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The knock came late at night on a Friday.
Phoenix arrived at the door with hair spikes poking out everywhere. His hands were deep into the pockets of his grey hoodie. The collar of the hoodie dipped down far enough to expose his chest—or, his lack of an undershirt. Edgeworth had on a white button-up shortsleeve and a pair of linen trousers.
Phoenix's eyebrows raised. "Oh..."
"I do hope you're not expecting anything of me," he said. "I'm only here to inform you that we have to leave, tomorrow, and you need to start packing now."
Phoenix tilted his head and leaned in with irriation. "What? For what?"
Edgeworth sighed, crossing his arms and clawing on his bare left bicep. He stopped when it made him wince.
"You said you wished to arrange a jury. I made it happen. But now, you have to come to the courthouse in Sacratokyo."
Phoenix stepped back, leaning against the doorframe.
"...What time?"
"We need to leave by five in the morning."
Phoenix brought his hand up and chewed on his thumbnail.
"But... Trucy has school."
"I know. I also made arrangements for that."
"Arrangements...?"
"I spoke to the prosecutors' office and Detective Gumshoe. The Detective will be picking her up, and if he does send me proof of location at every one of the assigned times, all of them are on call."
"Detective Gumshoe...?" Phoenix echoed. He stared at Edgeworth nervously.
"His salary depends on it."
Phoenix stood still in a moment of contemplation. He began to shrink back into the darkness of the apartment. In his retreat, he stopped once and turned to ask: "are you coming in?"
"...I need to pack, still."
Phoenix's gaze lingered on him. Edgeworth stood slightly leaning to the side, fidgeting.
Phoenix put his hand on the doorknob. "Okay. Tomorrow, just knock on the door really loud when you get here."
"...Yes."
It was still dark out, dawn just barely cracking. The morning air was cold and still as they loaded Phoenix's things into the trunk of Edgeworth's car. The conversation between them was mostly quiet, functional questions: "do you want this here" or "did you bring this". There was not much to be said anymore after the many restless nights they argued and mulled over Phoenix's situation. They finished up rather quickly. Phoenix opened the door and prepared to step into the car.
"Aren't you going to say goodbye?" Edgeworth asked.
"...She was awake when I got up. I said goodbye, and she went back to sleep."
He fidgeted, looking towards the door of his apartment. Edgeworth's brows knit together. It was silent for a moment.
"Are you ready?"
"...Let's go."
They both stepped into the car. Phoenix leaned back into the leather seat and sighed. Edgeworth fussed about with a few more things in the front seat before put his key in the ignition. The car came to life.
"Have you eaten?"
"No..."
Edgeworth sighed and put it in reverse.
They eventually pulled into a pancake diner after five minutes of Phoenix attempting to explain that they had to go to a "road trip vibe restaurant". Edgeworth felt uncomfortable, but it was enough to shut both of them up. They sat on adjacent bar stools. Their waiter brought them both glasses of water, and Phoenix gulped his down the moment she left, earning him a stern look. The pancakes were shockingly good—perfectly buttery, creamy, and thick—which, of course, required Phoenix to down another glass. As they left, he sighed long with satisfaction.
Inside the car, it was quiet, filled only with the subtle blowing of the A/C and the sound of Phoenix loudly sipping on a juicebox.
"...Did you just get that at the diner?" Edgeworth asked.
He swallowed. "No."
"Then... have you had that this whole time?" Phoenix didn't answer. His eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me you've been hiding that in your front pocket."
Phoenix looked out the window and started to tap on the armrest. "Does it really matter?"
Edgeworth's brows furrowed. "You are quite lucky you did not spill that in my car."
He held up the juicebox, tipping it over slightly. "Who says I'm not going to?"
"Wright!"
Edgeworth snatched it from his hand. It was empty.
"You are such a child."
He got back out of the car and stomped off to go throw it away.
They hit the next town a bit earlier than on time. It was dingier than the last—overgrown lots, buildings with visible piss stains, hardly any people. They had no need nor want to stop anywhere, so they didn't—they continued onto the next stretch of nothing.
The trees were neverending. Winding through the terrain with blurs of something always moving at the edge of the road started to make both of them shifty.
"I have to pee," Phoenix blurted. Edgeworth just groaned.
"We have an hour until the next town."
