“But where's the knife?”

“Excuse me?” Payne said, his smile dropping for a moment.

“We have Mr. Wright's gloves, and the possibility that the person on the video is him. That much is true. But where is the knife?” Apollo continued, still smiling. “Did you find it?”

“Er... Ms. Skye?” Payne said, beads of sweat already beginning to shine on the top of his balding head.

Ema was already digging through her bag, but it seemed her search was unfruitful, for she sighed deeply, frowning. “We never did find that knife.”

“See? If you can't find the knife, then you-” Apollo began.

However, he was harshly interrupted by the shrill of Payne's voice screaming, “Objection!!”


He could have sworn that at least one pair of glasses broke from the sound.

“Mr. Justice, you really are more of a naïve boy than I thought!” he said, and, once again, flipped his hair. “If Mr. Wright was wearing gloves as he used the bottle to attack Ms. Ricks, then there wouldn't be any prints on the knife, either. Would there?”

Apollo grimaced, realizing it was true. “Well, yeah... but-”

“So, it doesn't matter whether the knife was found or not, does it?” Payne continued, that same, disgusting smirk back on his face. “For all you know, Mr. Wright could have flushed it down the toilet, or thrown it outside!”

“Objection!!” Apollo yelled. He paused for a moment, feeling somewhat... empowered, before continuing. He was beginning to see why Grossberg had stayed a lawyer for so long, even though he said it made his “hemorrhoids act up...” which was, needless to say, very gross.

“It does too matter!” he said. “If it wasn't found, that's a huge problem!”

The observers began to mutter amongst themselves—which lawyer was right?

The judge's gavel quickly silenced them. “Seeing as the knife has not been found, as well as the validity of Mr. Payne's argument, we shall end this line of debate.”

“But-” Apollo began.

“It is ended,” the judge said, glaring in Apollo's direction. “And it had better stay ended.”

Apollo gulped. “P-point taken, sir. Uh, er... may I see the tape, again?”

“I don't see why not,” Payne replied. Ema, meanwhile, had taken out a bag of snacks and was munching rather loudly on them, seeing that nobody was paying any attention to her.

Well, everyone sure was now.

“Ms. Skye, what are you doing?!” said the judge.

“What! I'm hungry!” Ema replied, chucking one of the snacks at him. “Is there a law against eating in a courtroom? You're allowed water and stuff, right?”

“We are trying to watch a tape,” Payne said, one of his eyebrows twitching. “A little quiet would be... appreciated.”

“Whatever,” Ema said, and shoved the snacks back in her bag with a juvenile pout.

The tape was watched again.

Apollo, determined to catch something this time around, stared intently at the screen. Iris began to look vaguely worried at the intensity in which he was doing this—it was almost as if he were trying to will the TV to turn off, like a psychic would do on television. Even her husband was somewhat surprised.

All of a sudden, he saw it.

“Hold it!! ” he yelled, barely able to suppress the joy in his voice. “There is a very serious inconsistency! With this video! Yeah!”

Payne, for the briefest of moments, looked rather uncomfortable. “And that inconsistency would be...?”

“The bottle, of course,” Apollo said, pointing to it on the screen. “It was on the counter the entire time. The problem is, how did it get there?”

For the first time since the trial started, Payne began to look seriously ill. Apollo was delighted. He continued, “I mean, it obviously can't be Ms. Ricks's, because her prints aren't on it. Rather, Mr. Wright's are. Tell me, Mr. Payne,” he said, leaning forward and smiling almost wickedly at the yellow-suited prosecutor, “is there more to this tape than we are seeing right now?”

From the horrified jerk that Payne displayed, his hair swishing about his ears like a curtain, Apollo knew that there was definitely something being hidden from them. The sound of murmurs filled the air.

“Well...?” he said, tapping his fingers. “I'm waiting.”

The judge pounded on his gavel. “Mr. Payne, are we, in fact, seeing the entirety of this tape?”

A very long time passed before Payne shook his head, sweating like a sumo wrestler in a sauna. “N-no, Your Honor.”

Apollo, satisfied, banged his fist on the defense box once more. “Then let us see what you are hiding from us, Mr. Payne! Immediately!”

Payne was scowling. “Very well,” he said, in a tone as dark as he could muster. “I'll rewind it further for you, though it changes nothing.”

“This should be interesting,” Ema said, reaching into her bag for the snacks again as Payne rewound the tape.

“Ms. Skye! Please put those away!”

“All right, all right! I'm sorry! Jeeze!”

Once more, Rosemary Ricks stood, alive and minutes from death, visibly bored and chewing her gum.

The bottle was notably absent from the counter.

However, it reappeared in the hand of Mr. Wright, who approached her and set the bottle down, chatting with her in an almost… friendly manner.

He then seemed to suddenly realize something, before heading towards the bottom-left of the screen and into an aisle.

Seconds later, Rosemary was attacked.

“…well,” Apollo said, after a short bout of silence. “This is certainly something I’ve never seen before.”

“Me neither,” the judge agreed.

“I think, Mr. Payne, that seeing that film has significantly changed the course of this trial,” Apollo said, folding his arms satisfiedly. “We now know why Mr. Wright’s prints are on the bottle.”

“Well, of course they’d be,” Payne replied, glaring at him through his glasses. “He was putting it down so he might put on his disguise and come back to-”

“Objection!! ” said Apollo, and crossed his arms again after pointing at Payne. “Aren't you missing something? The attacker came from a completely different direction!”

“D-did he, now?” Payne said, with a certainly forced confidence.

Apollo nodded. “If you'll look at the tape, you'll notice that Mr. Wright heads to the bottom-left side of the screen, and the left-most aisle, correct? Yet the killer comes from the right-most aisle. It can't be Mr. Wright, it had to have been someone else!”

“Objection!! ” screamed Payne. “Mr. Justice, honestly.”

Clearly, he had done something wrong. Apollo grimaced. “Er... honestly what?”

“Take a quick look at the floor plans, if you would please,” Payne said, once again regaining his semblance of a cool. “What do you see?”

Apollo, stressful and confused, did so.

It was then that he noticed that there was a rather sizable path between a row of freezers and the aisles, which anyone could have easily used to make a U-turn and come running down towards the cashier from another aisle.

“Er... I think I see what you're getting at, er... Mr. Payne,” Apollo said, scratching the back of his neck.

“That Mr. Wright is obviously the killer?” Payne replied.

“No! Absolutely not!” Apollo said, pounding his fist before retracting it rather embarrassedly. “Just that, er... yes, that it's a possibility...”

Payne flipped his hair, and even the blithe Iris looked a little... peeved, if that was even possible.

However, she quickly tugged on Apollo's sleeve, and it became rather clear that her anger had origins that were possibly elsewhere. “Don't give up just yet, please,” she said, a ghost of a scowl on her face. “There's a way you can disregard all of that. I know you can think of it.”

“Er, how?” Apollo said. “That's a pretty solid explanation...”

“Ask Phoenix.”

Apollo gasped. Questioning his own witness? It was risky as hell, but...

“The d-defense has a request to make of the court,” he said.

“Yes?” the judge said.

“Could the defense, er, please question his client?” he said. “You know, like, his explanation of the event? Since we haven't heard from him yet, and we still don't know why he left the counter in the first place...”

“Objection! ” Payne said, rather sharply. “All evidence points to that he left in order to put his hood up and-”

“Objection!!” Apollo interrupted, managing (miraculously!) to sound sharper than Payne. Did he detect the slightest bit of a wince on his face? “That's all conjecture! We don't have the entire story yet!”

