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Published:
2019-08-16
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2024-08-16
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182/?
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Chapter 6

Notes:

18 June 2024 update: This fic first started posting on 16 August 2019, well before AAI2 finally got an official English localization (and, honestly, all despaired of it ever happening at that point). There was, however, what was agreed to be a very good fan translation of the game, complete with clever names.

Which is to say Eustace Winner's fanon name (and only English name when I started this) is Sebastian DeBeste, which is how he is and will always be referred to in this fic.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Mr. Edgeworth!”

Miles startles a bit from his thoughts and looks over to where a young man is waving at him from one of the People’s Park picnic tables, books and papers spread out across its surface. A blue coat with a large gold crest hangs from his shoulders, worn over a white dress shirt and tie with a black vest, different enough from what Miles last saw him wearing that it takes a moment for him to identify his hailer. As he moves closer and the other’s face comes into clearer focus, however, it brings understanding as to why Miles’s mind keeps insisting the youth’s coat should be red. “Prosecutor DeBeste.”

“The same!” The young man beams at him, opens his mouth, then frowns and holds up a finger in ‘one moment.’ As Miles watches in bemusement, Sebastian pulls a small book from a pocket, his prosecutor’s badge catching the light where it’s pinned to his tie, scans a page, then chuffs in annoyance before looking hopefully up at Miles. “Um, a word for greeting, sounds a bit like ‘solutions’?”

“Salutations?”

Sebastian checks what Miles now guesses to be a pocket dictionary and beams again. “Indeed! Salutations, I’m happy to see you!”

“Likewise. You’re looking well.”

“Thank-you! May I ask what brings you back to Los Tokyo?” he adds, gesturing in offer at the bench across from him.

Miles takes a seat, answering, “An old friend of mine recently entered a patch of… unpleasantness. I came to help him get his feet back under him.”

Sebastian’s expression becomes regretful. “Ah, yes, Phoenix Wright, I presume – that was a nasty case, wasn’t it?”

He can actually feel his eyebrows rise. “How in the world-?”

“Um…” the young man actually colours a bit in embarrassment, breaking eye contact, “I looked at some of your old cases, as a deference of what good prosecution looks like, and when I saw he was one of the only people to beat you at trial, I looked into him as well. …was that wrong?”

There is blatant fear of chastisement in Sebastian’s face, tears beading in his eyes, and Miles cannot help but sigh. “While I would not agree that I am a good example, the only thing I believe you have done wrong is use the word ‘deference’ instead of ‘reference.’”

Relief replaces fear, and the pocket dictionary is once again thumbed through before Sebastian nods in agreement. “It was indeed what I meant. Still, only one letter off this time – that’s better than usual! It was an unpleasantness with Mr. Wright, though, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Miles agrees, doing his best to keep his tone neutral.

“Especially since he is innocent of the crime he was accused of.”

Miles feels himself visibly start at this, shock likely leaking into his expression. “And how did you come to that conclusion?”

“Ah-ha!” With a flourish, Sebastian produces his baton, prepared to ‘conduct’ his explanation. “Due to my previous research on both him and yourself, I learned that Mr. Wright is you-” he cuts himself off mid-sentence to check his dictionary, though this time it leads to a triumphant smile as he brandishes his baton once again, “Your esteemed rival, Mr. Edgeworth! A man such as yourself would not stand for his rival to be corrupt, and if he were in the habit of using forged evidence, a prosecutor of your skill would have caught him long before this.

“Furthermore, he has served in trials with far more dire stakes than the one in question, when it would have been much easier to resort to forgery than the tactics he actually used, thus there was no reason for him use it this time. And finally!” both hands are in the air now, moving with a fluid assurance that matches his tone, “A tactic such as forgery requires a great deal of forethought and strategy, and Mr. Wright gives every indication that he’s nowhere near organized enough to ever successfully utilize it, even if he wished to! Es cargo, he is innocent! That is logic!”

Shock effectively hides the wince at Sebastian’s slip-up right at the end of his surprisingly reasonable deduction, along with the pain that this unfortunately educated young man has been able to spot what so many of his seniors seem to have missed or ignored. “…yes, Prosecutor DeBeste, it is indeed.”

