Chapter Text
—if anyone were to see her off... it should be Miles Edgeworth.
Iris opened her eyes.
She stood in an unfamiliar room she had never seen before. She wore clothes that fit her alright, but they looked too close to something a Kurain channeler would wear to be comfortable.
...Ah.
There was a paper note in her hand.
She held it up to her (her?) face.
It read:
Hey, Iris.
It's been awhile.
Feenie's in the next room over. He just won a big case.
We're in the country of Khura'in, but don't worry too much about that, because the only thing he's gonna care about when you walk in there is you.
Love, Maya
PS – I'm channeling you. :)
Iris clapped a hand over her (cousin's) mouth and forcefully shut her eyes. She breathed in; she breathed out; she breathed in; she breathed out.
Feenie.
That was right. She had left him all by himself with a little girl to raise.
She never had seen Miles again, not since that lovely day when they attended the opera.
Idly, Iris wondered how many years had passed. Judging by Maya's outfit, it must have been a while. Not to mention the country. Where even was Khura'in?
Iris shook her head. Maya had told her not to worry about that, and so Iris was going to do just that.
Though the room was strange and large, full of pillars, the doors looked similar enough, and she found her way out. The next room over, Maya had said...
It turned out to be pretty easy to find that room. The oaken doors were ajar, and she could hear cheers and pops of confetti. From her own time as an attorney's assistant, she knew exactly what that sound entailed. A giddy smile sprung across her face.
She stepped through the opening, and she ran.
As different as this foreign courthouse was to the Japanifornian wood and cream, the stairs were the same underfoot, and she knew what those mauve stands at the end of the room were, even if there was a pool(?!) in the middle of the chamber.
And she knew the man in blue who stood at the defense's side—where he had always belonged.
“FEENIE!”
His head flew up from whoever he had been conversing with.
His eyes found hers.
His mouth dropped open.
He pushed the person in front of him away, and he sprinted.
They met in a crash.
His arms locked around her. Iris hid her head in his chest. She heard him crying. She didn't realize she was, too, until she felt the wetness of his vest against her cheek.
Iris sniffled, hard. She wrapped her arms around Feenie's waist. Feenie held her so close, his fingers delicately tracing through her—Maya's—her?—hair. She and Maya had had nearly the same texture and color. Iris could just about believe it was her own. Maya wouldn't fault her for that, would she?
It was a long time before either of them could speak. Despite the din surrounding them, everything had grown muted around her, all but for the warmth and the surety of Feenie's embrace. He lay his chin on her forehead as he stroked her hair, and Iris had a sense that if it was up to him, she would stay there always.
If only it were up to him.
He whispered, “I love you.”
A weak, warm smile stretched across Iris's face. “Even now,” she breathed.
“I never stopped,” he said. He let go of her with one arm to show her the ring adorned on his finger.
Iris whimpered, tucking her head in him again.
To still be loved, and this strongly...
Oh, but how many years had it been? Feenie hadn't allowed Iris to stunt his love for other people, had he? Had—
“MOMMY!”
Iris whipped around. Feenie's arms fell from her. She blinked, and somehow, her smile grew. “TRUCY!”
Behind her, Phoenix sputtered, “TRUCY?”
Her daughter leaped into her arms. Iris could hardly believe how tall the girl had grown—she was almost Iris's own height. (Taller, if you counted her big blue top hat.)
Trucy clutched her, her breathing heavy.
Iris held her and whispered, “You've grown so beautiful, dear.”
Trucy struggled to force her words out. She managed: “I have real props now, Mommy. I do—I do real shows.” She squeezed her tighter, whispered fitfully, “I want you to see them.”
A deep pang traveled through Iris's heart. She hugged Trucy tighter. She wanted to say she would, but she knew better than to make a promise she could no longer keep.
Trucy understood. She laid her head on Iris's shoulder, silent but for the muffled whimpers she let out.
So focused on her daughter, Iris didn't see him at first.
But she heard Feenie's voice. She heard him say, “Come over here.” She heard someone else approach them.
She heard an intake in a voice that she knew.
Her hold relaxed on Trucy. Trucy pulled back.
Iris looked up. She gasped.
Somehow, the one she was most surprised to see was Miles Edgeworth. And yet, there he stood, largely unchanged. His suit was nicer, newer; he wore glasses. Faint smile lines dimpled the corners of his mouth.
His gaze was still soft—so soft—when he beheld her.
When Iris approached him, he stilled. He let out a delayed “oh!” after she wrapped her arms around him and embraced him.
Then his arms took her in, and he held her. He was gentle, even now, gentler than the others had been. But Iris felt the way he clutched her, as if terrified she would melt with any more force.
Iris let out a small laugh. “Hi, Miles,” she whispered.
He didn't say anything, just let out a low, pained breath.
Slowly, Iris released him, stepping back to face the rest of her family fully.
She asked, “How is everything?” knowing as the words left her lips that they wouldn't have enough time to share it all. But at least she could hear a little of it. How Feenie became a lawyer again, for one. Perhaps even how they all had made it to the fanciful country of Khura'in.
Iris was listening to her—her husband express just how much had changed for him as her gaze listed, taking him in in full. It was miraculous just how much he resembled the man she had loved over seven years ago now. Who she still loved. He had to have bought a new suit, since his old one had become material for Trucy's outfit, but it was that same azure. He'd thrown in a vest just to add a little maturity, perhaps. He looked so handsome. Iris couldn't stop smiling.
She noticed it while he was gesticulating, trying to explain one of Trucy's stints at the Wonder Bar.
The ring that glistened on his other finger, on his other hand.