The judge shook his head. “That's very true. If the defense wishes it so, then they may call their client up to question.”

Apollo nervously glanced in Mr. Wright's direction, who smiled and gave him a thumbs up, before answering. “The defense, then, calls Mr. Phoenix Wright to the stand!”

The observers mumbled amongst themselves, though Ema seemed not to notice. “Uh, Your Honor? Does this mean I can leave, now?” she said, leaning and beginning to step off the stand.

“You may leave the stand, but you shall stay in this court, Ms. Skye,” the judge replied sternly.

“Rats,” Ema replied, before unexpectedly grinning. “Hey, but that means I can eat now, right?”

“You shall not!!” the judge replied, flames practically shooting out of his eyes.

“Okay, okay!! Sorry!” Ema said, and bitterly took a seat as Mr. Wright took the stand. “Cranky old man.”

“Watch it,” the judge said, pointing his gavel at her. Once he had turned his head, she stuck out her tongue in return. “Witness? You may begin.”

“Okay,” said Mr. Wright. “Do you want me to state my name and occupation like everyone else, Mr. Justice?”

Apollo glanced nervously between Mr. Wright, Iris, the judge, Payne, Mr. Wright, and Iris again. “Uhh...”

“It's your call, Mr. Justice,” Payne said, decidedly mockingly.

Thanks for reminding me, buddy, Apollo thought, and cleared his throat. “Uh, witness. Please state your name and occupation.”

“Sure. My name's Phoenix Wright. I'm a defense attorney, and head of Wright & Co. Law Offices,” he replied. “What do you need to know, Mr. Justice?”



His smile was almost as reassuring as his wife's, but in less of a sweet manner and more of an “I've got your back, pal,” sort of way. Apollo proceeded relatively confidently. “Mr. Wright, would you mind telling us why you so suddenly left the counter, prior to Ms. Ricks's death?”

“Ah, that,” Phoenix said. “You want the whole story?” Apollo nodded. “Well, first off, I was getting a root beer because I had a real craving for one, and I knew that the local SquickMart had them. So, I skipped out to get one.

“Right as I was going to pay for it, I thought it might be nice to get something for my Iris, too, so I asked Ms. Ricks if I could leave my root beer on the counter while I went to go get something else. I had just picked out a strawberry soda when I heard this smash and a sort of scream, so I started calling the police on my cell phone. By the time I got to the counter, the person who did it was gone, and Ms. Ricks was already dead.”

“Thank you for your testimony, Mr. Wright,” Apollo said, already running the facts back and forth through his head.

“No problem,” Mr. Wright replied.

“The defense may now begin its cross-examination,” the judge said, nodding.

Apollo gulped; now for the hard part—what should he ask?

“Go at it naturally. Ask him what you need to know,” Iris said. She smiled. “Don't worry, my Feenie won't lie. He'll tell you anything.”

“Er... thank you, Mrs. Wright,” Apollo said, not necessarily needing the Iris-induced butterflies in his stomach. “Mr. Wright; first off, I would like to ask if you were wearing gloves that night.”

“Gloves?” he replied. “Well, it was a rather cold night, so I was wearing them earlier. But I took them off once I got inside.”

“Which is why your prints were on the root beer bottle,” Apollo concluded, nodding. “Thank you. Er...”

Crap, he thought, I forgot what I was going to say...

“Have you anything more to ask?” Payne said impatiently, his arms folded and a rather frog-like frown on his face.

“Just a moment, er, Mr. Payne,” Apollo replied, scratching his head something fierce and tapping his fingers on his forehead. He knew he was forgetting something! Just what was it...?

“There is more than one bottle involved, you know,” Iris whispered.

“OBJECTION!!” Apollo shouted.

The judge and prosecution both peered at Apollo. “On what grounds...?” said the judge.

“Er... nothing! But I remembered what I was going to ask!” Apollo said, sounding unusually inspired.

“Then ask it, already,” Payne said, sighing.

“And please refrain from random objections of that sort, Mr. Justice,” the judge added.

“Er, yes, Your Honor. I promise,” Apollo said, unnecessarily nodding quite a lot. Satisfied, the judge nodded as well.

“Continue your questioning!”

“Mr. Wright, you said you were getting a bottle of... strawberry soda for your wife, correct?” Apollo asked.

Mr. Wright nodded. “That's right.”

“Mr. Payne, would you mind playing us that tape again?” Apollo said, smiling just a little. “There's something I would like confirm.”

“If you want,” Payne replied, suspiciously, and the tape was played as Apollo requested.

Payne began to look rather annoyed when the majority of the tape went by, and Apollo hadn't said anything. “Well...? Have you found what you want to con-”

“There, take that!” Apollo said, pausing the video and jabbing, with an almost insane enthusiasm, at Mr. Wright's figure in the bottom-left of the screen. “Look at his hand!!”

Where Apollo had jabbed, the neck and cap of a bottle could be clearly seen clenched in his hand, the obvious remainder of the bottle below the screen.

Payne gulped, but managed to half-heartedly flip his hair amidst the mumbles of the observers. “Th-that proves nothing!” he said. “He could have grabbed it while running for the other aisle, to cover himself!”

“Objection! ” shouted Apollo. “Mr. Payne, are you presuming that my client can stop time?”

Payne stared, grimacing. “What?!”

“I highly doubt,” Apollo continued, “that Mr. Wright could have possibly both taken off his gloves, and gotten a bottle of soda, and traveled across the store and called the police in what small window of time that the video presents. Clearly, only five to ten seconds at most pass between the murderer fleeing and Mr. Wright appearing on the other side of the store.”

Payne was visibly sweating.

“And,” Apollo added, “if the knife hasn't yet been found, then he'd have to haveeffectively hidden it during this timeframe as well. So, unless Mr. Wright can stop time, it's impossible for him to do all of this at once!”

Payne's arms went shooting, defensively, across his chest. Apollo had to keep himself from grinning too fiercely, but the rush was undeniable. Was this how it really felt to be a lawyer?

He continued, absolutely on a roll. “Mr. Payne, there is absolutely no way that Mr. Wright could have committed this crime. The only solution would be if there was someone else in the store. Tell me, Mr. Payne. There was someone else in the store, wasn't there?”

It was in that moment that Payne made a sound almost like a strangled cat, and the courtroom burst into muffled conversation.

“...Mr. Payne! Are you quite all right?” the judge asked.

“...just fine,” Payne replied, adjusting his tie, but his voice higher than the most talented of tenors.

“You still haven't answered my question, Mr. Payne,” Apollo said, almost innocently. “Was there someone else in the shop?”

“ Er... well... there is one person in the video who... may have seen it happen,” Payne said haltingly. “Unfortunately, er... we figured that they would not factor in...”

Apollo slammed his fist down very hard indeed. “Who is this person?”

Payne gulped. “I suppose I'll have to show you m-myself, then,” he said, and rewound the tape even further.

Once again, Rosemary Ricks stood at her counter, snapping her gum and looking astoundingly bored.

Mr. Wright entered the store from the unseen entrance beneath the door, gave her a friendly wave, and proceeded to the left-most aisle—to browse for a soda, they all knew now.

It was then that a woman entered.



A woman wearing a sweatshirt, who quickly glanced at Rosemary, before marching into the right-most aisle.

The courtroom went nuts.

“Mr. Payne, who is this woman?!” Apollo yelled.

“Er... well, we have yet to identify her,” Payne replied.

