“Feenie…”

“Yes, Dollie?”

He knew what was coming next. She was getting all fidgety and kept looking off to the side, flashing her pink cheeks. Though her question always puzzled him, he never tired of her adorable nervousness that lead up to it.

“M-may I…may I have that necklace back?”

Phoenix protectively closed his hand around the trinket and smiled. “Oh, Dollie, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, okay? I really like it, I promise!”

“Oh…okay…That's good, I guess...” She looked down with a tiny sigh that Phoenix took to be sheepishness.

He chuckled and then cracked open his soda. They were eating lunch together, just the two of them like they did every day, starting from soon after they’d first met.

It had been a little less than three months since that fateful day in the courthouse, when Phoenix had run into Dahlia and his whole life had changed. She’d given him that little bottle necklace as a symbol of their love, and he wore it constantly. Secretly, it always stung a little that she asked for it back, but he knew his Dollie was a shy, gentle girl who probably found it embarrassing that her boyfriend went around with her special gift displayed on his neck, showing it to everyone he met.

“H-hey, Dollie?”

“Yes, Feenie?”

“There’s something I want to tell you—” He broke off suddenly with a violent sneeze, followed by three more. He’d noticed that he’d become more susceptible to colds and illnesses lately and figured that it was the stress brought on by his heavy workload; after all, he was studying to be a lawyer on the side, on top of all his regular homework and demands.

“Oh, Feenie!” Dahlia exclaimed worriedly, and then quickly turned to dig through her small purse. “Hold on, I’ve got just the thing…”

“No, really, it’s okay,” Phoenix said with a sniffle, though he was touched by her concern. Even if the necklace did embarrass her, she really cared. He knew she did. “Besides, I want to—”

“Here,” she said, holding out a small bottle. He took it from her and turned it over to read the label, hearing the soft rattle of pills as he did so. Coldkiller X, the bottle pronounced in big letters.

“Wow…thanks, Dollie!” he said happily, grinning goofily over such a little thing. “I’ve never tried this medicine before. This’ll be a big help, I’m sure. Thank you.”

“Of course, Feenie. You’re welcome.”

“…”

“…You were saying, Feenie?”

“Huh?”

“You said there was something you wanted to tell me…?”

“Oh! Yeah!” His grin became a little more abashed. This was it. The moment he’d been preparing himself for.

He’d never felt this way about any girl before. This feeling, it was indescribable—save for three little words. And he was ready to say them now. He knew she felt it, too.

The bottle in his hands was proof of that. He gripped it tightly.

Though they’d been dating for a few months, they hadn’t said it yet, at least not directly to each other. Phoenix figured that Dahlia was probably just too bashful to do it, so he was going to make the first move.

“D-Dollie?”

“Yes, Feenie?” She smiled at him, docile and patient and sweet.

He took a deep breath before he spoke, but his voice still cracked and he stammered. “I—I lo-love y-you.”

Phoenix watched as those soft brown eyes sprang wide open and a blush colored her cheeks even deeper than usual.

“Oh, Feenie,” she murmured with a sigh—a short, tender note, and almost a little sad, though he had to be imagining that.

Imagination or not, it made his brow furrow and he tried to resist the anxiety building up in stomach and closing in on his throat while he waited for her response.

“I…I love you, too, Feenie.” She tilted her head as she said it, looking right into his eyes. She seemed suddenly very serious, though the corners of her lips were still turned up.

He could’ve grabbed her and hugged her right then, he was so happy. He could’ve jumped up and danced crazily in relief. And he almost did, in fact, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment. Instead, he just beamed brighter than the sun and said, “Thanks, Dollie.” She nodded and smiled back.

He slipped the bottle of Coldkiller X into his pocket. It was another bottle she'd given him, another symbol of their love. But he would keep this one a secret between the two of them.



“Dollie…”

“Yes, Nick?”

Phoenix opened his eyes slowly, his head feeling thick and heavy. “Hmm…?”

“Haha! Looks like you dozed off for a bit, Mr. Ace Attorney.” He lifted his head up off his desk and saw Maya smirking at him.