Sebastian glows. “Not only that,” he continues, eager to impress, “I know that Prosecutor Gavin also almost certainly had no hand in it.”

“Oh?” Miles knows his tone is colder than Sebastian deserves, but he can’t help it in regards to the man who lost Wright his badge, “What is your logic in this argument, then?”

There is a bit of wilting, but Sebastian neither backs down nor begins to cry. “Circumstantial evidence. Klavier Gavin and I are the same age, Mr. Edgeworth, and we both attended Themis Academy. We knew each other – not just of each other – because every time I got first, he got second. He knew me back then, knows who I was back then… and he doesn’t hold it against me now. He’s one of the only ones who probably doesn’t.” He fingers the uniform blazer on his shoulders, bright against his new black and white. “If he hadn’t decided to study overseas, and if my Pops hadn’t been pulling strings, that coat I used to wear would probably have gone to him, and most of the other awards I got, too. There’s every reason for him to be angry at me and he’s not. Even though he’s the real prodigy of the two of us.”

“Could he not be trying to gain favour or allies…?” Miles counters, more gently than usual, only for the young man to vigourously shake his head in response.

“Klavier’s friendly even when it doesn’t benefactor him, and to everyone. Well, everyone who obeys the law. He even had friends in the defense program back at school, and that hasn’t changed! Though,” he hesitates, baton bent nearly double, “That could be a bit because of his older brother.”

This is news to Miles. “Prosecutor Gavin has a brother?”

“Oh yes!” Sebastian seems to be on steadier ground here, some tension leaving his shoulders, “Kristoph Gavin – he’s a successful defense attorney, and Klavier speaks very highly of him. So perhaps Klavier’s just predisposed to think of defense attorneys as people instead of opponents or enemies. …I still don’t think he was involved any more than Mr. Wright was.”

“Hm,” Miles folds his arms, considering, “Well, we are not in court, so you are entitled to your opinion. However, please do not take offense when I say that I hope you are wrong.”

“What?!” Sebastian’s jaw drops, “But… why?”

“Because if neither the prosecution nor the defense were involved in the forgery, the entire situation becomes much, much uglier and even harder to solve. And I am not above personal bias myself – I would prefer to see this resolved as quickly as possible.”

“Ah,” a nod of understanding, “Yes, I see what you mean. I hope a rift solution is also found.”

“I believe you mean ‘swift’ solution?”

Out comes the pocket dictionary again and Sebastian sighs. “Yes, I do. I’m working on it, but there’s just so many words!”

The conversation having taken a far more serious turn than he’d intended, Miles jumps on the opportunity to change the subject. “What were you working on before I arrived?”

To his surprise, Sebastian colours, then flings himself on top of the books and papers in front of him. “I-! Nothing! I-! That is to say-!” his blustering crumbles before a raised eyebrow and tapping finger, and the young man slumps back into his seat, as red as his old coat. “Our last meeting made me realize how lacking my education was, so I’m trying to make up lost ground in my spare time. But I’m cheating. Again. On porpoise this time.”

“You’re cheating.”

“Yes.”

“At studying.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

Not meeting his gaze, Sebastian slides one of the larger sheets of paper to Miles, tears in his eyes again. When observed it is revealed to contain a pattern of squares and rectangles describing a half-circle, some of which already have legal notes in them. Even after having checked the back of the page, there is nothing apparently untoward about it.

“What am I looking at here?”

Sebastian manages to slump even lower on his bench. “The London Symphony Orchestra. I’m sorry, I’ll stop, I’ll- I’ll take notes properly and-!”

“Prosecutor DeBeste!” Miles cuts him off sharply, “Calm yourself! I have yet to see anything wrong with this situation! If you would please explain what you are doing?”

A few tears slip loose as the boy swallows, and Miles mentally kicks himself, but an explanation is at hand before he can soften his words. “It- it’s a way I used to organized my notes sometimes. I’m bad at lists, struc-” he pauses, checks his dictionary, continues, “Structuring them like an orchestra is so much easier, because it already has all the different sections and rows laid out, and assigning different subjects to different music halls and the like makes it easier to keep track of.” Tears are flowing rather steadily now, and his baton bows in his hands.