“We'll have the police run a face match within 5 minutes!!” Ema yelled, as she stood in her seat; she had, despite herself, gotten completely and utterly wrapped up in the energy of the moment and was nearly as pumped as Apollo about the whole affair.

“Proposal accepted. Mr. Payne, this woman is a valuable witness! Why did you not seek to have her in court?” the judge said, looking rather furious.

“Er... well, my theories at the time did not factor... er... her in...” Payne said, his voice dropping with each word.

“Speak up! I can't he-ear yo-ou!” Apollo said, cupping his hand by his ear in a gesture of mocking that Peter Pan himself might have admired. A few people laughed.

“Mr. Justice, simply because you have uncovered this information does not give you permission to poke fun at the prosecution!” the judge said, pointing his gavel at Apollo, this time. “I shall have no shenanigans in my courtroom of any sort!”

“Er... sorry, sir,” Apollo said, removing his hand from his ear to scratch the back of his head. “My bad.”

“Your bad indeed...” the judge mumbled. “The court will adjourn for a 20 minute recess. That is, if you can identify and summon this witness within that time, Ms. Skye?”

“I'LL DO IT IN TEN,” Ema replied, grinning. It was almost a little scary.

“Very well. Court adjourned!”

With the pounding of the gavel, adrenaline still coursing through his veins, Apollo exchanged a smile with Iris.

Boy, would he ever have a story to tell to Grossberg when the trial was over.



-///-

Profiles:
- Marvin Grossberg; Male, Age 73: My boss. A pretty good defense attorney, though getting a bit on in years.
- Iris Wright; Female, Age 32: Hired me to defend her husband, even though I'm not a lawyer. Very nice, however.
- Phoenix Wright; Male, Age 33: My unofficial client and Iris's husband. Accused of murder. Apparently also a lawyer.
- Winston Payne; Male, Age 61: Prosecutor. Very, very annoying and arrogant.
- Ema Skye; Female, Age 25: Detective. Seems to really, really like snacks.
- Rosemary Ricks; Female, Age 22: Victim. Used to be a cashier at SquickMart. Not very good at her job.

Court Record:
- SquickMart Floor Plan
- Rosemary's Autopsy Report: Died at 9:45 of blood loss, due to an injury of the neck with a sharp object. Hit on the head and knocked out prior to death.
- Bottle Shards: Shards of a root beer bottle. Carry Phoenix Wright's fingerprints.
- Bottle Reconstruction: Reconstruction of the root beer bottle, showing cracks and fingerprints.
- Security Tape
- Wright's Gloves: Gloves that belong to Phoenix Wright. They're white and cannot be differentiated from skin on black and white film.

-///-

So, who do you think did it? Is Phoenix guilty, or was it somebody else? Who is this mysterious woman from the tape? Will Payne ever stop flipping his hair?

The trial concludes with the next chapter.

Until then, I leave you on the edge of your seat.

Included in this installment are two goodies. :D



Iris's new design. :D As well as...



Our infamous victim, Rosemary Ricks.

I should do a bit of explaining about her name.
- English: Rosemary, her first name, is a sort of herb. Her last name, Ricks, comes from the pharmaceutical symbol, "Rx." In the original drafts, Rosemary was a pharmacist, but that got changed to a convenience store worker after a bit. The name stayed.
- Japanese extra! Rosemary's first name in Japanese is Kusuri, which means "Pharmaceutical." Her last name is Kousou, which means "Herbal." So, it's somewhat similar.

Please, tell me what you think!
I'll be hard at work on the next installment!

Last edited by Rii on Mon Dec 17, 2007 3:28 am, edited 1 time in total.

Wow, I like this story. It makes several changes to the timeline but that can be ignored. I feel that your story is very strong and the picture evidence allow us to figure out what's going to happen and gives it a sense of a puzzle, which I like. I would have liked to have seen the actual Images for the Hold Its, Objections and Take Thats but overall great story, keep it up.

I really like this. :3 Yes I do. The art goes so well with the action, and you actually made Iris look...attractive. I've not played PW3 up to that point, but DAMN, her sprite creeps me out. >< Only in your art style could I ever accept Feenris as a pairing. XD

Keep up the good work, Rii. Your sketches really help to visualise the scenes. ^^

---

Wow, this fic is awesome! The fact that you added pictures and stuff was really cool!

One thing I noticed was that... Iris seemed a little bit out of character? It might just be me, but oh well.. I liked how you protrayed Phoenix though! Speaking of those two, maybe you can explain history between the two =)

To those who played GS4... is that how Apollo and Ema act in the new game (I have yet to play it)? Because if so.. they both seem really cool! Now I can't wait to play as Apollo, he just seems like a really likable character.

---

If Ema acts anything like that, then you just sold me on GS4. Also, this case is pretty well done, so far! I know I don't have that sort of imagination.

No comment on Eximplodes remarks about Iris.

Very good story! I like it. Alternate Universes are fun to mess with. Your drawings are good... but unlike what ExImplode says, I kind of like the sprites better. No offense meant at all, your art is wonderful (And MUCH better than what I could ever hope to do - I can't draw to save my life), and all the crime pictures and stuff make the story practically come alive! :D

Eagerly awaiting your next installment!

---

HULLO.
I like your picchurs. And the story entertained me. I don't typically read Feenris but this was charming. Payne was creepily in character.
Nice job! :D Just make sure you watch the in-character motions, but I think you'll be okay.

---

Oh boy. For a moment there I thought Payne would win! I bet he wouldn't mind seeing Phoenix convicted at all considering all the cases he lost cause of him.

But Payne being Payne and Apollo being Apollo and especially Phoenix being Phoenix, I know they'll win this case!

Thank you for all the comments, everybody! I appreciate them all.
The images in this case are all of a uniform size, this time. So, hahaha. Or something.

I'm also working on programming a Visual Novel version of this case, using a wonderful software called Ren'Py. Anyone interested in playing it once I finish?

Anyways, without further ado, here's the second half of the case. :D

-///-

You were wonderful, absolutely brilliant!” Iris told Apollo, after they had left the courtroom.

Apollo scratched the back of his head, hoping he wasn’t blushing. “I’m just doing what I can, Mrs. Wright.”

“I’d have to say that I’m impressed, as well,” said a voice, and Apollo looked to see Mr. Wright had come out as well, and was standing beside his wife. “You’re exceptionally skilled, for someone who’s not really a lawyer.”

Apollo grimaced, but quickly tried to hide it with a nervous smile. “Er.. uh… what makes you say that, sir? Of course I’m a lawyer!”

“Kid, I’ve been at this job for nearly a decade,” Mr. Wright replied, smiling. “If there’s anything I know, it’s that a defense attorney just isn’t an attorney without their badge. I see you’re currently not wearing one.”



“A b-badge, huh,” Apollo replied; that’s right! Grossberg had one of his own, as well; a shiny, gold, button-like thing that he kept fastened on one of his lapels.

“You’re a real lucky kid, you know that?” Mr. Wright continued. “I’m surprised that nobody’s noticed yet.”

“Well… er…” Apollo said, before hanging his head. “Er… you don’t mind, do you?”

“Not in the least,” Mr. Wright replied. “I mean, you’re doing an impressive job. I wouldn’t stop you at all.”

“We won’t tell anyone,” Iris added. “Won’t we, Feenie?”

Mr. Wright shook his head. “Absolutely not. As a matter of fact…”

He began to dig into his pocket and pulled out… a shiny, gold, button-like thing. “Here, you can borrow mine for the remainder of the trial. I don’t want you to risk anything, all right?”

“Wh-what?!” said Apollo, staring at it. “You’re giving it… to me?!”

