The pain of Turnabouts ~ An Ace Attorney Fanfiction

Chapter 6. Fragile

Miles stared at himself in the mirror, a thin, fragile shape that took up little space.  Where was his strength, the armor of indifference he had built over the years?  The only return of his childhood friend - spontaneous, sunny, sweet, with that reassuring way of doing things - had shattered him.  And now he felt multifaceted, broken, naked, too naked.

He wanted to know him, he really wanted to know what he had been doing during those years.  But asking questions meant opening up, giving, and he didn't want to give anything more, because besides, he had nothing to offer.  Wasn't that why he had never replied to his letters?  What an asshole he had been.  But he couldn't change the past.  Miles came back to Phoenix, his face dry and a few strands of hair stuck to his forehead, where he had washed his face to hide the tears.

Phoenix looked at him puzzled then, rummaging in his bag, pulled out a small towel that he handed him
- I can't give this to you but you can use it if you want, he's clean ...-
He refused it, almost blushing.
-I don't need it-  he said.
-Stop being so nice, Wright.  You should disgust me.  Did I just tell you I never replied to your letters although I could and you lend me a towel?  You must be completely crazy! - He observed, as he went back to fill out the forms.

-It would be an immature person not to talk to you anymore since we have to do this job together.  And then Miles, frankly, although I was upset you weren't my only fixed thought for all these years ...- he said putting away the drying.

You were to me, Miles thought, but he didn't say it.  It had been as a distant dream, a desire, can be.  A lost star.

Phoenix was undecided whether to continue the sentence then, looking down, continued.
-even if you got pretty close.-
-About the fact that you are completely crazy? -He asked him, looking at him, taking advantage of the fact that he was looking down at the paper and could not notice it.
He laughed without feeling.
-Also....-

Miles marveled at him for a moment, not wondering why he was so pleased to watch it, focus on the concrete line of his jaw, and once again on his long fingers.
And then, as if a bell had rung inside him, he exclaimed: -Oh, no, Ziska! -
He looked up and pulled the papers out from under his nose before he could object.
-Go.  You've done enough, I'll finish.  And I don't want to hear complaints-
For a moment Miles stood still, his full lips pouting in a pout that seemed to mean something.  Then, without saying anything, he ran out of the room.  It was late, if he felt it.  Why had he lost track of time like that?
Phoenix snorted unhappily.
-He didn't even say hello to me ... A warm greeting, really.  - He would have pouted him next time, even by force.

☆☆☆

Miles found Franziska sitting on the steps of the school, her long legs stretched out on her pavement, between her fingers a harp that she was playing with.
-Where did you go? -She asked him.  -I couldn't find you ... it's been an hour! -
He didn't know what to say.
-I was ... in detention ... let's say.
-In detention?  -
-More or less...-

It was over half an hour before Phoenix could leave and go to work.  Surely he would be home extremely late and he would have to study.  After writing to his mother, he left the papers on the desk and started getting out of school.

Miles walked with his sister, trying to justify himself to her sister.  When they got home, they found Mr. Von Karma waiting for them, nice as ever.  He didn't even like his expression one bit.

****

A few hours later, locked in his room, Miles was shaking.  As expected, his stepfather had beaten him up and ordered him to skip dinner.  He had left him a black eye, and he had now been huddled in the dark room for hours.  He hated the dark, and he knew it.  That's why he left it there.

When Phoenix got home the day could only get worse.  He found his he father at home while he raised his hands to his mother.  She managed to send him away but not without bruising and bruising.  It would have been a problem to go to school the next day.
He thought of Miles.  He didn't like the idea of ​​her seeing him that way but there was no alternative.  Silently, he hoped he wouldn't ask him questions.
He went into the bathroom looking at his swollen face and trying to stem the damage.  He knew tomorrow would be horrible to see and the pain didn't leave him alone even after the painkiller.

While he was alone, Miles clutched his key ring.  He thought of Phoenix, of her secrets, of her kindness.  To her letters.
Why had he used all that meanness?  Why did he want him to hate him, when his letters were the only thing that had kept him alive?
He fell asleep exhausted, dressed as he was.  Franziska came to wake him up.
-Miles ... I brought you some food ...- she told him.
-I don't want any- he said.
-I didn't complain to dad- she assured him.  -Please, Miles ... I didn't want to ...-
-I know- he whispered softly.  -I know it.-
She reached out to his eye.
-Show me- she asked.
-No.-

When he woke up, she Franziska was sleeping in her arms.  The ugly sandwich she had prepared for him with such affection laid on the bedside table: neither of them had touched it.  He shook her gently, and she went into the bathroom to wash and change her clothes.  Meanwhile, the little girl had woken up.
-Miles ... come with me.  I'll give you some makeup, let's fix that awful eye.-

*****

Phoenix didn't even look in the mirror when he put on his uniform.  His father didn't even have the courage to look at him.  But Phoenix, however, made sure that he ate something and that he took his medicine.  Then he grabbed his backpack and headed for school.
When Miles and Frankiska, hand in hand, met Phoenix, they froze.
Ziska whistled.
-Look at your friend, Miles. He's worse than you- she commented, completely tactless, and as direct as ever.  Miles was stiff.
For a moment their eyes meet.
-Well, you'll have fun cataloging the colors of my skin at least- said Phoenix.

Irony, a secret weapon to hide humiliation. Always useful.

Miles didn't know where to look.  The girl took matters into her own hands.  -Phoenix, you have darker skin than ours, but good foundation will cover the bulk of the damage-  she said.  She didn't laugh and didn't ask questions: the behavior of someone who has known pain so many times.  She left it in the hands of her brother.  -Go to the bathroom and do the makeup for him- she ordered. -  You've done it to me many times, you know how to do it.-

Miles didn't protest.  Phoenix gave the girl a grateful look and then followed Miles, wherever he wanted to lead him.