Phoenix fell silent, but his expression was troubled. About thirty seconds later, he opened the glovebox. There was a case of CDs in it—he pulled out one at random and pushed it into the player. It was some kind of jazz. Edgeworth began explaining to him its genre and historical significance. Something about being continent and smooth-flowing... Phoenix felt a greater unrest creeping into him.
Every song that played, Edgeworth had another explanation for him. After three of them, his leg started to jitter. After seven, he started to feel nervous. After twelve, he complained again: "Are we close to the next town? I still have to pee."
"Ah." Edgeworth looked at the GPS. Suddenly, the car came screeching to a stop. Phoenix put his hands against the dashboard, trying not to hit his head on it.
"What was that for?!"
"We missed a turn."
Phoenix groaned. "Are you serious?! Edgeworth!"
He bit his lip. "We will still arrive on time."
"Nnnh...!"
They continued on. The detour had added at least twenty minutes to their time. Phoenix started to squirm. When the CD stopped, he put it back and wouldn't take out another. He stared out the window silently.
"Ughh, I have to go really bad..."
"We only have fourty-five minutes left."
Phoenix chewed on his thumbnail again. "I don't know if I can wait that long."
"You are an adult, Phoenix Wright, you will be fine."
"I-I want to get out."
Edgeworth stared at him incredulously. "I am NOT being seen with you urinating on the side of the road!"
"Then do you at least have a bottle? Something?!"
"No, because I keep my property clean," he shot, "and you're not using my tea canister."
"TeA cAnIstEr," Phoenix echoed, looking out the window. Edgeworth slowly turned towards him.
"You are seriously going to mock me while I am driving this car?"
Phoenix grabbed the center console and turned to face him in dramatic fashion. "Are you seriously going to hold me hostage until I PEE ON IT?"
Edgeworth's foot pressed just a little harder on the gas pedal, and his fists tightened around the steering wheel. "I find it positively just and righteous that you may be forced to wait because YOU did not think to take care of your own bodily functions!"
"YOU haven't even gone once!"
The truthful observation visibly knocked Edgeworth down a peg.
"That's— not— that's because I haven't drunk four liters of water!"
"And maybe, if you HAD, you wouldn't be acting so PISSY!"
"I'M acting pissy?"
Their bickering continued until Edgeworth realized he was going ten over the speed limit, at which point the conversation dissolved into an angry silence. Every passing minute, he squirmed more and more. Both hands ended up cupped over his crotch and his thighs squeezed together.
"Nnnh..." Tears welled in the tips of Phoenix's eyes. He was pressed into the seat like he was trying to escape the gravitational force of his swollen bladder. Occasionally, Edgeworth glanced at him, stone-faced. His eyes turned down to the GPS for a long moment. Then, he squeezed them shut.
"Th-That's it! I can't take it anymore! I need out!"
"Y-You— it's only twenty minutes!"
"Twenty minutes there and another twenty to CLEAN THIS CAR!"
He bit his lip, whining again. Edgeworth was stunned silent and continued to drive, barely even watching the road.
"Seriously, please...!" Phoenix begged, his voice becoming strained.
The cogs in Edgeworth's brain turned. He looked left, then right, then at Phoenix, then back at the road, then at Phoenix, then in the rearview mirror, then at Phoenix once again. He
"Ah-ah-ah— N-No...!"
A wet spot appeared in his lap. He gripped the center console with his left arm and the door armrest with his right, holding on for dear life. He arched his back and pressed his shoulders, head, and rear end into the seat. Edgeworth's eyes widened.
"Phoenix!"
"I can't hold it anymore...!"
The car came screeching to a halt on the side of the road. Edgeworth put the car in park.
"I-It's coming out!"
"Then get out!" Edgeworth urged him, "Go!"
Phoenix's shaky hand hurried to unbuckle the seatbelt. He threw it to the side and burst out of the car, hobbling off the road. Some dripped down the front of his thigh as he unzipped. He was barely ten feet from the car before he stopped and finally began emptying his bladder onto a tree trunk. He let out a long sigh, letting the buildup of tears in his eyes drip down his face.
It took him about fourty seconds to shake off the last drops and return to the car. Edgeworth instantly started it and roared away from the scene of the crime. The silence was so thick between them that either of them could have grabbed it out of the air and held it in the palm of their hand.
Edgeworth kept glancing at the giant dark spot on the front of Phoenix's thigh. He looked up at him and spoke nonchalantly.
"You thinking about getting wet?"
"I'm thinking about smacking the shit out of you."