Don't own Phoenix Wright.
The rain had surprised them in the middle of their afternoon walk. Water was pouring down their backs and drenching their expensive suits.
Miles glanced at his mentor. The old man was rubbing his right shoulder with a grim expression on his face. He always did that when it was raining.
"Sir?" Miles asked.
"Your shoulder. Does it hurt?"
Von Karma turned to look at Miles. It made the boy feel uncomfortable. As if his mentor was blaming him for the ache. He resisted the urge to turn his eyes away from the man's accusing glare.
"Yes, it does."