110 Tell Me Lies

“Even if I’m clinging onto you out of hypocrisy and obsession, I can’t let you go. You’ve never been your whole self with me. I thought things will get better if I can just hold onto your empty glances but there’s no room for me in your heart.”

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Maya Fey
The Borscht Bowl Club
January 1, 2026, 7:25 PM

After spending the previous, mostly sleepless night tossing and turning while wallowing in memories of old before finally snatching a few hours of sleep, Maya felt like 2026 had already started out sucking harder than a Hoover. She’d dragged her feet the entire day around Fey Manor, accidentally on purpose waiting until early evening to catch the train down to Los Angeles to go make her promised cameo appearance at Gumshoe’s place to grab Luke and Pearly.

For some reason, which, for the life of her, she could not explain to anybody, including herself, she felt compelled to make a certain drop-in, when she knew a certain somebody would be working his shift at a certain place, before going to see her friends.

Therefore, after suffering the majority of the previous evening as a sympathetic bystander of the actions stemming from unrequited love, the spirit medium truly had no justifiable reason for coming to the Russian bar that night, save for the simple fact that she was possibly a closet masochist who was a glutton for punishment. Yet it was a fact that murderers often attended their victim’s funerals, was it not? So really, was it that difficult to fathom her irrepressible urge to return back to where it had all begun?

For the rest of her life, The Borscht Bowl would always be the place she would mentally associate as the proverbial scene of the crime. It had been seven years ago, in this very establishment, after all, that Phoenix Wright had first publicly, then privately, declared his everlasting love to her. A love which, at the time, she had naively believed, with all her heart, was unshakable, unbreakable, and bulletproof – and yet in the mother of all ironies, he had been the one who’d fired the proverbial bullet to the chest.

I was shot through the heart, and you’re to blame. Nick, you sure as fuck give love a bad name.

Maya smiled gloomily at her own wit and took a sip of her Dead Lawyer drink; hell, if she was going to go nostalgia, she may as well go full-blown! She took a quick gander of her immediate location and surroundings, ensuring she wasn’t too far from any exit doors, in the unlikely occurrence that Phoenix or, God forbid, Iris, spotted her, in which case she’d be forced to make a cowardly mad dash out of there.

In an attempt to remain inconspicuously blended amongst the surprisingly busy masses that evening, the spirit medium had worn her long hair up in a nondescript topknot and had donned on leggings with a black turtleneck cotton sweater under a dark denim jacket. Despite it being nighttime, she’d seriously contemplated wearing sunglasses inside the bar, but had vetoed the idea at the last minute. After all, despite her minor media fame as Master of Kurain, she refused to wear her sunglasses at night, as she was no Corey Hart, and had no desire to resemble some sort of desperate celebrity attempting to be incognito. Instead, she’d opted for minimal makeup and accessories, even forgoing the wearing of her distinctive trademark magatama, to avoid standing out.

It turned out that all of her efforts had been completely in vain, as it was so crowded in the tavern you could barely see your hand in front of your face, never mind anyone else’s!

Oh well. At least this time, I’m properly dressed for the frigid temperature of the place!

Maya’s stop-over game plan had consisted of remaining a safely hidden distance away, downing a quick drink, and having a brief listen to Phoenix’s pianist repertoire. She was admittedly curious to discover if his music skills had expanded at all since she’d last heard them.

At the time, it had seemed like a harmless enough strategy. Admittedly, even after all this time, in her highly emotional state, the actual sight of her ex would gut her surely. However, hearing him play wouldn’t be so bad, would it? From what she remembered, Nick had a very nice voice, so this would be her live musical entertainment for the night; her cultural immersion, if you would.

Maya was in the process of actually trying to convince herself of the validity of this positively ridiculous explanation to justify the fact that she was presently stalking her ex at his workplace, just as Phoenix began to play his next ballad.

There were a couple of breath-halting moments when she heard the first few notes of that song, and her stomach, as well as her heart, gave an unexpected lurch. Of all the songs, in all the world, how could he play that song, the heartless bastard? Did he possess absolutely zero sense of sentiment, whatsoever? Of course, Phoenix had no clue that she was lurking in the crowd, would never expect her to be; except for last night with her fiancé, this was her first trip down to LA since they’d split up. Nevertheless, even though he had since moved on, it was unfathomable for her to comprehend that he could genuinely be so blasé and sing the song he’d personalized for her, in public, as effortlessly and readily, as though it were Mary Had A Little Lamb!