“Only lending it,” Mr. Wright replied, looking somewhat stern. “Go on, take it.”

“Th-thank you, Mr. Wright!” Apollo said, quickly taking the badge and fastening it to his vest.

“Please,” Mr. Wright replied, almost laughing, “call me Phoenix.”

Apollo laughed, and scratched the back of his head again. “Sure, okay! But I’ll still have to call you Mr. Wright in the court.”

“Yeah, I know,” Phoenix replied, and they all smiled together.

“…you know, I can’t help but wonder,” Apollo added, after thinking for a second, “why they even arrested you, Mr. Wright.”

Phoenix shrugged. “Murders tend to be rather… sensational, I guess,” he said. “Besides, I was the only person in the store when they came by in response to my call.”

Only person…? Apollo thought. That was certainly odd. “Yeah, but…what about that woman in the video?” he said.

“Oh, her?” Phoenix replied. He smiled sheepishly. “To tell the truth, the first time I had ever seen her was today in court, on that tape. I didn’t even know she was in the shop with me.”

Apollo’s eyes widened slightly. What? “Really?” he said. “So… if you didn’t see her, and she wasn’t found at the scene…”

His eyes wandered to the floor, and he thought for a moment, before quickly realizing, “There’s something strange going on with this case, and I have a feeling it has to do with that woman.”

-///-

20 minutes came and went, and Apollo had returned with the Wrights to the courtroom, but Ema Skye still hadn’t come back with the woman on the tape.

Payne was getting impatient, running his fingers through his hair (which had gotten much greasier, over the course of the trial) and constantly pushing up his glasses. “If she doesn’t show up in the next five minutes I’ll-”

“WE HAVE FOUND OUR WITNESS!” Ema yelled, bursting into the courtroom. “We found her! Ha! I told you we’d find her!”

“Er… So you did. Thank you, Ms. Skye,” the judge said, his beard looking almost a little more frizzed than usual, out of shock. “Witness, would you please take the stand?”

“Well, all right,” the witness, a rather pretty woman with thick, dark hair, said,” but I’m really confused as to why I was called away so suddenly! I mean, I had just barely been able to-”

“To the stand, please,” Payne interrupted, clearing his throat.

“Well, all right, if you say so,” she said, and was escorted to the stand.

“Your name and occupation, if you so please, witness,” Payne said, attempting to sound as polite as he possibly could.

“Oh, me? My name is Elle Mañana, and I’m a housewife!” She said this as if utterly proud of the fact, which was probably the case. “I have a doting husband and the most wonderful little boy in the world! My son is my life, you know.”



“That’s, er… very nice, Mrs. Mañana,” said Payne, forcing a smile of interest. “Now, we’d like to ask you a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Questions?” Elle said, tilting her head. “About what?”

An undeniable wave of “What is she thinking?!” fell upon the inhabitants of the courtroom.

Payne was affected quite visibly. “The murder we believe you may have witnessed, Mrs. Mañana.”

Elle gave a most fearful look. “Oh, you mean… that. The thing I saw happen at Squickmart,” she said, clinging to the straps of her purse, which was slung over one shoulder.

“That’s right.” Payne nodded. “Could you please tell us what you saw?”

“Well… I suppose,” Elle said, still looking rather troubled, “though it’s not going to be pleasant to talk about at all…”

“Just… your testimony, Mrs. Mañana,” Payne sighed, adjusting his glasses.

Everyone had a feeling that the rest of this trial was going to be a rather long one.

“Sure, okay! So, a night or two ago, I had just finished putting my son to bed, when I got this terrible craving for popcorn! There wasn’t any in the house, so I stepped out for a moment to get some from the local SquickMart. I went to the back of the store to pick some up, when all of a sudden, I saw it! I saw this man pull a hood over his face, and then go over to the cashier and break a bottle over her head! She collapsed, and he ran off!”

There was a very, very uncomfortable silence.

Apollo blinked where he stood. “Are you… kidding me?” he said softly.

“Is that, er, all, Mrs. Mañana?” Payne said, adjusting his glasses again.

“It’s exactly what I saw,” Elle replied, nodding.

“You may… begin your cross-examination, er, Mr. Justice,” the judge said, blinking. Apparently, he was as confused by the inconsistent testimony as everyone else.

“Er… right,” Apollo said, and cleared his throat. “Mrs. Mañana, I can understand if you’ve been a bit… scared by this ordeal, but you have to get your facts straight when you testify.”

“Huh? What?” Elle said, looking a little scared, but mostly confused.

“Mrs. Mañana, you said that you saw the murderer hit Ms. Ricks on the head with a bottle,” Apollo said, his arms folded. “However, you said, before that, that you were in the back of the shop. So, tell me.” He smiled. “You weren’t really in the back of the shop, were you?”

“I was!” Elle quickly shot back. “I could see the cashier!”

“Could you, now? Would you mind pointing out where you were, then?” Apollo said, feeling rather sure of himself. This was going to be far too easy. “We have a floor plan of the convenience store that you could use.”

“Oh, that’ll help a lot,” Elle said, and the bailiff brought her a copy of the floor plan and a pen. She drew a small shape somewhere, before having the bailiff hand it back to Apollo.

She had drawn a small circle in the right, upper corner of the shop—an aisle in which the check-out could clearly be seen.



“I saw everything from right there,” Elle said, nodding as she folded her arms.

Payne looked at Apollo with a smirk, expecting his opponent to be in a cold sweat—but, rather, Apollo was smiling. Payne was immediately worried.

“Mrs. Mañana, again, please get your facts straight,” he said. “It’s true that you very well may have seen this occur from where you stood, but how could you have seen the killer ‘flip up his hood’ as you said?”

“I-I saw him as he came down the aisle to attack, o-of course,” Elle replied. “He flipped up his hood right before he went down the aisle.”

Highly satisfied, Apollo nodded. “Mind telling us which aisle he came down, Mrs. Mañana?” he said. “We can lend you the plans again.”

“Um, sure,” Elle replied, once more being given the pen and the map by the bailiff—although, this time, she was a little slower in marking which aisle she saw the killer go down.

It returned with a mark in the aisle directly next to the one Elle witnessed the murder from.



Apollo couldn’t have been more excited.

“Mrs. Mañana, really, if you’re this upset, then we can let you rest for a while,” he said, sounding almost genuinely worried.

Not many other people had any idea what he was going on about, either, Elle included.

“I’m… not quite sure I follow,” she said.

“There’s a security tape in our possession, Mrs. Mañana,” Apollo explained, ever so gently, yet forcefully, “that shows, undeniably, that the killer came, not from that aisle, but from the one directly to its right.”He looked up with a rather cutting glance.“It just so happens that you said that’s where you stood, wasn’t it?”

Elle winced, looking very nervous indeed. Her hands clung tightly to her purse straps. “Then maybe I got mixed up…” she said.



“Objection!!” said Apollo. “Mrs. Mañana, you’ve already established that you witnessed the crime from here.” He pointed at the corner she had circled on the layout. “You can’t have seen it anywhere else!”

Elle was silent for a good while, biting her lip. Apollo exchanged a quick smile of victory with the Wrights, before Elle suddenly spoke. “Well… yes, it’s true. That’s where I saw it happen,” she said, her brows furrowed, “but I saw the killer approach from somewhere else! Remember that map I wrote on?”

“You mean the floor plans?” Apollo replied.

“Yes, yes, those,” said Elle. She smiled. “I got so muddled that I switched around everything in my brain! I’m sorry!”