He felt weary and a little sick, but tried to smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re r—achoo! Achoo! Achoooo!”

“Whoa! Those were some powerful sneezes, Nick,” Maya said, clapping her hands together like she was impressed, but she stopped when she saw the look on his face. “Are you sick or something?”

He sniffed and wiped his nose. “Well…maybe I am…” he answered hoarsely. His eyelids drooped, and he was fighting to keep them open.

“No wonder you fell asleep, you sound awful!” She reached across the desk and put a hand to his forehead. “Oh, jeez, Nick, you’ve got a fever! That’s probably why you were talking in your sleep. Come on, lie down over here.” She dragged him by the arm over to the couch in the reception area of the office. He let her help him take off his suit jacket, and once he was lying down, she draped it over him like a blanket.

“Is there anything you need, Nick? The great Maya Fey is at your command.” She smiled faintly, trying to keep it light, but she seemed a little anxious. He felt a familiar pang at her thoughtfulness, but he couldn’t place where he’d felt it before. He shut his eyes and tried to remember what he’d been dreaming about.

“Yeah…Coldkiller X, please…” he mumbled, more to himself than to Maya.

“At it again, huh?” Phoenix peered over Maya’s shoulder, trying to see what she was looking at. “All you do is read scrolls these days, it seems. What kind of assistant are you?”

He was only teasing her, but she barely registered his presence. Her nose was almost touching the parchment, her eyes scanning quickly over the foreign characters.

(Well, foreign to me, anyway—Maya probably understands most of it. She has to read it as part of her training to become the Master of Kurain, after all.)

“Mmm,” Maya murmured, clearly not listening or interested in conversation. Phoenix felt a little sting at the brush off, but tried not to let it get to him. He plopped himself onto the couch in the lobby of the office—Maya was borrowing his desk and they had no cases to work on that day—and decided to watch TV.

(Might as well get started on all those Steel Samurai DVDs Maya’s lent me…)

He felt oddly immersed halfway through the first episode when he suddenly heard a loud thumping sound. He glanced over at Maya, thinking she might’ve dropped a book or something, when he saw she was no longer sitting at the desk.

“M-Maya?!” He jumped up immediately, running over the desk and leaning over to find her sprawled on the ground next to her chair. “What happened?”

She merely groaned in response and he hurried around the desk, crouching down next to her. She sat up and put a hand to the side of her head.

“What happened?” Phoenix asked again, feeling slightly reassured that she could at least sit up on her own. “How did you fall?”

Maya sat there for a little longer, blinking dazedly until she seemed to realize what had happened. She suddenly plastered on a giant grin, though the muscles of her face appeared slightly strained and she looked pale. “I slipped, that’s all,” she explained with her vague smirk.

(What the…? That doesn’t make any sense. Something’s wrong, I know it.)

“How can you slip while sitting down?” he questioned incredulously, not believing her for a second. “That’s ridicu—”

“I just need a glass of water and maybe a burger,” she interrupted, getting to her feet and swaying slightly. He stood up as well, watching her closely as she took one step forward. “Then I’ll be good as—”

She pitched forward in mid sentence and his arm flew out right away to catch her. He pulled her close to steady her, and he could feel the heat of her forehead on his arm even through his clothes.

“You have a fever,” he said firmly, as if he were scolding her. “What do you think you’re doing walking around like this?”

“I was sitting,” she argued, still stubborn even in her sick state. “Anyway, it’s not so bad. Just a cold.”

“How long have you felt like this?”

“Um…a week? Or…or maybe not…” She sniffled, closing her eyes and leaning all her weight against him. “I can’t really remember…”

“A week?! You’ve got to be kidding!” That was unbelievable—and how hadn’t he noticed until now? He felt so sorry for her; he knew that she’d been so focused on her studying lately.

“S-sorry,” she mumbled, her eyes still closed. Her eyelashes were dark against her fever-flushed cheeks. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Nick…”

Phoenix sighed, patting her hair gently, trying to be as comforting as he could. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just work on getting you better.”