The song continued for another few bars, and Maya clutched her glass so hard, her knuckles turned white, only relaxing when ultimately, Phoenix didn’t go on to sing the accompanying lyrics. Feeling slightly foolish for her unprecedented knee-jerk response, she let out a small sigh of relief when it appeared that he’d had a change of heart, and was opting to play a different song instead.

Nonetheless, she chided herself for her momentary bout of weakness. After all, it was a New Year now. As she’d lain on her sleepless bed last night, she had opted to make several resolutions, and the first one had been to quit being such an emo head case about anything pertaining to Phoenix Wright, and thus cease making a sobbing spectacle of herself, in public and in private!

These affirmations, of course, were much easier to adhere to when her ex-boyfriend wasn’t playing or singing the customized song with which he’d declared his love for her to, in the background!

The new melody was pleasant to hear, and the pianist was familiar with it, even though the spirit medium wasn’t. While she couldn’t tell how on or off-key his singing, or playing, was to the unknown ballad, it was pleasing to the ear and didn’t appear to be overly poignant.

Then the love of her life began to sing. He was as golden-throated as ever; the rich, warm crooning voice that she’d so dearly loved was still present, and everything else around her seemed to fade away as she focused on the lyrics, her brow furrowed in concentration as she listened to the words.

I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier
I know that the clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money for this art
But that’s not the shape of my heart
That’s not the shape, the shape of my heart

While it wasn’t quite a love song… there was still something strangely…melancholic about it…

And if I told you that I loved you
You’d maybe think there’s something wrong
I’m not a man of too many faces
The mask I wear is one

Her head jerked up upon hearing that verse, and inexplicably, tears stung her eyes. What had made her former lover choose to sing this song, with its haunting melody, which could only be described as heartrending sadness personified? This … This was nearly as bad if he had sung “I Would Break Every Law for You,” if not somehow… inexplicably worse!

But those who speak know nothing
And find out to their cost
Like those who curse their luck in too many places
And those who fear a loss

What the hell was going on here?! Phoenix Wright was not a man who was supposed to sound so woebegone about loss! He was supposed to be a man in love – with the fortunate, fair maiden Iris, the woman whom he’d left her for! So why was she, Maya, the one who was feeling such a strong impact by these lyrics, as though he were singing them about her; as if she was the reason that he ‘wore a mask’? Above all, why did she suddenly feel like weeping readily and uncontrollably, until there were no more tears left inside of her?

The song ended, and the diviner set down her drained glass and joined in the applause of the other enthused patrons as her ex finished the song. She closed her eyes against the stinging sensation behind them, clapping her hands so hard they nearly felt sore.

Maya Fey and Tiffany Pearce
The Borscht Bowl Club
January 1, 2026, 7:35 PM

“Mighty dang good crooner, ain’t he?” A familiar voice drawled beside her.

With a start, the village leader looked up and saw Tiffany, the statuesque, bombshell server from that fateful night all those years ago, standing next to her. The scantily clad waitress, still in the same tuxedo booty shorts and cropped ruffled blouse, was standing next to Maya, but facing towards the piano, her empty tray tucked under one tanned, toned arm as she effusively applauded.

“Um, yeah,” the Master mumbled, suddenly feeling very awkward and extremely plain in the scantily clad buxom beauty’s presence. She was also more than a trifle embarrassed, considering everything that had transpired between them the last time she’d seen Tiffany, none of which had been pleasant. “I’d still say that he’s a better singer than a pianist, though.”

“Believe yew me, I’ve been an observer of his ivory tickling skills for quite a spell, and I gotta tell ya, that was mighty fine playin’ – for him, anyway! – but I reckon y’all are entitled to be a music critic, even if some opinions are like assholes, in that some are just louder and smellier than others…”

Tiffany finally turned her head to see whom she’d been trying to make idle chatter with, her blue eyes growing large in surprised recognition as she stared at the raven-haired patron.

“Yew!”

Maya dropped her eyes and discreetly began inching her way towards the nearby back exit. The last thing in the world she needed right now was a scene. Dammit, why hadn’t she worn her camouflaging sunglasses after all?

“Um, yes, it’s me.” She smiled weakly, even though her insides were quivering with trepidation. “Hello, Tiffany, long time, no see.”

“Well, I do declare missy! I haven’t seen ya on these here stompin’ grounds in a coon’s age! But my, my, my, don’t I feel like hostess without the mostest, seeing as how yew know my name and I can’t seem to recollect yers …” Tiffany droned in her Alabamian accent, her pretty face screwed up in concentration as she scanned the recesses of her memory. “Myra, was it?”