“Mrs. Mañana, if you would please amend your testimony to reflect, er, the correct proceeding of events,” the judge said, clearing his throat, “we would all greatly appreciate it.”

Elle tilted her head and gave a smile to envy any one Iris might give. “Of course!” she said, and began.

“You see, I was in the aisle right to the left of that wall. You know, the one I said the killer went down. I saw a man pull his hood over his face as he was walking towards the other side of the store, and he was walking in such a strange manner that I followed over to the next aisle to see what was going on. That’s when I saw it! He just went up and hit her on the head with that bottle! I was so scared that I ran!”

Once again, there was a silence.

“Er… is that all, Mrs. Mañana?” Payne asked.

“Sure is,” Elle replied, smiling. “I’m sorry for messing it up earlier…”

“Yes, well… very well, then,” the judge said, nodding. “The defense may begin its cross-examination.”

Apollo was feeling confident, of that there was no doubt—but despite the fact that he knew exactly what he was supposed to say, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was treading on thin ice.

“Is something the matter?” Iris asked, after nearly a minute had passed and he hadn’t said anything.

“Er, no, no,” Apollo replied quickly. “I’m fine.”

Iris gave him a worried smile as he cleared his throat. “Mrs. Mañana, I’m just a little confused,” he said. “You said that you… ran away, upon seeing the crime?”

“Oh, yes,” Elle replied. “I was just so scared!”

“By what means did you get away, then?” Apollo asked. Elle blinked, looking very confused. “Er… how did you leave the shop, Mrs. Mañana?”

“Oh, that! There’s an emergency exit at the back of the shop. I used it, of course,” Elle explained. “Really, what else could I have done?”

“Perhaps called the police, Mrs. Mañana,” Apollo said smugly, but quickly adding (before Payne could shatter his eardrums with another “OBJECTION!”), “Though, in your panic, you possibly couldn’t.”

“Yes, er, that’s right,” Elle said, nodding quite a lot. Once again, there was silence.

A very long silence, in fact, that lasted near to two minutes.

Iris cleared her throat softly. “Have you anything more to say…?” she whispered.

“I’m thinking!” Apollo replied, massaging his temples.

And his thinking soon paid off, for he began to grin. He had gotten a marvelous idea, but it had just taken a while to fully “catch.”

“Could the defense please ask Ms. Skye a question?” he suddenly said.

From the observer’s gallery, Ema’s head snapped up. “Ehwhat?!”

“What would the defense like to ask Ms. Skye?” said the judge.

“I just want to know whether or not there were any fingerprints found on that emergency door that night, Ms. Skye,” Apollo said, feeling immensely proud of himself. If this wasn’t going to be one hell of a piece of evidence, he didn’t know what would be. “Are there any reports available on that?”

Ema blinked a few times, before diving into her bag of papers, trash, and chemicals, and brandishing a small stapled packet of papers. Her rose-lensed glasses askew on her face, she shouted, “There weren’t any fingerprints found!”

Apollo felt, in that moment, quite like a god. Not necessarily like the god of his namesake, but something more like… Athena, or Thor, or something like that.

At any rate, his hell of a piece of evidence was now, absolutely, confirmed.

“Mrs. Mañana, I’m generally a very trusting person,” he said, in even, lecture-speaker tones. “From what you’ve told me, combined with the fact that you entered the shop, but did not exit on camera, I have very good reason to believe that you, indeed, used that emergency exit.”

“Well, of course I did, I-” Elle began, but was very quickly interrupted.

“However!” Apollo added sharply, causing Elle to deflate just a little. “This new evidence proves that there were no prints on the door. So, Mrs. Mañana, that means either one of two things: That you never used that exit (which I highly doubt), or that you were wearing gloves.”

Elle gulped as the court began to bubble with muffled conversation.

“Well, which is it?” Apollo asked, through the din—and, miraculously, it quieted down. “Did you teleport out of that store, or wear gloves?”

“Wh-what a silly question to ask!” Elle said, smiling nervously. “O-of course I didn’t teleport! Real people can’t do that! I was wearing gloves. It was cold that night, you know.”

“I see, I see…” Apollo said, smirking. “Then that means you’re a suspect, Mrs. Mañana, and a prime one at that.”

Elle grimaced, tightly clutching the straps of her bag. “S-suspect?! What do you mean?!”

“It’s really quite simple, Mrs. Mañana,” Apollo explained. “Not only were you the only one in the shop, besides Mr. Wright and Ms. Ricks, but you were also wearing gloves.”

“And h-how is this important, might I ask?” said Elle.

“Well, you see, the bottle that was used to hit Ms. Ricks on the head has fingerprints on it,” Apollo said, glancing at the reconstruction as he did so. “Mr. Wright's fingerprints, in fact. True, he had a pair of gloves on him at the time of the arrest, but there's considerable evidence that he wasn't wearing them at the time of the crime. Which means-”

“Objection!! ” Payne shrieked.

Elle grabbed at her heart, and even Apollo had gotten rather startled.

For the first time since the adjournment, Payne flipped his hair anew. “This is something you have not yet presented to the court, Mr. Justice,” he said, sounding decidedly displeased. “It's a very immature tactic to make things up as you go.”

Apollo, surprisingly angered, slammed his fists on his stand. “I am not making this up! I can prove it without a doubt!”

“Can you, now?” said the judge. “Well, then, why don't you share with us what you're talking about?”

“Sure,” Apollo said. “May I please see the video one more time?”

Payne scoffed. “We've seen that thing enough times, already.”

“The tape, Mr. Payne,” the judge said sternly, and so, it was played.

Apollo, feeling rather excited by this getting-ahead-of-Payne, paused it near the end, as Phoenix came on-screen for the last time.

“Mr. Payne, I suppose you could answer this next question for me,” Apollo said, folding his arms with great satisfaction. “What is my client doing in the video, at this moment?”

“It... appears he is... dialing a number,” Payne said, smelling a bad outcome for him, though confused as to what Apollo was getting at.

“Thank you, Mr. Payne,” Apollo said, nodding. “Now, does anybody in this courtroom have a cell phone? Anyone? Perhaps you, Mrs. Mañana?”

Elle thought for a moment, before opening a pocket in her purse and carefully retrieving an orange cell phone. It matched the warm orange of her jacket. “Here's mine.”

“Tell me, Mrs. Mañana,” Apollo asked, “is it easy to use your phone?”

“I'd' say it's fairly easy,” Elle replied, sounding vaguely ill at ease. “Why?”

“Is it as easy to use with gloves on?” Apollo said, smirking. “That is, is it any harder to dial numbers with them?”

“N-no, it's rather hard,” she replied, before glaring. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I'm just making a point, Mrs. Mañana,” said Apollo. “Mr. Payne, earlier, you proved that Mr. Wright's gloves could not be discerned from his skin, correct?”

“That is... correct,” Payne replied. Sweat shone from atop his head. “What point are you trying to make, Mr. Justice?”

“I'm just confirming a hunch, Mr. Payne,” Apollo replied. “You see, shortly after Ms. Ricks was killed, Mr. Wright appeared to call the police on his cell phone.”

He paused, taking a breath or two for good measure, before continuing. Elle, seeing that he wasn't going to ask about it anymore, returned her cell phone to the front pocket of her purse. Payne cleared his throat. “Yes, and?” he said.

“ I'm getting to it,” Apollo said, frowning a little. “Now, if he were the killer, he'd have to have taken off his gloves after performing the murder in order to call the police, however illogical that may be. For, you see, Mrs. Mañana,” he said, now addressing her with a rather determined stare, “there are no prints on the bottle that account for it being held by the neck to hit someone with! The attacker was, without a doubt, wearing gloves!”

