#even the narumitsus provided they recognize that not every post was made for them
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Obsessed with the dynamic (not romantic, not platonic, but a secret third thing--both and yet neither) between two characters who knew and cared about each deeply years ago when they were both younger and life was much less complicated.
But then, tragic, transformative circumstances separated them. Assuming that this separation was certainly permanent, because how could it not be?
And yet, somehow finding each other again years later, and sometimes they aren't sure whether the reunion that they once longed for with every fiber of their beings is a blessing, a curse, a joke, or a punishment.
Because they've both changed in the intervening years--largely because of the hellish circumstances that caused their separation. They've both changed completely and irrevocably, even if one of them has changed much more noticeably and dramatically than the other to the point of seeming a complete stranger. It is about leaning to see and appreciate all the things that have changed about the other and all the things that have not changed. It's about learning to reconcile beloved, often rose-tinted memories with the complex, yet-equally-compelling reality of the person those memories are about.
#it's the very particular sensation of loving someone who is both recognizably your beloved childhood partner-in-mischief#while also being someone so different (physically; mentally; and/or emotionally) that you can scarcely see their past self in them#and knowing the feeling is mutual#and also knowing that the only person who can truly understand the full extent of the change in you is each other#because their transformation is linked to your own#forged in and through the unique experiences that you shared and the way you were separated#it's the idealized adoration of youthful playmates/pseudo-siblings#transforming into a very different but no less powerful connection in adulthood#that's what really gets me#it's just#*chefs kiss*#estabalena#nahyupollo#jaydick#anyway this post is specifically about estabalena and jaydick#and to a lesser extent apollo/nahyuta#but it doesn't really matter if people tag and respond with other ships#even the narumitsus provided they recognize that not every post was made for them#it goes double for jaydick and estabalena tho since they each have two (2) shared formative and transformative experiences#that few (if any) others can possibly understand#for estabalena; it's the 41 years of suffering in the dark times and the crystal well magic flowing through ones veins#for jaydick; it's the experience of being "Robin' and feeling that the role and all it means was ripped from you too soon#and then it's the experience of dying and your family failing to welcome you back with open arms#because you didn't come back 'right' or quick enough#and that you 'chose' to stay away rather than circumstances forcing the issue#apollo/nahyuta also has the jaydick parallels in terms of bruce and dhurke#it's recognizing that your very human shared father figure failed you in many ways#even as he simultaneously saved you in others#he made you both the best version of yourself while also creating or enabling all of your worst tendencies#just
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car game
Wright hesitates. His eyes jerk from Edgeworth's face to somewhere past his head and back again. His lips tense.
"Thank you, Edgeworth." He says, finally, and Edgeworth stiffens barely. "You... really saved me in there."
Edgeworth's hand automatically grips his elbow- he looks away, unable to meet Wright's gaze. He knows Wright feels compelled to thank him, but he also knows he has damaged their relationship beyond repair- despite returning after a year, despite the overwhelming need to show that man the effect that he has had on the former Demon Prosecutor- to prove himself as a lawyer and as a person in Wright's eyes, because that had been the point of coming back to California, after all- he can never undo the harm he has done.
post aa2-epilogue narumitsu/wrightworth, 1.6k words.
on ao3.
"Mr. Edgeworth!" The young girl- and Edgeworth could have sworn she had been much taller only an hour ago- chirps, smiling. Edgeworth jerks imperceptibly. "You have to come too!"
They've been talking about spending the rest of the night at the Gatewater, Edgeworth recalls, and he shakes himself back into reality. His head is still racing from the adrenaline of the case.
("Wright!" He had shouted, all but rushing up to the man, breathless in his- he is loathe to call it eagerness- to tell him the good news-)
"Ah." He says, looking down at the exuberant young girl. Pearls, if he recalled. "I- If I must, I suppose."
Maya beams at him. He watches Wright embrace her again, Pearls wriggling her way between them, and wonders if he should have not excused himself when Franziska had stormed off, with the convenient excuse of following his sister. Wright is- happy. In the courtroom, perhaps, he is allowed by the bar separating them to stand across from the man, to take his attention and challenge him, but here? Edgeworth has no jurisdiction here. He is made acutely aware of the fact. He may be the man's rival, but Maya and Pearl are the ones who stand beside him when Edgeworth challenges him. This is a happiness that Wright has carved for himself with his own two hands, and something he would lay down his life to protect, and Edgeworth has no right to intervene.
"Mr. Edgeworth," Maya says, sidling up to him as they begin to make their way to the door, "you look a lot better than when I saw you last time."
"Yes, well." Edgeworth replies, eyes flicking down to Maya's warm expression and back to somewhere around his feet. "Last time you saw me, I was in a rather bad way, so it's to be expected."
Maya loops her arm through his, a casual motion that almost makes Edgeworth freeze mid-stride.
"You should have made Franziska stay, she could have come to eat too," Maya continues, seemingly oblivious to the strangeness of her actions, "is it true she's mad at herself right now? And she gave Nick her whip, too."
"A-ah." Edgeworth forces himself to keep walking. "Right. I believe she, too, will experience something of a period of... self-reflection."
Maya smiles. She hums. There's a bounce in her step that seems wholly unnatural for someone who has been kept prisoner and starved by a professional assassin for two days, but of Edgeworth has learned anything in his time working in this particular region's legal system, it is that they Fey family surpasses all expectations and, sometimes, human limits.
Losing himself in thought for a moment, he snorts a quiet laugh. Maya looks up at him in shock.
"You laughed!" She exclaims, her grin somehow widening. "Mr. Edgeworth, you laughed!"
