Only Miles Edgeworth could turn lunch into a competition, Phoenix thought, and it took all of his will power to stop himself from flinging the sushi in the other man's face.

With a begrudging sigh, he accepted the challenge, dipped the nigiri in his own dish of soy, and, with yet another mental shrug as he examined it once more, bit down. It seemed, however, that this type of sushi was not meant for small bites (at least, not while one had a flimsy hold on their chopsticks) because Phoenix's teeth hardly broke the skin of the meat and whatever rice didn't make it into his mouth fell into his beef bowl like a pellet of lead, leaving the meat dangling gracelessly from his lips. His eyes crossed when he tried to look at it, brain working to decipher what just happened.

Embarrassment already prickling beneath his skin, he attempted to save face by shoving the entire thing in his mouth along with a scoop of salvaged rice, eyes downcast as he considered the texture. “Uhmm… chewy,” he noted between gnawing.