His voice was rising, gaining a beautiful intensity that caused even Phoenix's angled eyebrows to rise. Payne looked like had been dumped, waist-deep, into a very cold lake, on the other hand.

“Therefore, Mrs. Mañana, I return to my earlier statement of you being the prime suspect,” Apollo continued. “In fact, I would argue that you are the only suspect, on account of this.”

“O-o-only suspect?!” Elle squeaked, her knuckles white from their grip on her bag. “Wh-what do you mean? Where's your proof?”

Apollo sighed. “I'll repeat it for you, if you'd like,” he said evenly. “Not only is it confirmed that you were wearing gloves that night, but you were shown to be in a position that corresponds with the killer's entry on the videotape, and you fled the scene! You are also the only person, other than Mr. Wright, who was in the store as a customer!

“Plus,” Apollo added, completely losing his even tone of a few seconds prior, “Mr. Wright has been proven innocent, hasn't he?”

There was a knock of wood on wood as the judge pounded on his gavel. “Not officially!” he said resolutely.

Silence filled the court.

“Er... is that all, Your Honor?” Apollo said, a decidedly confused look on his face.

“That is all,” said the judge.

Apollo took a moment to collect himself, before slamming his fists on the defense stand. “Mrs. Mañana, in the light of all this evidence, I would have to conclude... that you are the killer!!”

Elle looked positively furious. “How dare you,” she said, nearly whispering. “I am not!”



“Do you have any evidence to support yourself, Mrs. Mañana?” Apollo said, folding his arms, smiling. There was no way she could possibly...

“My purse,” Elle said, a chilling expression of determination on her face.

“Your... er, what?” Apollo said. Her what?!

“ In that video, the one you showed us all just now? The killer didn't have a purse with them,” Elle replied, matter-of-factly. “Mr. Attorney, I would never take my purse off in a place like that. It was a present to me by my husband, and it has all my ID, cards, pictures of my son...”

“Your point is...?” Apollo said, trying hard not to look hugely disappointed.

“My point is, Mr. Attorney,” Elle said, a trace of poisonous smugness in her voice, “that I would never, ever take my purse off in a convenience store. It's just too risky!”

“From the way she's so protectively holding it,” Payne said, managing a half-hearted tap to his head, “I'd have to say that Mrs. Mañana is indeed quite attached to her handbag.”

“I can't possibly be the murderer!” Elle continued. “It has to have been someone else! Maybe somebody came in through the emergency exit!”

“Objection!!” Apollo screamed, barely able to keep his anger from seeping into his yell. “Mrs. Mañana, there is absolutely no way that the killer entered that way, or exited!”

“Wh-why is that?” Elle said, frowning.

“Emergency exitsnever open from the outside,” Apollo said, though his voice wavered. “Besides... er, wouldn't the killer have come from the front, rather than go through all the trouble of getting through the back?”

“Objection!! ” Payne flipped his hair, much to Apollo's annoyance. Would he everstop doing that?! “To use your own words against you, Mr. Justice, that's only conjecture,” he said, a slimy snideness in his voice.

Apollo grimaced, his stomach plunging into a bucket of ice.

“Apollo, it's okay. Just hang in there,” Iris said softly, putting a comforting hand on his arm.

Elle sighed. “Listen, I don't know who you think you are, but you can't just go around accusing people like that!” she said, rolling her eyes. She glared at Apollo, as if challenging him. “Mr. Attorney, unless you can prove I was definitely the murderer, them I'm as innocent as you!”

She's right! Apollo thought, horrifiedly. His face contorted and squirmed as he thought of some way, any way he could prove something.

“Sometimes, the best course of action... is to bluff, I guess,” came Iris's voice, hushed and almost ashamed.

“There's one thing she hasn't yet mentioned,” Phoenix added—or was it just Phoenix's voice? Apollo's eyes were closed tight in concentration, and he didn't know if anyone was speaking to him at all.

It's the most important piece of evidence, but nobody knows where it is. The evidence that she shouldn't know about

Another voice touched his ears, female and unfamiliar—and yet, it was right!

There was something that Elle shouldn't know about! The one piece of undeniable proof!

Apollo sighed, regaining his cool. “I'm so sorry, Mrs. Mañana. Thinking it over, you can't possibly be the killer. I mean, after all,” he added, smiling slightly, “you'd never hide such a bloody knife in your beloved purse or anything, would you?”

“Of course not!” Elle replied. “The thing was absolutely coated in blood, I would never!”

Everything went silent. Elle immediately grew suspicious.

“Why are you all staring at me?” she said, looking from defense, to judge, to prosecution, to observers. “What is it?”

Apollo, full of cool confidence, folded his arms. “How did you know a knife was even involved, Mrs. Mañana?” he said. “After all, you ran away in fear after you saw the killer hit her on the head with a bottle.”

Elle nearly jumped a foot in the air out of astonishment, and the grip on her purse intensified to a near bone-breaking strength. “Well, I saw him slit her throat!” she said. “I really did!”

“Where, Mrs. Mañana?” Apollo asked.

“The corner of the shop, of course,” she replied. “Right before I ran away, I saw him slit her throat.”

Apollo shook his head. “Not this again...” he said. “If that were the case, Mrs. Mañana, then I doubt you'd be here speaking to us today.”

“Well... what do you mean?” she said, frowning.

“If you really were where you said you were,” Apollo said, holding the floor plan before him, “then the killer would have seen you as they made their escape, I believe. Besides,” he added, “according to the video, the only way the killer could have left SquickMart is through the emergency exit. I doubt that, if that were to happen and the killer exited right after you, Mrs. Mañana, then your safety wouldn't exactly be guaranteed.”

Elle glowered. “All right, so I didn't actually see it happen,” she said, diverting her eyes in angry embarrassment. “But! I saw it in that video you showed us! That must be where I'm remembering.”

Apollo shook his head, smiling ever so slightly. “You're a very clever woman, Mrs. Mañana,” he said. “You've certainly proven how you could have seen the knife. However,” he added, “there is one thing you have yet to tell us.”

He slammed his fists down, and like an executioner pulling the lever on the gallows, said, “How did you know that the knife had been hidden?!”

Elle's arms froze, folded across her chest. She gasped. “H-hidden?!”

“You were out of this court when it was revealed that the investigation of the crime scene could not find the knife—the murder weapon!” Apollo said, his voice filled with fire and conviction. “The knife was also never mentioned at all during the cross-examination, Mrs. Mañana, so you can't have heard it there, either!”

Elle bit her thumb, before suddenly cracking into a smile. A very, very uneasy smile. “My goodness! Wh-what is the police force coming to?” Elle said, laughing nervously. “They can't find a murder weapon? Not even a blood-stained knife? They must not be looking hard enough. I mean, it's a fairly small knife, it could be stuffed anywhere!”

“OBJECTION!!” Apollo cried. “Mrs. Mañana, how could you possibly know what size the knife was?”

“Er... I... I...” Elle stammered, her face white as a sheet. “I saw it on the video!”

“On the contrary, Mrs. Mañana,” Apollo replied. “You can't tell the size of the knife at all on the tape—the handle and the majority of the blade are obscured by the sleeve of the attacker's jacket.”

Elle gulped.

Then, she screamed.

She screamed a scream like that of a lioness, or a she-bear, her beautiful black hair blowing in some angry, unseen wind.