Iris kept her gaze as clandestine as possible as she worked it to the left, toward Miles. He hadn't looked away from her, so she had to be careful not to seem too prying.
But his hands were knitted in front of himself—and there it was, the match to Phoenix's ring, gleaming on his own finger.
Iris couldn't keep it down:
“FINALLY!”
Phoenix startled. Miles, perhaps in premonition, began to blush. At her side, Trucy's head tipped into her hands. She was already laughing.
Iris said, “I was hoping you would figure out that you liked each other. I thought it might be rude if I pushed too hard.”
Immediately, Miles and Phoenix met one another's eyes. Phoenix's smile was sheepish. Miles, bashful.
Feenie spoke first, facing her. “So you did know.”
Iris giggled. “Well, you only talk about him so much. And Miles and I—”
“Yes,” Miles interceded, “we were quite upfront with one another. He is aware, Iris.”
Iris snorted. “How long did it take until you told him?”
Miles pressed his lips together. “Few more years.”
She could do little more than suppress a snicker. Of course it took him a few more years. That seemed to be par for the course with these men.
“Does it...” Phoenix's tone wavered. “Does that bother you? That I—”
“No.” Iris smiled warmly. “Of course not. And I would have been happy had the both of you realized earlier, too.” Her gaze darted between them. “I love you both.” Then settled on Trucy. “And I love you too.”
Trucy was weeping again, silently. She buried her head in Iris's shoulder. Iris wrapped an arm around her, wishing—
wishing.
There were a few things Feenie wanted to make sure she knew. The wedding, firstly. He showed her pictures on his phone from the procession, him and Miles all dressed in white. Lovely. But there were other things he needed her to know, too, harder things. Most of the court had cleared by the time he was ready to tell her about how difficult things had been after her—passage.
It was as one of his assistants reached the double doors at the end of the room and began to close them behind him that Phoenix turned his head toward him. “Hey, Iris.”
She looked. She thought she recognized the man, even years later. “Is that—?”
“Yeah. That's Apollo.”
Iris's mouth hung open.
“It”—Phoenix let out a breath—“It took a lot longer than we would've liked. I wasn't in a good place for awhile. I—I lost a lot of friends. I hurt Maya. I forgot about Apollo. I hurt you, too.” He gently pushed Miles.
“No,” Miles returned, his gaze gentler than Iris had ever seen it. Loving. “I was hurting plenty myself, Phoenix. We're past this.”
Feenie let out a slow breath. Iris saw the pain in his eyes when he glanced toward her again.
Her lips trembled. “I'm sorry.”
Immediately, Feenie and Miles were shaking their heads.
Miles said, “It wasn't your fault you died, Iris.”
Iris's heart—no, no, Maya's heart—sank to the bottom of her chest.
Feenie didn't say anything, just took her and their daughter into his arms. Iris embraced him, laying her head on his chest again, trying not to think about how this might be the last time.
...It was a better send-off than her first, at least. Maya must have decided as much. Iris thought of her cousin thinking of her, struggling to determine if there ever would be a right time to channel Iris. Whether it would give everyone closure or worse.
Iris, though... Iris didn't get any closure.
She shut her eyes, begging herself not to cry.
It was just the truth. It was the terrible luck of her existence. To be loved by so many and yet to belong so far away from them, where they wouldn't be able to reunite with her, not in this lifetime.
When the worst of the pain in her chest had passed, she managed to coax an eye open. In front of her, she saw Miles beginning to reach out to her, hesitating.
She smiled weakly. “Come here, Miles.”
This felt right. This felt like how it should have been, with the people she loved most here. (Even Maya was here.)
Miles's head approached hers. He whispered, so that nobody else would hear:
“I should have come back. I should have known, after I had seen you, that that was where I was supposed to be. Perhaps then—Perhaps then... I would have been there when you needed me most.”
Iris shuddered. She spoke quietly, to keep the sobs out of her tone:
“Please don't talk like that, Miles.”
“I'm sorry,” he breathed. Iris pulled him closer, fighting back the tears even as they spilled down her cheeks.
She needed to be happy with what she had. She'd had such goodness in her life. She needed to be grateful, to share all her joys.
She—
She buried her head in Miles's chest as she waited for the worst of the pain to let her go.
She would return to her husband and her daughter once she could spare them from it.
Iris wrote a message for Maya on the back of her notecard.
She hugged everyone one last time, one by one.
Trucy didn't want to let go. Miles had to coax her, and even then, she was inconsolable.
As he spoke to Trucy in a low tone, Feenie touched her shoulder. Iris held his gaze.
He said, “Don't worry. She's happy she got to see you. It's just hard.”
That was when the tears beaded in his gaze let fall.
Iris stiffened. “I-I—”
Phoenix cupped her cheek, gazed fiercely into her, and cut her off.
Iris whimpered into his mouth, forcing her eyes shut. Feenie's thumb stroked her cheek as he kissed her. His breaths were soft, slight.
Funny, how without speaking, she could feel how much he still adored her.
Iris—
Iris chose to pull back first. One of them had to.
She met her husband's tear-stained eyes, and she said, “I love you.”
Phoenix shuddered. “Iris, I—P-Please don't—”
“Feenie.” She smiled gently. “Keep being happy, okay?”
Soon, Maya will open her pocket, and she will find a familiar script she hadn't seen in years decorating the note she had jotted down a few scant hours ago.
Thank you, Maya.
I would like to see you and Pearl too, one day. I understand you never had a chance to properly say goodbye.
After, I hope you will all be ready to move past me.
I love you.
Iris