“It’s Maya, actually, but hey, close enough. I’ve been called worse! How nice to have you even come even close to remembering me, after all, this time…” the psychic took another small step backward, keeping the nervous grin plastered on her face the entire time as she did so. “Happy New Year, by the way!”

“You must be here to see Nick.” The server’s wide beam bore absolutely no trace of any rancor whatsoever. All of a sudden, her azure orbs widened in alarm and she clapped a scarlet-tipped hand over her plump, glossy lips. “Dawggonnit! I meant Phoenix. I beg yer pardon!”

“It’s not my place to dictate what you address him as.” The brunette regarded the other woman as if she had just sprung a third cantaloupe-sized boob upon her forehead. “You can call him whatever you want, Tiffany.”

“Well, shut my mouth!” The waitress flashed a mega-watt smile and dramatically pretended to wipe the sweat off her brow. “The last time I called him Nick, yew done got yer panties in a bunch! And I ain’t got no axe to grind with yew, so I just don’t want ya flying off the handle on me again! Because I’ve said it before, and I will say it again, I ain’t the kind of hussy to willingly go after another gal’s fella, even if he is still a sight for sore eyes after all this time!”

She flashed one of her trademarked friendly winks.

“As I said, you can call him whatever you like, Tiffany,” Maya repeated dully. She forced a smile upon seeing the bewildered expression on the blonde’s face. “Nick – Phoenix and I, we aren’t together anymore.”

“Well, I’ll be!” Tiffany gasped, one slim hand flying to her pneumatic chest. “Talk about getting caught with yer pants down! I had no inkling…dang it, why did he lie to me then…?” A confused look came into her eyes as she murmured the last bit under her breath, then quickly remembered that she had an audience, and shrugged. “That makes a helluva lot of sense then. I reckon that’s why Mr. Formerly Devilishly Handsome has been looking like 10 miles of bad road lately!”

Au contraire! If that’s true, that doesn’t make any sense! The necromancer exclaimed to herself. Although she had been unable to see Phoenix over the jam-packed roaring din that night, she had assumed that being with the beautiful Iris would constitute him making some sort of effort with his appearance!

“His girlfriend lives kind of far away,” the Kurain head shrugged. “Mayhap he doesn’t feel a need to spruce himself up on days he’s not seeing her, I guess?”

“Hang on one cotton’ pickin’ minute there! So he does have himself a lady friend – just not yew anymore then?! Dang scoundrel! That scallywag’s as windy as a sack full of farts!” The buxom beauty now looked more irritated than surprised, which confused the necromancer slightly. A contemplative look came over her visage. “Huh. Might be trouble in paradise for the lovebirds? How else ya go done explain that sad, but sweet little ditty he just sang?”

So Maya hadn’t been the only have similar thoughts about the song! While evocatively beautiful, the melody had been sung with too much genuinely soulful, lamenting angst to be unnoticeable, but made no sense in the least for a man who’d been reunited with his longtime first love!

“I thought he did,” she responded at last. “Have you made any endeavors to ascertain knowledge of his romantic status? You know, find out if he’s available?”

“Heavens to Betsy! I’ve put countless efforts in with that blasted man over the years, as ya very well know!” Tiffany scowled. “But it ain’t done me no good! He’s completely immune to any of my feminine wiles…hell, there was one time I flat out asked him if he wasn’t a dang fruitcake!”

“You didn’t!” Maya giggled, despite herself. “Tell me, how did he respond?”

“He completely denied being lacy!” The blonde’s scowl deepened. “Then he told me he thought I was beautiful…but he had a soft spot for raven-haired brunettes.”

Iris had obsidian hair the same color as Maya’s. Phoenix had a type, all right!

“I’m assuming he meant women…” the server muttered darkly, obviously still stinging from the unaccustomed rejection. It was understandable. The girl was walking sex on a stick, and undoubtedly had more prospects than she knew what to do with! Phoenix’s refusal of her advances had probably been a major blow to her ego. She caught Maya’s raised eyebrow and shrugged. “I’m just sayin.”

“Say whatever you want about my ex…” the Burger Queen faltered, remembering the many passionate nights she and Phoenix had shared over the years, the memories now making a lump form in her throat as she struggled to utter the next words. “B – but he’s not gay. Trust me on that one.”

That fallen nun is one helluva lucky duck!

Tiffany heard the quiver in Maya’s cadence and regarded her with unmasked sympathy.

