author's notes: This is my first fanfiction, truth be told. I'm a big fan of Ema Skye and her pairing with that glimmerous fop, and decided to write a fanfiction chronicling Ema's life after Europe. Spoilers for any and all games. I'll try my best to stay in character when the dialogue starts up-- and to tone down my descriptive writing instinct. I've noticed fanfiction tends to be more dialogue-oriented. Or plot-oriented. Or interesting-ness oriented. So if I get boring, tell me! Prologue is very short. Following chapters will be longer, I promise!
warnings: pairings blatantly involved are Klavier&Ema, with references towards others, such as Gumshoe&Maggey. This is all coming later though, I suppose. I think the "omg I don't own the characters" disclaimers at the beginning of fanfiction are a bit odd, so I won't bother with those.
thanks for reading!
-- the prosecution rests
Prologue
The plane landed roughly, shaking the rows of seated passengers and rattling the overhead baggage. Those stuck in the back found themselves even more cramped than usual as they awaited to disembark after a flight much too long for any normal person to cope with.
"Here at YouFly airlines, we'd like to be the first to welcome you to Los Angeles, or wherever your final destination will be. For connecting flight information…"
With a groan, Ema Skye unbuckled her seatbelt and stood shakily, forcing her eyes to stay open against the relentless jetlag assault. She peered out the small plane window through rose-tinted sunglasses, trying to take in as much of the runway and airport as she could before walking down the long aisle to the exist.
Home.
Something about seeing the Los Angeles International Airport again shook her up terribly. Fiddling with a piece of hair dangling in front of her face, Ema felt so preoccupied by everything about being back. The last time she had been in America was over eight years ago, and the weight of return hung over her like her own personal rain cloud.
And yet, despite the worry, the anxiety, and the fact that she hadn't seen a familiar face in years, a thrill of excitement coursed though her veins as she trekked through the airport and retrieved her bags.
Sis. Mr. Wright. Mr. Edgeworth!
Hailing a cab proved easy, and as she found herself rushing towards the city limits, Ema was once again reminded of why she was back. Studying abroad for so many years had trained her for this: her purpose. The interview is in a week, she thought, knuckles whitening as she tightened her grip on the taxi door handle. And the proficiency test! I'm just a few steps away from science—real science!
It was about a half an hour's ride from the airport to her new apartment. One bedroom, nothing to write home about in terms of square footage, but it was hers all the same. She set her things down, glancing around at the stark lack of furnishing, and rushed to the window to stare down five floors to the streets below.
I'm back.