More practice writing of characters, before I do a major AA piece.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Ace Attorney.

Miles Edgeworth liked to think he was reasonably up to date on any workplace rumors. He wasn't a shameless gossip like the Paynes, always talking to others like their newest prosecutor, nor was he incapable of keeping a secret, like Gumshoe. He didn't need to speak with everyone in the building (especially not about topics unrelated to their work) to be aware of the latest story.

So why was it that Franziska, who had been out of the country, knew this, and not him?

"Have you kept your foolish head so buried in the sand that you were not aware?!"

From over the phone line, she cracked her whip.

"I've simply been, busy."

"Do not accuse me of getting distracted on the job Miles Edgeworth! I whipped the information out of Scruffy on our way from the airport! Meanwhile, you and your Ph-"

Mercifully, someone ran into Edgeworth before he could get another reprimand. His phone clattered to the ground, and the man in uniform fell down the front steps of the office. He sprung back almost immediately, brushing off his painful collision like it was nothing. He began to race up the stairs once more, taking them two at a time. Had Edgeworth not recognized the emblem of Zheng Fa on his clothes, the canine howl he made would have given away who he was working for.

"Were you not one of Lang's men?"

"Yessir," he stopped sharply, straightening his spine and giving a salute. "I'm here to for Shifu and the scary- Prosecutor Von Karma! Apparently we were able to dig up blueprints for the Debeste house-"

"So Lang knows too..."

"Why would Lang need the blueprints?"

"We're helping investigate Sir," he sniffled, and wiped a tear from his eye. "It's just like old times!"

Then he ran off, wailing about, "needing to help Shifu" before Edgeworth could ask questions. Feeling more exasperated than ever, he resumed his walk down the steps. Both Franziska and Lang were supposed to be out of the country, yet they were aware. He'd heard Payne and Gavin discussing it in the break room- which was why he had brought it up to Franziska in the first place. Gumshoe was evidently aware too, as Franziska had found out from him.

"Care for a Samurai Dog?" A simple food vendor cheerily asked him. "Before you go to investigate the Debeste residence?"

"Him too?!"

"Miss Faraday happened to be on the phone when she bought one," he said, the corners of his mustache twitching as he tried to conceal a smile. "She's a regular."

"I'm fine thank-you," he stiffly replied.

When Edgeworth thought to turn around to question the vendor, he had already disappeared.

This left him infinitely more annoyed than he was in the first place. It was one thing if Gumshoe, Franziska, Lang, all of his men, the Paynes, Ema Skye, Gavin, the janitor, and the secretary who had been recently been promoted to the front desk of the office were in on the news. But the simple food vendor?!

That was all the push he needed to decide that yes, he should call Sebastian.

The decision was not quite instantaneous as one might have thought. It took brushing all the fallen leaves off his windshield, and picking Pess up from the groomer's before he could finally come to the conclusion that yes, he would talk to Sebastian. He was already in the area, so he wound up pulling over, and calling from his cellphone.

Pess took the car stopping as a sign to try clambering around. He attempted to keep the dog from jumping into the driver's seat with him, a two-handed job. He ended up putting the call on speaker so he could deal with her.

The phone rung. Once, twice... He picked up on the third.

"H-hello? Mister Edgeworth?"

"Speaking."

He didn't know what to say in this kind of situation! What would make sense?! He instantly regretted his decision.

"Ah, you're on speaker right now."

"The same applies to you."

Silence.

Pess chose to give the screen of his phone a lick. It evidently delicious enough to warrant a second. Or perhaps she was mad at him for sending her to the groomer's? Well they had agreed on getting her the puppy-ears, rather than the sport cut, and there was no negotiation on the matter! He gave her a light shove, into the passenger's seat.

Still silence. It was Sebastian who chose to speak up.

"Uh, is there something wrong?"

"No. I simply-"

"I simply?" A distant voice asked. "Sebastian, is that Mister Edgeworth on the other line?"

There was a sudden scuffling noise, and he could hear someone's footsteps pounding on the ground.

"Yeah, he uh, called me Kay."

"He called you? I can't even get him to reply to my texts within a week!"

Pess, recognizing the sound of Kay's voice, barked. From the other end of the line, Kay sucked in a large, gasping breath. Edgeworth could practically see her chest swelling up, and her face turning a pink that could rival her shirt.

"Is that who I think it is?!" Kay's voice rose to a high pitch, her tone becoming saccharine. "It's a puppy dog! Hi Puppy! How are you?! I haven't seen you in a while now! Have you been good for Mister Edgeworth?! Did you get any treats today?! I'll bet you got lots of them, didn't you?! Were you-"

Just as excited as Kay, Pess looked around in apparent confusion, trying to find the source of her voice. Her tail was wagging a mile a minute, and he could not hope to calm her down now that Kay had riled her up.

"Sebastian, could you please take the phone off speaker?"

"Sorry Mister Edgeworth I'll-"

"What are you doing, calling here anyway?" Kay demanded, Pess momentarily forgotten.

"What are you doing there?"

Tutelage under Manfred Von Karma. Years of schooling. An even longer time working as a prosecutor. Why was that of all things the response he had come up with?

The longer he spent on the line, the stronger his desire to hang up became.

But he'd heard of the trouble that Blaise had caused in prison for everyone. In solitary confinement, in the interrogation room, in court, during his additional sentencing, appeals, clemency pleas, and eventual death.

His own mentor had chosen to speed the process up. Blaise, on the other hand, had dragged things out. He confessed to crimes committed across the borders of states and countries, attempting to be extradited to a place where capital punishment was banned. When that failed, he requested to be executed by firing squad, the most difficult and unreasonable method to employ. The occurrences that lead up to his eventual death were all like this: ridiculous fights to gain more time. Only some of them worked, but they were all a hassle. No. Hassle was not the right word that could be used to describe what Sebastian had gone through.