“Still, he hasn’t got the sense God gave a goose if he let a fine gal like yew go!”

“Thank you, Tiffany.” The Master smiled sadly. “Regardless, Nick broke up with me because he was in love with someone else … a woman. And a very beautiful one.”

“That takes the cake!” The Southerner exclaimed. “More purdy than yew?”

“She’s my cousin.” The diviner shrugged. “I can’t judge.”

“Yer cousin? Well, I’ll be doggoned! Don’t that just make my ass itch! And here I thought he sang that song just now because he was all broken up about love lost! That lyin, no-good piece of Yankee slime!” The blonde was now fuming with such endearingly loyal ferocity that had it been under any other circumstances, the spirit medium would have cracked up. “He’s slicker’n owl shit! That no-good varmint done left yew for yer own kin? If that don’t beat all! I’m fixin’ to give that low-down snake in the grass a piece of my mind!”

She turned on her heel and started to stomp away but Maya quickly caught up with her.

“Tiffany, wait! Please don’t!” The petite woman pleaded, placing a hand on the bar wench’s arm. “I’m begging you!”

“Why in tarnation would I not, dagnabbit?”  Tiffany demanded. “Gimme one darn tootin’ reason for not giving  egg-suckin’ dawg a piece of my mind?”

“Nick, he doesn’t know I’m here tonight, and I don’t want him to!” Maya cried desperately. “I never intended to interfere with his relationship or his life. The last time we spoke, he told me to go away and get on with my life, and I should have listened! I have no business whatsoever being here!”

Tiffany’s hostile expression softened as she looked down into the psychic’s imploring visage; the sorrowful mocha orbs sparkling with unshed droplets. She sighed in resignation, shook her head, and then gently patted the village leader on the shoulder.

“Cross my heart, missy, my lips are zipped, I swear it. Yer a good gal. I’ll pray for yew.”

“Thank you, Tiffany.” Maya swallowed back her tears and smiled thankfully at the benevolent sexpot whom she’d grossly misjudged so long ago. Tiffany was no man-eating bimbo; she was a fine lady indeed, with a heart of gold to match those curls. “You’re a true Southern Belle, both inside and out. I’m so sorry about my atrocious behavior all those years ago…”

“Let bygones be bygones and forget all about it, missy.” The good-natured waitress waved the apology away. “I already have. But I need to shake a leg now. Tonight I’m busier than a one-armed monkey with two peckers!”

With a final jaunty wink, the waitress headed back into the bar area, leaving a broken but resolute diviner behind in her wake.

She wasn’t going to go to Gumshoe’s – at least, not yet. There was one more pit stop she had to make first! Something was surely amiss here, and she would get to the bottom of it, no matter what the consequences!

Maya took a deep breath to steady herself and headed to the exit door. Then she looked back forlornly over her shoulder one final time, in the general direction of the piano in the corner of the bar.

Happy New Year, my love.

Maya Fey and Iris Hawthorne
Hazakura Temple
January 1, 2026, 9:00 PM

The spirit medium had messaged Pearl on the cab ride back to Kurain, citing that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to make it over to Gumshoe’s that night, due to some last-minute important Master business that she desperately needed to tend to, immediately. Maya also advised her little girl that she and Luke were free to return to the village on their own whenever they wished, but needn’t wait for her arrival.

Thank God, psyche locks cannot be detected over cell phone texts! I hate lying to Pearly, but what choice do I have?

The Master didn’t even bother with any trivialities or small talk as she stormed into the temple and found Iris, in her customary garments, finishing the sweeping of the main entrance. The shrine maiden looked beyond startled when she looked up and saw her cousin standing there, hands-on-hips, and visibly fuming.

“Mystic Maya!” She gasped, her slender fingers fluttering to her parted lips. “This is most unexpected – but of course, it’s wonderful to see somebody from the village besides Mystic Mildred. Happy New Year. If you’ve come to see Sister Bikini, I’m afraid she’s already gone to bed…”

“Happy New Year to you, cousin.” The words sounded downright venomous, even to her Maya’s ears, and Iris cringed upon hearing them.

The village leader took a deep breath to steady her nerves in an attempt to calm herself. She hadn’t realized just how much resentment she still harbored towards the other woman even a year later but knew that she would not get anywhere if she walked in there with her guns blazing.

“The good Sister is not the person who I came here to see at all. It is you whom I seek.”