“SHE WAS ASKING FOR IT!” she growled. “SLEEPING WITH MY HUSBAND LIKE SHE DID! THE WHORE DESERVED TO DIE!”

As Elle stood alone on the stand, panting as the outraged court burst into murmurs and shouts, Apollo found himself panting for other reasons entirely—he felt absolutely thrilled.

“My goodness!” the judge exclaimed. “Bailiff, I believe we have our murderer! Take her awa-”

“OBJECTION!!!”

It was Payne, the sweat disgustingly causing his hair to stick to his face.

“Th-th-there is one thing you are gravely overlooking, M-Mr. Justice,” he said, managing a crooked, nervous smile, and even a floppy flip of the hair.

“Er... Mr. Payne, we got a confession,” Apollo said, feeling almost pitiful for the man.

“That is t-true,” Payne said, “but you have yet to prove one last thing!”

Apollo gulped—did Payne have a trump card?! Oh no... “Wh-what is it?” he said.

“ Just a simple thing, really,” Payne replied, the slightest hint of a pleased tone in his voice. “Tell us where Mrs. Mañana's murder weapon is. After all, if she's the killer, then she has to have hidden it somewhere.”

Apollo blinked, his eyebrows knit. “...can't we just ask her?”

“I'm not saying anything more,” Elle said, fiercely, through gritted teeth.

“See? If we can't find the knife, then there's no right to take Mrs. Mañana into custody,” Payne said, his glasses flashing. “You know first-hand what inconclusive evidence can do in court. Do you remember Luke Atmey, Mr. Wright?”

Phoenix smiled a little, and waved his hand. “Mr. Payne, I'm not defending here. But I do remember Mr. Atmey.”

Condescendingly, Payne semi-flicked his hair, his arrogance back with a vengeance. “I thought as much.” He returned to addressing Apollo. “Well, Mr. Justice? Have you any idea where the murder weapon may be?”

Apollo frowned, running his head over his bangs as he wracked his brain over the facts.

There was nothing!! Nothing was at his fingers—a dead end!

Apollo.

Where in the world could it have been?!

Apollo.

Where would she hide it?!

Look at her, Apollo. What do you see?

Who said that?

Look at her, Apollo.

There was a voice. That unfamiliar, female voice.

What do you see?

“What do I see...?” Apollo said softly, to himself, as he focused on Elle's seething face.

Suddenly, something strange, something powerful surged behind his eyes.

Uncontrollably, he found himself looking at her hands, nervously clinging to her purse. Clinging like they had been each time... Each time...

All of a sudden, he realized it.

It was all too simple.

Apollo smiled. “I believe I have the solution, Mr. Payne,” he said. “Mrs. Mañana, would you please allow us to examine the contents of your purse?”

Elle's eyes widened, and she clung more fiercely to the straps. “Why?!” she yelled, although by now, it was obvious why.

“It's because you've got a knife in there,” Apollo replied. “Won't you let us see it? It's no use hiding it anymore.”

What little color remained in Payne's face left as the bailiff extracted the purse from Elle's suddenly yielding arms.

Amidst the lipstick and wallets, there was a knife, dried blood still all along its blade.



“I do believe we have, without a doubt, our killer now, Your Honor,” Apollo said, as the court exploded with scandal-induced yelling.

The judge, his eyes wide, nodded. “Bailiff! Please have Mrs. Mañana arrested immediately!”

The two officers grabbed Elle, locking her hands behind her in cuffs. With the sudden realization that she was bound, that she was caught, she began to scream again, causing the court to go silent in shock.

“YOU MONSTERS! HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME! WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO MY SON?! MY ANGEL! NO, MY ANGEL!! LET ME GO, LET ME GO!!”

Wailing and sobbing by this point, Elle Mañana was taken out of the court.

After a large amount of stunned, almost pitiful silence, the judge cleared his throat.

“I do believe,” he said, “that the verdict in this case has been undeniably reached. The court finds the defendant, Mr. Phoenix Wright..."



"Court is adjourned!”

And, almost numb from the realization that he had won the trial, Apollo was quickly given a very long and very grateful hug from a very, very, happy Iris Wright.

-///-

“Uh, Mr. Wright, you can have your badge back,” Apollo said, once they had gotten out of the courtroom. “I, uh, don't think I'll be needing it anymore.”

Phoenix, with another one of his warm smiles as Apollo dropped the badge into his open hand, said, “Really? I'm surprised! You did so well in there, especially that thing you figured out about the purse—how did you do that, anyways?”

Apollo squinted—how did he figure that out, anyways? “Well,” he said, scratching the back of his head, “I guess it was just something I noticed her doing every time the subject of the actual murder came up.”

“Ah, a tell, you mean?” Phoenix said. “That takes quite a lot of skill, Mr. Justice!”

“Nah, it was more of a coincidence,” Apollo replied, not exactly wanting to add that he had noticed it because of the weird voice in his head. Voices in heads tended to not be well received. “When push came to shove, I think I just picked the right hunch, is all!”

“And a very good hunch it was!” Iris said. “It won the trial for us.”

“...not really, Iris,” Phoenix said, smiling a little embarrassedly—though was it on Apollo's behalf or his own? “I'd argue that the trial was won long before that Mrs. Mañana showed up, thanks to our friend Mr. Justice.”

“Aw, well... I just tried my best!” Apollo said brightly. “Looks like it just worked out, huh?”

“Sure did, thanks to some quick thinking from both you and my Iris.” Fondly, he stroked a bang behind her ear and kissed her slightly on the head. She giggled. “Speaking of which, 'Ris,” he said, scratching his forehead, “where did you find this kid? I thought I told you to go look for Grossberg.”

The words jumped from Apollo's mouth before he could even think about stopping himself. “G-Grossberg?! You were looking for Grossberg?!”

Iris and Phoenix both blinked. “You know him?” they said.

“Know him? He's my-” Apollo began, but was interrupted by a hearty clearing of the throat by the man himself.

“Well, well, well! Apollo, m'lad, what brings you here, so far away from my trial?” he said. “I was looking all—well bless my soul, if it isn't Phoenix Wright!” Grossberg's face lit up, just a little. “What a surprise! Been staying out of trouble, m'boy?”

Phoenix nodded, and grinned. “With the help of this brilliant young man, of course.”

Grossberg blinked. “What, Apollo? Help you?” he said.

“Apollo defended Phoenix in court today,” Iris beamed. “All by himself.”

“You helped a little, you know, Mrs. Wright...” Apollo said, wishing dearly that his face wasn't as red as his suit by now. “Your husband did, too.” And that strange voice, but he wasn't exactly going to mention that...

“My word, Apollo, you've certainly been busy while you were away,” Grossberg said. “If you don't mind me asking, just how in the world did you get acquainted with the Wrights in the first place?”

“That would be my fault, actually,” Iris said, waving her hand as she smiled. “I was told to try and find you, Mr. Grossberg, because there was a bit of trouble last night, and Phoenix was going on trial for it.”

Grossberg peered over the top of his glasses. “Trouble, you say?” he said.

Phoenix nodded. “Yep. I happened to be the witness to a revenge killing by a vengeful wife, and all the blame fell on me,” he said, and laughed. Apollo blinked—he thought it was funny?! “We couldn't find a lawyer in time, but I had a hunch that you'd be here today.”

“Which is why you sent me to go and find Mr. Grossberg,” Iris said, leaning her head in Phoenix's direction rather fondly. “Unfortunately... well, I couldn't find you, and the trial was about to start... I was put into such a panic...” She glanced downward, looking rather embarrassed at her behavior.