---

“Comfortable?”

Maya nodded, only her eyes and runny nose visible above the blanket. He’d set up a makeshift bed for her on the couch and a bowl of chicken soup was cooking in the microwave. He managed to dig up a bottle of Coldkiller X in the mess in one of his drawers and she’d taken a tablet with a glass of water. He couldn’t find a thermometer in the office, but figured that her temperature had to be at least a hundred degrees.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked, and she muttered something in reply, but when he told her he hadn’t her heard her, she merely shook her head and said she was fine.

(It sounded a lot like she said “just you” the first time…but I must be imagining things…)

Suddenly she sat up and waved him off when he warned her not to overexert herself. “Come sit with me,” she said, patting the cushion next to her invitingly. “Let’s watch some TV—you were in the middle of Steel Samurai, right?”

“I don’t know, Maya…” he said doubtfully, but sighed and sat down when she gave him an imploring look. “Are you sure you don’t want to lie do—?”

He broke off abruptly when she scooted over and then lay her head down on his leg. Once again, he could feel the heat emanating off her face through the fabric. He swallowed his surprise and decided to change the subject to something more serious.

(I need to get to the bottom of why she collapsed like that.)

“Maya…why did you get so sick?”

She kept her eyes on the TV screen, her voice cheery but forced. “Hm? I don’t know, I guess I got a virus or something. It came on so suddenly. Maybe I caught it the last time I visited Kurain—”

He cut off her rambling, not wanting to beat around the bush. “You’ve been overworking yourself, haven’t you?”

The prolonged silence that followed told him everything he needed to know. Far off somewhere else in the office, he could hear the microwave beeping, signaling that the soup was ready, but he stayed where he was.

“Maya,” he said, his tone growing soft. “Is this about taking over as Master?”

“It’s—” she started, sounding as if she were about to protest, and then exhaled loudly. “Well, kind of. I just…I have a lot I need to do. There are people counting on me. I can’t goof around so much. I need to learn, I need to study. I…I don’t want to let anyone d-down.” Her voice cracked on the last word and he could feel her whole body tense up.

“Maya,” Phoenix breathed, resting one hand gingerly on her shoulder. She didn’t move, her head still resting in his lap. “You’re not going to let anyone down.”

She lifted herself up into a sitting position, twisting so that she was facing him. “How would you know that?” she asked in a trembling whisper. Her lips quivered like she was trying not to cry.

“Because I know that you’re going to always do your best—you’re doing that already,” he answered very seriously, looking her right in the eyes.

“But how do you know, Nick? I-I mean, I’ve studied so much and there’s still tons left to do…” She trailed off and a tear escaped, trickling down the side of her face. “How can I possibly make a good Master? How can you be sure?”

He reached out for her impulsively, pulling her into an embrace. “I don’t know,” he admitted, speaking in a low voice. “But I do know that you can’t be a good Master if you get sick. You’ve got to do things at your own pace, Maya—I know you’ll get there. You have to give yourself a chance.”

Her fingers clutched at the back of shirt as if she were searching for something to cling to. “I’m just s-so worried, Nick,” she gasped as a tiny sob escaped her throat. “I-I don’t know what t-to do anymore.”

“I know. But I’m here, always. If you ever get sick again…I’ll make you soup every time, I promise.”

Maya relaxed her grip on him a little, taking in even breaths. “I…I’d rather have burgers,” she deadpanned, and Phoenix laughed and pulled away, patting her cheek. He got up from the couch and she lay back down against the pillows.

“Well, that’s too bad since your soup’s already made. Maybe next time—though I’d prefer it if you didn’t get sick again.”

---

“Wow! I feel totally refreshed!” Maya announced the next day as she strutted into the office. Her regular color had returned and she moved with renewed strength; she reached her arms above her head in a satisfying stretch. “That chicken soup you made really did the trick, Nick!” She stopped immediately as soon as she saw him on the couch, curled up with a blanket. “Eh? What are you doing lying down?”