“Certainly.” Iris turned and leaned the wicker broom against the stone wall, then turned back with a polite but apprehensive smile. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, I suppose I am slightly delayed in congratulating your newly free-bird self on being sprung from jail at last,” Maya drawled, unable to keep the sarcasm from positively dripping off her tongue. “I imagine Nick would’ve been the one behind your early release?”

“Um, yes he was,” Iris answered hesitantly after a brief pause. “Feenie arranged for his friend Prosecutor Edgeworth to take over and put the motion into completion after he …um, you know, was unable to do so himself. He’s so wonderful.”

Holy Custer’s last stand! I was so not prepared to hear Iris start gushing about my ex, ad nauseam! I’d best change the subject of Nick’s praises before I projectile vomit in her general direction!

“Yes, I can certainly see why you would think so,” she replied tightly. “I take it that means things are going pretty well for the two of you?”

“Better than I could’ve ever hoped,” the nun responded with utmost sincerity.

Considering I thought Feenie would hate me forever after what I did, and instead he has offered me his eternal friendship and unconditional trust as well as forgiveness…

“Huh. So I guess that means you’re in touch with him a lot, then?”

“Yes.”

Iris had already decided her best course of action against this not-so-subtle Spanish Inquisition was to keep her replies short and sweet.

If you can broaden the definition of keeping in touch to mean I call him and Feenie calls me back whenever he can, which tends to be on a sporadic basis … but he forewarned me as much.

The diviner arched an eyebrow at the unexpected brief answer, so Iris felt compelled to make an addendum.

“I mean, we’re both very busy people, you know, what with me helping out Sister Bikini with the cabin rentals now, on top of my normal shrine temple duties, and Feenie being a single, hardworking father and all…”

“Relax, I get it, I get it!” Maya subjected the demure woman to a piercing stare as she spoke. “We’re all extremely busy, but surely, he still makes the time to come up and see you?”

“Actually…” Iris hedged. “I invited him and Trucy to come up for Christmas.”

“I – I see.” Maya faltered at this response, and the words came out sounding as flustered as she suddenly felt. “Y-You mean – you’ve met Trucy? Like, in person?”

Iris smiled sweetly at the memory of the magician; oblivious of the unexpected sucker punch to the gut this revelation had caused her cousin, who within six years, hadn’t even had Phoenix’s daughter be made aware of her existence!

“Yes, I have. Such a delightful girl! So pretty, and smart and sweet! Feenie has been doing such a great job raising her.”

The Master closed her eyes for a moment as waves of unexpected pain washed over her. She hadn’t thought that this visit was going to be overall pleasant, but she also hadn’t expected any of the revelations to cause her this level of angst. For all his lies and excuses, she had genuinely believed that Phoenix had had good reasons for never allowing her path to cross with his daughter’s; that even after the whole mess with the social worker had died down, that he generally had been concerned for her reputation with the elders and her overall safety. But obviously, he just hadn’t thought that she had been fit to be seen as the potential mother of his only child. Maya felt her heart constrict with the agony of that realization. A bullet to the chest would have hurt her less at this point.

Anxious for an excuse to look away from the other woman’s benign expression, she reached under her turtleneck and began fidgeting with her magatama, which she had taken out of her purse and refastened in the taxi, en route to the village. As she absently stroked the mystical gemstone with trembling fingers, she was unaware of how the glint of her pink diamond ring twinkled under the bright flames of the surrounding temple torch lamps and caught her cousin’s admiring glimpse.

“Oh, what a ring! That’s just gorgeous!” The nun said warmly. “By the way, cousin, Sister Bikini told me about your engagement! She is so excited and happy for you! I believe it is my turn to wish a most heartfelt congratulations to you.”

“Thank you,” Maya replied numbly. “I’m, er, still getting used to the weight of this thing. Ah, speaking of jewelry, is it a fair assumption that since Nick has allowed you to meet daughter, coupled with your longtime history with him, that the topic of … rings have also come up with you, as well?”

“Truth be told, yes. The subject of rings has been brought up to me.”

Once again, Iris was telling the truth.

Mind you, it was with my enraged half-sister, who threatened to slap me to the moon when she told me about the promise ring Feenie gave to you because he was going to marry you, but that’s neither here nor there.

The shrine maiden anxiously eyed her cousin’s impossible-to-miss magatama.

So far so good! I haven’t lied once.

The spirit medium’s glance followed the direction of her kinswoman’s nervous orbs, and her dark eyes narrowed suspiciously, as she reflexively curled her fingers over the glowing gemstone.

“You really do love him, don’t you?” She asked at last.

“I always have.” Iris met her gaze unflinchingly. “I never stopped.”

