AN: This is my first fan-fiction!
Disclaimer: I do not, sadly, own Phoenix Wright or Ace Attorney affiliations. They are dolls in the toy-chest of Capcom; I only take them out to play.
Warnings: Blood, violent implications, character death, mild language issues…
Yep, I've got it all!
No pairings. Maybe Phoenix/Maya if you squint really really hard, but that's pretty intense searching.
Enjoy!
The Torn Picture
He watched gloomily out of the window of the office. Former office. He worked no longer; his glory days... were all but over.
It was quiet - far too quiet. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, longing for a distraction of any kind. It was days like these when he'd step outside in the grayness of speechless solitude, to stroll silently down the sidewalk, staring blankly and distantly at the vacated building that once housed a hamburger joint. His heart would tug painfully with longing at seeing the rundown brick of the place he once visited so often.
He could almost hear a disembodiment of her sweet voice calling his name when such strong memories surfaced again; a calling of one simplistic word: "Nick!"
He closed his eyes in agony at mere thought of her. Maya. Dear Maya. His Maya.
It was days like these when he craved her presence the most. He had Trucy, but most of the time she was either at school or with Apollo.
He loved Trucy... but Maya... had been different.
He'd loved it most when she'd gently take his hand, underneath the defense's bench where no one could see, to offer encouragement. When she'd drag him across the street, every day, to celebrate with burgers and food. When she fretted over him. When she talked nonstop about ridiculous new training methods to test out. When she socialized with everyone because she could. When she'd help steer his turnabout.
And then she'd been taken from him. Forever. As far as he knew... she was dead.
She'd taken Pearls with her when she left - his adorable little Pearls.
Phoenix Wright sighed deeply and dejectedly, sinking lower into the slightly-tattered upholstered chair. What he wouldn't give to see her now - Maya.
He kept their pictures - everyone's - hidden behind those of himself and Trucy together. He'd taken out those hidden pictures, on occasion, to stare into the lost eyes of his best friends. Right in the middle, next to him, would be her - Maya. Not once had he ever told Trucy about those in his past. She didn't even know about the Magatama, nor the Shelley de Killer card Maya had drawn on when she was kidnapped. It was hidden securely in the back of the frame behind another, less inconspicuous photograph. He wouldn't even have the card, if it hadn't been for that prosecutor...
...his best friend...