“I think I got sick,” Phoenix moaned, not even opening his eyes to look at her. “I thought I’d be fine when I got here, but then I just had to lie down…”

“Huh?! Seriously? How did that happen? I wonder why you got sick…” She tilted her head to the side in guilty-looking curiosity.

“Yeah, I wonder,” he said, cracking open his eyelids to shoot her a half-hearted glare.

She responded with a grin, pressing her hands together. “I hope you haven’t been overworking yourself, mister! You don’t want to be a bad example to the future Master of Kurain!”

He grumbled in response, too weary to come up with a proper comeback. She giggled, scurrying off to the mini-fridge in the office.

“Leftover chicken soup coming right up!”

“At it again, huh?” Phoenix peered over Maya’s shoulder, trying to see what she was looking at. “All you do is read scrolls these days, it seems. What kind of assistant are you?”

He was only teasing her, but she barely registered his presence. Her nose was almost touching the parchment, her eyes scanning quickly over the foreign characters.

(Well, foreign to me, anyway—Maya probably understands most of it. She has to read it as part of her training to become the Master of Kurain, after all.)

“Mmm,” Maya murmured, clearly not listening or interested in conversation. Phoenix felt a little sting at the brush off, but tried not to let it get to him. He plopped himself onto the couch in the lobby of the office—Maya was borrowing his desk and they had no cases to work on that day—and decided to watch TV.

(Might as well get started on all those Steel Samurai DVDs Maya’s lent me…)

He felt oddly immersed halfway through the first episode when he suddenly heard a loud thumping sound. He glanced over at Maya, thinking she might’ve dropped a book or something, when he saw she was no longer sitting at the desk.

“M-Maya?!” He jumped up immediately, running over the desk and leaning over to find her sprawled on the ground next to her chair. “What happened?”

She merely groaned in response and he hurried around the desk, crouching down next to her. She sat up and put a hand to the side of her head.

“What happened?” Phoenix asked again, feeling slightly reassured that she could at least sit up on her own. “How did you fall?”

Maya sat there for a little longer, blinking dazedly until she seemed to realize what had happened. She suddenly plastered on a giant grin, though the muscles of her face appeared slightly strained and she looked pale. “I slipped, that’s all,” she explained with her vague smirk.

(What the…? That doesn’t make any sense. Something’s wrong, I know it.)

“How can you slip while sitting down?” he questioned incredulously, not believing her for a second. “That’s ridicu—”

“I just need a glass of water and maybe a burger,” she interrupted, getting to her feet and swaying slightly. He stood up as well, watching her closely as she took one step forward. “Then I’ll be good as—”

She pitched forward in mid sentence and his arm flew out right away to catch her. He pulled her close to steady her, and he could feel the heat of her forehead on his arm even through his clothes.

“You have a fever,” he said firmly, as if he were scolding her. “What do you think you’re doing walking around like this?”

“I was sitting,” she argued, still stubborn even in her sick state. “Anyway, it’s not so bad. Just a cold.”

“How long have you felt like this?”

“Um…a week? Or…or maybe not…” She sniffled, closing her eyes and leaning all her weight against him. “I can’t really remember…”

“A week?! You’ve got to be kidding!” That was unbelievable—and how hadn’t he noticed until now? He felt so sorry for her; he knew that she’d been so focused on her studying lately.

“S-sorry,” she mumbled, her eyes still closed. Her eyelashes were dark against her fever-flushed cheeks. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Nick…”

Phoenix sighed, patting her hair gently, trying to be as comforting as he could. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just work on getting you better.”

---

“Comfortable?”

Maya nodded, only her eyes and runny nose visible above the blanket. He’d set up a makeshift bed for her on the couch and a bowl of chicken soup was cooking in the microwave. He managed to dig up a bottle of Coldkiller X in the mess in one of his drawers and she’d taken a tablet with a glass of water. He couldn’t find a thermometer in the office, but figured that her temperature had to be at least a hundred degrees.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked, and she muttered something in reply, but when he told her he hadn’t her heard her, she merely shook her head and said she was fine.