“Yes, well, I suppose old feelings die hard.” Maya turned her head away then, unable to withstand the look of unrestricted love in those doe eyes staring back at her another moment. “I suppose he loves you, too?”

Iris stuck with the same response she had given her half-sister nearly a year ago to the same question.

“I – I’d like to think so.”

Unfortunately, the split-second hesitation in her reply caught the Master’s notice, and she raised her face back up, now wearing a look of intense scrutiny.

“You affirmed that you have been in contact with him and that you asked him to come up for Christmas,” the necromancer began slowly, never tearing her piercing eyes from her cousin’s nervous visage. “So tell me… did Nick end up making the trek up here?”

Iris’s eyes widened with panic as her mind frantically groped for a way to give a vague but convincing answer to such a direct question. Maya noticed her uncertainty and her tone grew slightly louder and more accusing.

“Would you prefer if I asked you something less ambiguous, Sister Iris?” She spat, her mocha eyes flashing now. “If he wasn’t up here during the holidays, have you seen Nick recently, at all?”

Iris felt her heartbeat quickening and her breath coming out in shorter rasps at the look of unmistakable, contemptuous loathing in the Kurain master’s eyes, which could no longer be disguised.

“It appears that I am still being too vague. Would you prefer if I spelled it out for you, dear cousin?” Maya took a step forward and leaned closer to the now trembling shrine maiden so that they were nearly nose to nose, incensed dark eyes now boring into the nervous doe orbs. “Have you seen Phoenix Wright in person, even once, since you got out of prison?!”

Iris’s eyes filled with tears, and her lips began to tremble. She had never, ever wanted to betray her former lover, and had always intended to keep her promise to go along with his plan. She’d even prided herself on being successful with Pearl last year. However, it now appeared that lightning wasn’t about to strike twice in the same place with her sister’s slightly more perceptive, and only marginally less volatile, yet equally as fiery guardian.

“Cousin, I – ”

“Holy blast from the past! Maya baby, how long has it been?” A familiar voice suddenly crowed, as though from nowhere. “Happy New Year!”

The next thing the spirit medium knew, she was unexpectedly crushed in the arms of none other than Larry Butz!

The artist swooped down from out of the clear blue, wrapping his old friend in an effusive embrace, rocking them both back and forth with the fervor of his visible delight at seeing her. It was only when Maya began to gasp from lack of air that he slightly released his hold and drew back, his animated eyes bright with affection.

“I don’t think I have laid eyes on you since your 21st birthday!” Larry exclaimed, his happy goofy grin as evident as ever. “Look at you, still as pretty as a picture! How have you been?”

Maya recovered from her surprise long enough to at last greet the man whom she had always felt a wry fondness for, although at this particular moment, she was mentally cursing him for his godawful timing!

“Happy New Year, Larry,” she murmured, her eyes darting back towards Iris, who was discreetly stepping away from the two and slinking back inside the temple. Sighing with resignation, she forced a friendly smile for her ex-boyfriend’s childhood pal and gently pulled out of his suffocating hug. “It’s great to see you. I guess your art tour is finally over?”

“You bet!” Maya was treated to another big goofy grin. “I’m back for good now, baby! And where’s a better place to be, than the very location that first inspired my artistic pursuits?”

“Yes, where better indeed?” The Master agreed. “Well, it’s been great seeing you Larry, but it’s getting late, and it’s a good half-hour walk back to the village, so I’m going to get moving. I’ll see you later. And welcome back.”

With that, she turned and walked away feeling both downtrodden and chagrined about her whole venture to the temple. Iris had not appeared to be lying, this was true, but she was uncertain how things would’ve turned out had it not been for Larry’s all too perfectly timed interruption. It could’ve been her imagination, but she was almost positive that Iris had been struggling for a way to worm her way out of replying to the most important question of all, which had been the last time she had set eyes on Phoenix in the flesh.

Oh well. This was probably a big mistake. I don’t know what I was thinking. What does it matter anymore, anyway?

Larry Butz and Iris Hawthorne
Hazakura Temple
January 1, 2026, 9:20 PM

The minute he had ascertained Maya was out of sight, Larry ran back up the steps of the temple and cupped his hands around his mouth as he directed his shout towards the inner entrance.

“Hey, Iris! The coast is clear! You can come out now!”

Iris cast a furtive glance around as she timidly stepped back outside.

“She’s finally gone!” The nun observed, heaving an enormous sigh of relief, before flashing a grateful smile at the artist. “Oh thank heavens! I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up at that moment Laurice! I owe you one!”