“I know it’s wrong, that lists are what I should use, my Pops always told me that this was cheating, but I have so much I need to catch up on, and this is so much easier, and- Mr. Edgeworth? What’s wrong, I-?”

Sebastian stutters to a stop, and Miles realizes that it’s because he himself is shaking with rage. With deep effort he forces himself to still. “I apologize, this- it is not something you have done, I simply did not realize I could be even angrier at your father than I already am.”

Because it seems the boy is not as slow as Miles and everyone else have assumed. Rather, he has been mentally hobbled by the assertion that the way he structures his thoughts is wrong, and no wonder the boy can’t keep his facts straight-!

With another deep breath, Miles refocuses his attention on the young man before him. “Prosecutor DeBeste- Sebastian. I ask you to listen to me very closely.”

The young man nods in mute terror.

“What you are doing is not cheating. Far from it, in fact. The technique you are using sounds like a variation on what is known as a ‘memory palace,’ and it is widely known as a highly effective, efficient tool for memorization that is used by many people.”

Hm, Miles had been under the impression that only Wright’s jaw could drop quite that low, but apparently he was incorrect. “It- it’s not cheating?”

“No.”

“It’s… okay if I keep taking notes and things like this?”

“Given that you seem to have a natural affinity for the technique, I would encourage you to. Many people work very hard to learn how to do this; if it is natural for you to do so, then, by all means, continue.”

Sebastian stares at him for a moment longer, and for a moment is ensconced with an expression of profound relief. Then his face crumples and, to Miles’s horror, he bursts into tears.

“Prosecutor DeBeste-?!”

“I-I-I’m s-sorry,” Sebastian manages to gasp out between sobs, “They w-won’t s-s-s-stop, but I’m so-o h-h-happy, re-e-eally!”

At a loss of what else to do, Miles moves to the other side of the table and stiffly pats the young man on the back until the tears slow and his breathing steadies, then hands him his handkerchief.

“Th-thanks,” Sebastian wipes at his face, then gives him a watery but genuine smile. “That’s never happened before. Usually I only cry when I’m upset or angry.” Then his nose wrinkles, “Ugh, I got my gloves wet. …and I didn’t bring a spare set with me. Bother.” Stripping them off, he begins to gather his things, grumbling to himself a bit as he does so.

“I take it that you will be taking your leave, then?”

“If you don’t mind,” Sebastian gives him an apologetic look, “Wet gloves feel terrible, but it also feels very strange at this point to be without them in public.”

Miles waves a hand in a ‘go ahead’ gesture, stepping back so that the young man has room to rise. “It was good to see you again.”

“Thank-you, you as well! Um,” Sebastian pauses, looking away then back at Miles, “If it’s not too much bother, may I write to you? To ask questions? It’s… a little hard to know who to trust these days, and Gumshoe’s extravagant, but he doesn’t really know the things a prosecutor is meant to, so…?”

…Miles has spent too much time around Wright, and it has weakened him to hopeful expressions. With a sigh, he pulls out his phone and opens the address book application. “Give me your number and I’ll text you my e-mail. Keeping in mind that I won’t be able to help you with active cases unless you go through the appropriate channels-”

“Of course not!” Sebastian interrupts, aghast, “That would be like- cheating! For real cheating! Just… techniques. Acceptable practices, good books of reference, that sort of thing.”

“Then I see no problem with this.” Sebastian’s number slots in right over Kay’s, and Miles sends the message in question, the young man’s phone buzzing somewhere on his person as it is received. Miles nods in satisfaction and gives him a rare intentional smile. “I look forward to following your career, Prosecutor DeBeste.”

This earns him a delighted, “I’ll do my best! Oh!” he shoots a parting smile of his own over one shoulder, “And feel welcome to drop by the Prosecutors’ Office whenever you’re in town – I’m not hard to find. They put me in your old office!”

 

OoOoOoOoO

 

Miles debates with himself on the way back to Wright’s apartment that evening about whether or not he should mention what he has learned about the Gavins. On the one hand, this is potentially useful information that Wright might not have yet. On the other, he has promised to keep his nose out of things for now, and this could be crossing the line.