"I-" Edgeworth hurridly schools his expression into something he hopes is neutral. Maya is still pulling him towards the door. Ahead of them, Wright and Pearls are chattering about something, the stress of the case seeming to have lifted from Wright's shoulders with Maya's return.
"You look less scary when you laugh," Maya chuckles, and Edgeworth can't even find it in himself to chastise her. She has, after all, just been rescued from a situation that might have broken anyone else.
He can't even deny her when it turns out that she's been leading them to his car the whole time.
"Nick can't drive," she insists, "and shotgun!"
Edgeworth sighs and unlocks his car. Maya jumps in the passenger side seat, and Wright and Pearls cram into the backseat. His bright red car is filled with the sound of the engine rumbling and the energetic chatter that seems to follow these people, and he refuses to take the vehicle out of park until everyone puts on their seatbelts, and tamps down their protestations with a severe folding of his arms and a furrow of his eyebrows, and tries not to get used to the warm feeling in his chest, because it won't last.
~~~~~~
Edgeworth skids into a space at the Gatewater hotel, slamming on the breaks. Maya whoops. Wright looks about ready to launch himself out of the car.
"Mr. Edgeworth, you're such a good driver!" Pearls offers, beaming, and Edgeworth glances at her in the rearview mirror before inclining his head. Maya, Wright, and Pearls cluster together on the walk to the hotel's entrance, and if it weren't for the Fey's persistent attempts to drag him into conversation, one could mistaken them for two completely different parties who happened to be walking in the same direction.
Wright has not tried to engage him since their conversation at the hotel. Edgeworth can understand why, but that doesn't stop his chest from tightening.
People he recognizes arrive soon after- Gumshoe, who has met them at the hotel in a borrowed patrol car, the photographer with the large hair who Edgeworth remembers from the Gourd Lake case, the wild-looking man in the startlingly orange suit, a handful of others- he watches then approach Wright, watches Maya voraciously eat her first meal in two days, and feels particularly out of place.
"It is time I excused myself," he says, after staying an appropriate amount of time. "I still have some work to do at the Prosecutor's office."
"Aw, what?" Maya exclaims around a mouthful of food, a full plate in her hands. "Mr. Edgeworth, you're leaving already? You haven't even eaten anything!"
"I have to go," Edgeworth repeats, smiling slightly. It's fine if he can only have this. He gathers himself, prepared to leave the glittering warmth of the hall behind, when-
"Wait."
Wright speaks his first words to him of this part of the night.
Edgeworth turns.
"What?" He asks.
Wright hesitates. His eyes jerk from Edgeworth's face to somewhere past his head and back again. His lips tense.
"Thank you, Edgeworth." He says, finally, and Edgeworth stiffens barely. "You... really saved me in there."
Edgeworth's hand automatically grips his elbow- he looks away, unable to meet Wright's gaze. He knows Wright feels compelled to thank him, but he also knows he has damaged their relationship beyond repair- despite returning after a year, despite the overwhelming need to show that man the effect that he has had on the former Demon Prosecutor- to prove himself as a lawyer and as a person in Wright's eyes, because that had been the point of coming back to California, after all- he can never undo the harm he has done. Wright deserves something like this. The unfettered happiness and unquestioning support the Feys can give him. If the only place he can have in Phoenix's life is that of the fearsome rival, he will take it, because he deserves even less.
He wonders, for a moment, what it would have been like if he had not chosen death, that fateful night one year ago.
Maybe they would have drawn closer together, after that case. Maybe now, Wright would think of him as a close companion. A treasured childhood friend. A rival he can trust. A-
No. It's best to let that thought stray no further.
"If anyone should be thanking anyone," he says, instead of saying the thousand things that circle in his head like a pack of foxes chasing their own shadows, "it should be me thanking you. I was only doing my job."
An unreadable expression passes over Wright's face, like a shadow over a sun-soaked field, but after a moment he digs in his pocket and produces- Franziska's whip. He presses it into Edgeworth's hands.
"I mean it," that man says, "if it weren't for you- and for her-"
Edgeworth smiles. He knows what Wright is trying to say, and how Wright is trying to say it, and why he cannot, because Edgeworth has hurt him so badly and he has not recovered. He makes a note to call his sister, who is no doubt on the first plane back to Germany.
"That is the duty of the attorney, Mr. Wright," he replies. "Prosecutors and defense attorneys- our job is to seek the truth. Nothing more."
He takes the whip. He accepts Wright's sentiment.
"I had fun tonight," he says instead of anything else, the words feeling unfamiliar on his tongue. When was the last time he had fun? Three Signal Samurai keychains flash unbidden in his mind. "Now, if you'll excuse me..."
Edgeworth turns away. Whip in hand, he doesn't look back, misses Wright's eyes tracking his red-clad back all the way to the exit of the hall, only looking away when Pearls pulls on his sleeve and points worriedly at Maya, who is choking on a mini-slider.
~~~~~~
That night, Edgeworth pours himself a glass of red wine. He sits at his desk in his home and sips his drink. A red Signal Samurai keychain, carefully repainted where the original color has flaked off, lies coiled to the side of his drink coaster. The light from the streetlamp outside slants into the half-lit room through his window. Pess trots into the study, and whimpers and lays her head in his lap- he scratches her behind the ears, wonders if he should put on a Steel Samurai movie, allows himself to sit in contentment for a moment.
It's not true happiness- never before had he considered true happiness and satisfaction to be different concepts entirely, but now the knowledge sits heavy in his heart like a stone- but it's close enough, and more than he deserves, so he leans back in his chair a little more.
Days to come will provide more opportunities to take Wright on. In every case, Edgeworth resolves, he will prove himself to that man, as many times as it takes.
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