“I returned from Gumshoe’s not too long ago, then I came up here to see you, not knowing you’d have company, so I admit, I kind of hung back in the shadows and was listening to you two for a bit. I didn’t want to interrupt,” Larry confessed, blushing slightly at having been eavesdropping. “I just chose that exact moment to make my presence known, because it seemed like things were getting pretty intense between the two of you!”

“How much did you hear?” Iris stared at the ground, her cheeks reddening.

“Enough to know that Maya still hates your guts and holds you responsible for her breakup with Nick.” Larry jammed his hands in his pockets, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “I mean, I don’t know what to say about that… She’s engaged now! Yeesh! I’d have thought she would’ve gotten past it by now but I guess she’s still holding onto that grudge…”

“Please, Laurice, don’t say anything more,” Iris pleaded while eying him beseechingly. “I cannot bear to hear any sort of disparagement about my cousin! She and Feenie were together for a very long time. I can understand her still being upset, engaged, or not.”

She raised limpid eyes to meet compassionate brown ones.

“I – I know better than anybody that regardless of how much time passes, Feenie is not an easy man to get over.”

“Yeah, Nick’s a lucky man to have such loyal devotion,” Larry mumbled, not looking at her now. “Anyway, I just wanted to wish you a Happy New Year, Iris, and let you know that I’m back, and since Mystic Mildred is now shacked up in my former residence of Heavenly Hall, I’m staying up here at one of the guest cabins for an indeterminate amount of time.”

“It’s nice to have you back,” she said kindly. “I look forward to hearing about the adventures on your art tour all over the world, Laurice.”

“Oh, right.” Larry walked over to the giant stone statue of Mystic Ami situated in the middle of the temple entrance, where he had been lurking in the shadows, and retrieved the canvas, approximately 8 x 10 in size, with a cloth over it, that he’d been hiding behind it. “I, um, I made this for you while I was away. I hope you like it.”

“Um, that’s so nice of you. You really shouldn’t have…” Iris winced inwardly as she recalled the last “artistic endeavor” – when he’d had tried to capture her essence as a cartoon-like, flying stick figure over a burning bridge!

However, as she unwrapped the gift, her astonished orbs widened with surprised pleasure as she uncovered a beautiful portrait likeness of herself, in her shrine maiden garb, but without the hood on her head. Larry had captured her glossy black waves tumbling, long and loose around her shoulders, and Iris’ intricately painted bright eyes and parted lips appeared so lifelike, it looked as if she were about to speak.

Larry was regarding her with nervous anticipation, and her eyes were still round with amazement as she ogled him with awe.

“Oh, Holy Mother, Larry…”

“Do you like it?” He asked shyly.

“I love it,” she breathed. “You’ve come a long way over the years in honing your craft. Your late mentor would be so proud of you.”

“Thank you. It means so much to me to hear you say that.” He swallowed hard. “I was counting the days until I could come back and give this to you in person, instead of just mailing it to you.”

“It’s a very flattering likeness.” Her cheeks were pink. “I don’t know if I am worthy of claiming to be as much of a beauty as you have portrayed me to be in this painting, but I am beyond humbled and grateful for it.”

“Trust me, Iris, you’re more than worthy,” he said gruffly. “I could see your image so clearly in my mind while I was away, I didn’t even need to look at a picture to paint it. That’s how vividly I remembered every feature, every contour of that beautiful face of yours. It took me over two months to do, and about a thousand sketches and drafts because I wanted it to be perfect.”

He jammed his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels.

“H –Happy Birthday, Iris.”

“My goodness!” Her fingers flew to her lips in astonishment. “Y – You remembered that today was my birthday, after all this time? The only one who normally knows my day of birth is Sister Bikini … and even the good sister forgot this year … what with the news of Maya’s engagement and her advancing age and her back acting up tonight…”

“I never forget things that are important, Iris.” His voice was uncharacteristically serious now. “I remembered everything about you while I was away.”

“Thank you so much, Laurice. I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough for this unexpected gesture of kindness.”

“Well, for one thing, please stop calling me by my artist title. I’m not on tour anymore, so I don’t need to use my professional name. I would like it very much if you just call me Larry because that’s who I am. Not even touring around the world could let me escape that underneath all the claim and fame, I’m still Larry Butz.”

“I had no idea that you were trying to run away from him.” She tilted her head to the side and eyed him quizzically. “Nor do I have any idea why you would. I like Larry Butz. I think he’s a really nice guy.”