“Which is why you were so... er, upset when you grabbed me?” Apollo said.

“Exactly. But it's all right now,” Iris said, and smiled. The heart of every man present just about skipped a beat. “I'm really sorry I mistook you for a lawyer at first, Apollo. You really did well, though.”

Apollo smiled. “Glad I did!” he said. “I mean, compared to your husband—he's a lawyer, right?—how well did I do?”

As Apollo and Iris began talking, Phoenix motioned for Grossberg to follow him, and they stepped a few feet away. “Grossberg, I dunno about you, but from what I've seen today... wow.” He shook his head, almost in amazement. “That kid's got to be some sort of prodigy. I'd have to say that, if you polished them up a bit, his skills are on par with mine!”

Grossberg's eyes widened. “My word...” he said. “Are you serious?”

“I wouldn't lie,” Phoenix said, nodding. He glanced at Apollo and Iris over his shoulder, before looking at the floor. “You've got kid with lots of raw talent working under you, Grossberg. I'd hate to see it go to waste.”

Suddenly, he smiled, and looked up. “Hey, why don't you let me train him?”

“Train him?” Grossberg said, rather loudly. Phoenix shushed him. “Train him for what?” Grossberg continued, much softer.

“To be a lawyer,” Phoenix replied. “From what I've seen so far, he's got the potential to be a fantastic defense attorney. He's already good enough to fool Payne! Did you know that they didn't even notice when I lent him my badge halfway through the trial?”

“You lent him your badge?” Grossberg said, wrinkling his brow.

Phoenix sighed. “Nevermind! What I mean to say is that he's already good enough to be a lawyer as it is, that much is true. He just needs to become one officially. And you know what...” He scratched his chin, thoughts turning in his mind. “I'm sure he could pass the bar exam easily, from what he's learned working under you...”

“You are absolutely out of your mind, Wright m'lad,” Grossberg chuckled.

“Come on, Grossberg,” Phoenix implored, almost to the point of whining. “You know I'm right.”

Almost winsomely, Grossberg glanced at the young man chatting with Iris, and sighed. “He was only 18 when he came to my door, asking for a job,” he said. “Just 18, can you believe it? Such an eager boy. To think that he's learned all that from me...?” He sighed again, a deep, almost regretful sigh. “I'm going to miss that boy. I'm going to miss him.”

Phoenix very nearly gave the old man a hug. “Thank you,” he said. “This really is the right thing to do.”

Grossberg chuckled again. “Oh, I can already guess that's so,” he said. “You run along now, tell Apollo your plans. I must be getting on my way...”

Phoenix smiled. “Sure thing,” he said. “Hey, Apollo! I got an idea!”

“What is it, Mr. Wright?” Apollo said.

“Why don't we take you out to dinner? You know, as a thank you?” he said. “It's too late for lunch.”

“That sounds wonderful!” Iris said, clasping her hands together. “I know a wonderful restaurant we can go to.”

“Aw... gosh, you guys really don't have to...” Apollo said, smoothing his bangs as his face turned slightly pink.

“Really, I insist!” the both of them said.

Apollo smiled a little nervously at the sudden hospitality. “Wait... where'd Mr. Grossberg go?”

“He told me he was going home,” Phoenix said. “Come on, Apollo, it's the least we can do.”

“Well... all right, I guess,” Apollo said, smiling. “If you really want to.”

“Wonderful! Our car's this way,” Iris said, pointing down the hallway. “You know what, Feenie, I'm sure Trucy'd love to meet Apollo too.”

“Yeah, I think she would,” Phoenix agreed, laughing.

“...uh, who's Trucy?” Apollo asked.

“Our daughter,” Iris and Phoenix both replied.

“Ah!” Apollo said, imagining a cute little raven-haired girl, standing no taller than his waist. The Wrights didn't seem all that old, anyways—maybe only in their early 30's. He smiled. “I bet she's really cute. How old is she?”

“15,” Iris and Phoenix replied.

Apollo jerked a little. “Uh... wow, that's... well...” How could he put it without being rude? “Well, if it worked out for the two of you back then, then I'm glad for you!” he said, attempting to not sound skeeved-out at all.

Iris turned bright pink, once she realized what Apollo was trying, modestly, to imply. “She's adopted, actually...” she said quietly.

“Oh! Oh, well... yeah! That explains a lot!” he said, nervously forcing a laugh. “Sorry!”

“It's all right,” Phoenix said, having a good laugh from the whole thing. “She should be home from school by now, so we'll stop at home first. Ah, there's our car.” By now at the exit of the court house, they pointed to a rather modest blue car parked outside. “Iris'll drive.”

“Of course,” Iris said, smiling, as they exited.

“So, Apollo,” Phoenix said casually, as they walked down the steps together. “How'd you feel about becoming a lawyer?”

-///-

Thus ends Case A-1, The Accidental Turnabout. :D

As usual, some info on the name choices.
- Elle Mañana, Ashita Asako
English: Comes from the Spanish word, el mañana, which means "tomorrow." Doesn't have much to do with her character, really.
Japanese: A play-on-words with the word for "tomorrow morning," ashita asa.

Please tell me what you thought about it!
Case 2 will be up before you know it!

Last edited by Rii on Mon Dec 17, 2007 3:37 am, edited 2 times in total.

LOL WEDLOCK MUCH

Ahem.
I loved the case - it read just like a normal PW one and it was very clever. Manana was quite entertaining and all that evidence and such must have taken a lot of thought.
And Ema rocks. A lot.

Basically, the only qualms I had was to be careful with what words you choose. Such as at the end, you said Nick said something coolly - I can't tell if that was actually the word you wanted. But that's just nitpicky stuff, the story is quite clever! <3

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That was AWESOME!

Bet Payne's devastated. :D I like how Phoenix lent Apollo the badge ^^ And how Trucy was adopted. That explains a lot :)

EXCELLENT! This is becoming one of my favorite stories extremely quickly. I can't wait for the next chapter. I love the thing you've got going and... I have to admit, it's exactly the way that I wished it would've happened. Very nice job. This is one of the first fanfics I've seen that actually included illustrations along with the story. Most impressive. I really can't believe there are so many talented writers on this site. I LOVE IT! ELEVEN out of ten!

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It... was simply spectacular! :D The pictures made it all so real. I could imagine playing it in the game. I can't wait for the next case!

Also, Phoenix Sees What Apollo Did Thar. (First picture) XD

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Like what everyone else's been saying... This is awesome! This case was written so well, it felt like a real PW case, and the pictures really helped make it more cool!

This probably exactly how a good 1st case should play out. And I'm still really glad you got Phoenix and Iris together (with adopted Trucy =))

I simply can't wait for the next one!

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I'm impressed. This case was hilarious. Bonus points for the FeenRis factor. *conspiratorial wink* Art was a nice touch and you seem to have a knack with characters. Payne in particular was wonderfully rendered, and if Apollo really is much like your portrayal (which I strongly suspect he is), he's won me over.

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Hey, you guys!

I'm sorry to say, but I think this fic will be going on hiatus until Apollo Justice comes out on the DS in America. :)
You see, Klavier's going to be featuring in the next chapter, and I need to get a good feel for him before I start writing his court interactions.

So, I'm sorry! You're going to have to wait until February.

Fear not, though. I'll be working on other projects, just you wait!

Until then! And thank you all!

Yay! You post--Oh.



Oh well ^^ Absence makes the heart grow fonder, as they say. So until you add new stuff to this fic I'll read the old stuff!

*happily imagines Payne freaking out about losing to another rookie*

cool! It's a good story!

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