The Manny Named Miles

❥ chapter one: it never goes as planned

"Alright, you two, listen up!"

Phoenix and Trucy immediately stood next to one another and straightened their backs. Phoenix threw in a military salute, which was ignored. Miles looked like a commander, with his hands on his hips like that. His expression was gravely serious. It didn't match the frilly apron.

Why hasn't he gotten a less gaudy apron, anyway? Phoenix wondered. Miles ignored his contemplation and pressed on.

"Four days," he began. "We have four days in which to get everything ready for Christmas, and my sister arrives tomorrow. Which means that this house has to sparkle. No dust, no debris, no trash— spotless."

"But we just cleaned up yesterday—"

"SPOTLESS. It's not a negotiation—"

"You keep saying that," Phoenix interrupted. "I mean, it's not like your sister lives here. How much of a perfectionist can she possibly—"

Miles' eyes darkened so suddenly that Phoenix stumbled over his own words in his shock. He looked like he was having traumatic war flashbacks or something, staring at something beyond them.

"You have no idea," Miles said, his voice low and fearful. Phoenix decided not to ask for anything more than that— his quivering jaw said enough.

Phoenix was already wondering if having her over was really such a good idea. The plan had been somewhat last-minute. Franziska had announced that she'd be in the States for three days, all of which she graciously offered to spend at the Wright's. Phoenix quickly learned from reading her text messages over Miles' shoulder that she was...

...She was odd. He simply didn't know any other way to put it.

For one thing, she addressed people by their full names, and this included a man who was more or less her brother. The first of her long messages had begun with Miles Edgeworth! Exclamation point and all. Phoenix knew that she was odd, but he hadn't been able to determine yet if she was scary or not.

"I'll clean my room!" Trucy offered, and Miles patted her on the head.

"That's good. Make sure you clean everything, okay? And get all of your laundry together for me. Your clothes need to be cleaned and ironed."

"Okay!"

The little magician trotted up the stairs, her arms full of smaller versions of the usual cleaning supplies. Phoenix watched her go, and then turned to Miles.

"Franziska's probably not going to see her room."

Miles heaved out an elongated breath.

"I know that. But it's best that she be occupied elsewhere. I'm sure her cleaning skills aren't up to Franziska's standards..."

He trailed off, biting his lip and folding his arms nervously. Phoenix moved forward to wrap him in a gentle embrace. He felt Miles' stiff muscles relax somewhat as he rested his head against his shoulder.

"Alright— this sister of yours. What's got you so anxious about the visit? Is it just that you haven't seen her in a while?"

"Mostly," Miles murmured. "She doesn't know much of anything about what I've been doing for the past few years, and we've yet to breach the subject of her father."

Phoenix rubbed Miles' back and squeezed him a little tighter.

"It'll be okay. You've both had time to heal, and he isn't around anymore. He can't hurt the two of you if you refuse to let him."