“A nice guy who’s always finished last with the ladies.” He let out a bitter, humorless laugh. “Who’s gotten dumped by every girlfriend he’s ever had. And who’s always fallen in love with the women he can’t ever have.”

He looked her squarely in the eye.

“Sometimes because they’re not available and other times because they’re in love with my best friends.”

“Are you referring to your crush on Franziska when you kept asking her to pose for your children’s illustration book?” Iris asked in confusion. “I mean, she’s with Miles now but surely you’ve gotten over that by now?”

“I wasn’t talking about Franziska.” Larry shook his head, his intense gaze never wavering from hers. “As you said, that was a crush, and nothing more. In my whole life, I’ve only truly loved once.”

Iris blinked as the meaning of his words sunk in. If he wasn’t talking about best friend Miles, did that mean that he was referring to … Phoenix? Could he possibly mean … her?

“M – me?” She whispered, her hand fluttering to her chest. “I remember you admitted to loving me before, but that was seven years ago…”

“I – I never, ever stopped,” he admitted, his expression tender but sad. “Nick isn’t the only one who is hard to get over, Iris.”

“B – but why me? I am not worthy of such affection!” She burst out, entirely flummoxed. “I come from one of the most powerful psychic families on earth yet despite Sister Bikini’s and Mystic Matilda’s best training efforts this past year, I’m still the only existing, useless Fey without any spiritual power! Moreover, this face of mine … is only a reminder that I am the mirror image of a monstrously evil, serial killer twin sister, who although dead, will never be forgotten by those who I care for. And your best friend was nearly killed because of me!”

“Number one,” Larry replied evenly. “Rome wasn’t built in one day and these things may take time. Don’t throw in the towel on your progress into the spiritual world just yet. It sounds like Bikini and Matilda haven’t given up on you just yet, and neither should you. As for Nick, you were trying to protect him.”

He took a step closer so she could see the veracity in his eyes.

“Spiritual power or no spiritual power, you are the furthest thing from useless to me. Moreover, as for that visage you so loathe, whenever I look at it, all I see is you – the kindest woman I’ve ever met, who genuinely cares about people, and has the most beautiful face, but moreover, most beautiful heart, I’ve ever known.”

Iris stared deeply into Larry’s big, puppy-dog brown orbs, and was touched by the sincerity and unmistakable love she saw there, a love she’d never dreamed she would ever see in another man’s eyes, ever again. It made her want to open her own heart to him and let him know how much his words meant to her.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the goateed man just shook his head and was already turning away from her.

“Forgive me, milady.” He gave her one last, tortured glance, before dropping his gaze to the ground. “I shouldn’t have said any of this. I broke the Bro Code once when I expressed my feelings to you back in the day before I knew that you were Nick’s ex-girlfriend. Nevertheless, I was still guilty of the offense. It’s even worse now since I know not only your past with him, but that you’re back together with him again. Therefore, bearing my soul like this in such a manner, where in the past, may have been pardonable, is now completely inexcusable and unforgivable. A bro never willingly goes after another bro’s girl, Iris.”

“Larry – please. Don’t say that…” She protested weakly, but he shook his head and held up his hand.

“I’m going to ask to you stop right there, Iris. The last thing in the world I need is for you feeling sorry for my pathetic ass.” His expression was morose as he began to slowly shuffle away, too lost in his self-pity to see the liquid beads forming in her eyes. “Because as you told your cousin tonight, you’re in love with my best friend. That’s all that’s important in the end. It doesn’t matter how much I love you, or how I never stopped, and never will.”

His voice broke slightly.

“G – Good night, Iris. Sweet dreams.”

The shrine maiden stared after his dejected, retreating form, feeling completely heavy-hearted. How she yearned to tell Larry how wrong he was, about everything.  How touched she actually was that such a kindhearted, talented, and loving man carried a place for her in his heart; that it did matter how much he loved her. She wanted to cry out that her heart was open to maybe learning to love him back as well – if only things could be different for them.

But alas, they could not, because her hands were tied.

She’d made a binding promise to Feenie, and there was nothing she could do about it now, even if it called for sacrificing her own pursuit of happiness. Iris owed Phoenix Wright the world, and she had given him her honor-bound word. It was her bond, and she would die before she ever went back on it, even if that meant spending the rest of her days alone in that temple, yearning for a chance at a new love that could never be.

“I’m sorry, Larry,” she whispered, the tears that had been welling up in her eyes now trickling down her cheeks. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Fleetwood Mac – Tell Me Lies