In the end, he decides to simply put it to Wright as to whether he wants to know or not. “I ran into an acquaintance at the park today – do you remember Prosecutor DeBeste?”

Wright purses his lips, considering, and it’s only because Miles catches his wrist that the man doesn’t tap the spoon he’s been stirring soup with against his mouth. “DeBeste, DeBeste… wasn’t he that kid prosecutor you ended up taking under your wing for a bit – his dad’s the ex-PIC head?”

“I didn’t ‘take him under my wing,’ but otherwise, yes, that’s him.”

“Cool.” Wright nods and refocuses his attention partially on the evening’s meal, “That was a nasty one. And I’m a little annoyed at him.”

“Why in the world would you dislike him, you’ve never met him!”

Wright has the audacity to roll his eyes. “Because a few weeks after you met your seventeen-year-old prosecuting hot-shot, I met another seventeen-year-old prosecuting hot-shot in court, underestimated him, and lost my badge.”

“Ah.” Yes, put that way, he can see why the boy might have negative connotations for Wright. Still, “If it helps, he’s personally come to the conclusion that you’ve been wrongly accused.”

“…okay, yeah, that kinda does.” Wright is quiet for a moment, then turns to him, eyebrows raised. “Wait, why’re you bringing this up? Usually it takes Trucy to get you talking about where you’ve been all day.”

Miles sighs, unable to keep a hand from rising to grip his arm. “Because I inadvertently received some information about Prosecutor Gavin that may or may not be useful to you, and it was through Prosecutor DeBeste that it happened.”

A stillness pervades Wright’s tiny kitchen, and then the man sighs, turning off the stove and running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay, I see the issue here. You going to tell me what happened?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“Might as well – not like you went looking for this, after all.”

“Indeed not.”

“Well, lay it on me.” Wright folds his arms, leaning one hip against the counter as Miles relays what he has learned. At the end he sighs again. “Well that complicates things.”

“Yes.”

Wright begins to pace, hands now uncertain where to rest – hips, face, hair, arms – as he thinks. Finally he lets out a huff of air. “Damn. I was really hoping- but I guess it makes things easier in other ways.”

That comes as a shock. “How?!”

A crooked grin is shot in his direction. “At least this way I don’t have to hate that kid anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still mad as hell at the little glamrocker, but I can live with that. I don’t like hating people; it makes me feel sick.”

“Many sources do indicate it to be a toxic force.”

“How do you-? You know what? Never mind, I don’t want to know.” Wright returns to the stove and turns it back on. “Anyway. So, the rock star has a brother? Maybe I’ll try talking to him.”

Miles does his best to let out the breath he’s been holding discretely. “You think he’ll talk to you?”

“Dunno, worth a shot,” the grin Wright shoots him is realer this time, “Us defense attorneys are trained to believe in people when no one else will, after all. And maybe he’ll be able to give me some info about what was going on over on the prosecution’s side for that trial.”

“Or he’ll feel sorry enough for you that he’ll take you as a pro bono client and clear your name for you,” Miles smirks.

“Ha ha, very funny. We both know that if I was going to get someone to do that I’d ask you.”

Wright is right, of course – that is the basic understanding they’ve already reached.

For some reason, it still makes Miles’s chest feel warmer to hear it.

Notes:

Longer chapter than usual, because I don’t actually write things pre-divided into chapters, and sometimes this results in not having a good chapter break at the appropriate length.

Sebastian’s design change is based on a combination of his admiration for Edgeworth and on how orchestra conductors dress – they usually wear either solid black, or a black suit with white shirt, tie, and sometimes vest. In this universe he’s currently trying to present a more formal, mature image, since he’s got to work to get people to take him seriously now after his disaster of a debut. He also got Edgeworth's old office because literally no one else wanted it (not that he's complaining).

Also, the wonderful alex-r-kingston over on tumblr did a picture of Sebbie's new outfit that basically takes exactly what I was picturing and put it on paper, and it's amazing and you can see it here!

Now featuring a lovely piece of Sebastian and his dictionary by the talented aquamarii over on tumblr as well, as seen here!