(It sounded a lot like she said “just you” the first time…but I must be imagining things…)

Suddenly she sat up and waved him off when he warned her not to overexert herself. “Come sit with me,” she said, patting the cushion next to her invitingly. “Let’s watch some TV—you were in the middle of Steel Samurai, right?”

“I don’t know, Maya…” he said doubtfully, but sighed and sat down when she gave him an imploring look. “Are you sure you don’t want to lie do—?”

He broke off abruptly when she scooted over and then lay her head down on his leg. Once again, he could feel the heat emanating off her face through the fabric. He swallowed his surprise and decided to change the subject to something more serious.

(I need to get to the bottom of why she collapsed like that.)

“Maya…why did you get so sick?”

She kept her eyes on the TV screen, her voice cheery but forced. “Hm? I don’t know, I guess I got a virus or something. It came on so suddenly. Maybe I caught it the last time I visited Kurain—”

He cut off her rambling, not wanting to beat around the bush. “You’ve been overworking yourself, haven’t you?”

The prolonged silence that followed told him everything he needed to know. Far off somewhere else in the office, he could hear the microwave beeping, signaling that the soup was ready, but he stayed where he was.

“Maya,” he said, his tone growing soft. “Is this about taking over as Master?”

“It’s—” she started, sounding as if she were about to protest, and then exhaled loudly. “Well, kind of. I just…I have a lot I need to do. There are people counting on me. I can’t goof around so much. I need to learn, I need to study. I…I don’t want to let anyone d-down.” Her voice cracked on the last word and he could feel her whole body tense up.

“Maya,” Phoenix breathed, resting one hand gingerly on her shoulder. She didn’t move, her head still resting in his lap. “You’re not going to let anyone down.”

She lifted herself up into a sitting position, twisting so that she was facing him. “How would you know that?” she asked in a trembling whisper. Her lips quivered like she was trying not to cry.

“Because I know that you’re going to always do your best—you’re doing that already,” he answered very seriously, looking her right in the eyes.

“But how do you know, Nick? I-I mean, I’ve studied so much and there’s still tons left to do…” She trailed off and a tear escaped, trickling down the side of her face. “How can I possibly make a good Master? How can you be sure?”

He reached out for her impulsively, pulling her into an embrace. “I don’t know,” he admitted, speaking in a low voice. “But I do know that you can’t be a good Master if you get sick. You’ve got to do things at your own pace, Maya—I know you’ll get there. You have to give yourself a chance.”

Her fingers clutched at the back of shirt as if she were searching for something to cling to. “I’m just s-so worried, Nick,” she gasped as a tiny sob escaped her throat. “I-I don’t know what t-to do anymore.”

“I know. But I’m here, always. If you ever get sick again…I’ll make you soup every time, I promise.”

Maya relaxed her grip on him a little, taking in even breaths. “I…I’d rather have burgers,” she deadpanned, and Phoenix laughed and pulled away, patting her cheek. He got up from the couch and she lay back down against the pillows.

“Well, that’s too bad since your soup’s already made. Maybe next time—though I’d prefer it if you didn’t get sick again.”

---

“Wow! I feel totally refreshed!” Maya announced the next day as she strutted into the office. Her regular color had returned and she moved with renewed strength; she reached her arms above her head in a satisfying stretch. “That chicken soup you made really did the trick, Nick!” She stopped immediately as soon as she saw him on the couch, curled up with a blanket. “Eh? What are you doing lying down?”

“I think I got sick,” Phoenix moaned, not even opening his eyes to look at her. “I thought I’d be fine when I got here, but then I just had to lie down…”

“Huh?! Seriously? How did that happen? I wonder why you got sick…” She tilted her head to the side in guilty-looking curiosity.

“Yeah, I wonder,” he said, cracking open his eyelids to shoot her a half-hearted glare.

She responded with a grin, pressing her hands together. “I hope you haven’t been overworking yourself, mister! You don’t want to be a bad example to the future Master of Kurain!”

He grumbled in response, too weary to come up with a proper comeback. She giggled, scurrying off to the mini-fridge in the office.

“Leftover chicken soup coming right up!”