"I want to help you."

If only he possessed half of that man's ability to vocalize his opinions. Then he wouldn't have been caught up in this situation. But he didn't know how to make himself say the words. They seized the breath in his throat, and tied his tongue into knots. Perhaps, part of it was that he dreaded the idea of not being needed? Was his help not wanted? Why else was it that everyone under the sun but him was aware of the situation?

"I'm here to help Sebastian pack up his house! You should come join us! Help us keep track of some of this stuff! Oh, and bring Pess! Ok? See you soon Puppy!"

Click!

And just like that, he had been invited to tag along.

The house was conspicuous by its normality. He'd no time to dwell upon the finer details the first time he had come there. Now, he had the opportunity to take it all in. For a family that had prided themselves in being better than everyone else, it was strange to think that did not extend to their home. It was a house on the larger side, built of tan brick, and located in the suburbs. The only thing which stuck out about it was the nameplate on the door, and that it was at the end of a cul-de-sac, giving it a bigger yard than the others.

The grass looked like it had been meticulously cared for, until recently. It was green, in contrast to the varying yellow-browns of the other lawns, and a tad on the long side. Not a single fallen leaf dared to rest upon the ground. There was no garden so to speak of, just a few coniferous hedges. They stretched along the side of the garage, to where the front door was, and grew squat, underneath a large window to the other side of the door.

Pess bounded around excitedly, sniffing a nearby tree, and pawing at the leaves in the gutter, before eventually sidling up to him. He clipped on her leash before she could decide to wander anywhere else. His hand wavered over the doorbell only briefly before he chose to press it.

Many sets of feet ran towards the door. Edgeworth took a careful step back- just in case.

It was one of Lang's men who answered the door, but the man himself, Kay, Gumshoe, and Sebastian were all behind him. John Marsh nonchalantly walked up as well before scoffing, and turning around. A garbled jumble of greetings met him.

"Mister Edgeworth-"

"Prosecutor Edgeworth-"

"Edgey?! you're the prosecutor I keep hearing abo-"

"Is that a dog?!"

"Sir!"

They stepped back, to admit him into the house.

"T-thanks for coming Mister Edgeworth!"

Sebastian looked tired, but the sincerity in his voice made up for that.

"Now things will go by even faster!" Kay proclaimed, stooping down to scratch Pess' ears. "Isn't that right Puppy? Isn't that-"

"I only asked Kay for help originally," Sebastian sheepishly explained to him. "And I told Justine I would be cleaning out the place. Kay wound up telling Gumshoe, who got whipped by Franziska into speaking-"

"I was there when that happened," Lang chimed in.

"Mom made me help out."

He was inwardly relieved with the explanation, but settled with a small nod of understanding instead. Most of the others went back to doing the jobs they had been assigned. As he passed by, Lang clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"S' good to see you again," he said, although his eyes remained entirely focused upon Pess.

"She's trained to detect discrepancies at a crime scene, if you're interested in-"

Lang snatched the leash from his hands before he could even finish his offer. Now free of dog, he let Sebastian and Kay lead him around the house. It was a quick tour, to familiarize him with the area, and they gave him a rundown of the situation at the same time.

"I moved out all of my stuff a long time ago. Now it's just his that we have to keep track of. We've split up into two main teams."

"Team Wolf and Team Crow!" Kay chimed in.

"Lang and the officers he picked are looking through all of Blaise's old files, and searching for any secrets in the house."

"You'd be surprised at how many we've found already!"

"I thought I knew where he kept most important things hidden, but we keep finding new hiding spots in the walls and under the floor and stuff."

"It must be eerie to discover such things in a house you thought you knew well."

They came to the garage, which had been mostly cleared out. Bits of metal, plastic, and glass were strewn across the concrete floor. Two officers were working to sweep the mess into piles, while another was on a ladder, checking the rafters for something. It took a moment for him to register that the twisted heap of parts was once Blaise's bike. Edgeworth turned to Kay and Sebastian for an explanation.

"Uh, y'see the slush- sledgehammer on the wall over there?" Sebastian asked, clearly resisting the urge to smile. "I was taking it down, and may have underestimated its weight, so it may have accidentally swung into the bike. Multiple times."

"John and I helped!"

The only thing he trusted to say with a straight face was, "that must have made quite the disturbance."

They resumed walking a familiar path: into the house, shortly along a hallway, past a storage closet...

"We're saving t-that for last," Sebastian had commented as they passed by.

They went down a short flight of stairs, and came to the basement. It consisted of a large, open space. Three smaller rooms, were to the side. One bathroom, one a split of laundry and utilities, and one which he did not know the purpose of. The lights were not on in the basement, because the large sliding door at the end of the room provided all the natural light they could need. Because of that, he could not see much of the darkened side room. A large TV, couch, and coffee table sat to one side of the room, while a bar rested on the other. This was Kay went, sitting on one of the stools and spinning around.

"We were counting all this when you called."

She pointed to all of the different bottles. The ones on the counter were dry. Presumably poured down the drain, judging by the sharp smell which emanated from the sink.

"It's all been opened, so it's pretty much worthless."

"Fool's gold, the enemy of thieves everywhere," sighed Kay, twisting a cap off the nearest bottle and emptying its contents.

"If you could take over list-making, that would make things go by a lot faster. I-I mean, if you'd be ok with-"

"Of course," he swiftly replied.

They began to organize everything. He would take a bottle from the shelf, write down the name, and hand it off to Kay. She would then empty it, while Sebastian placed it in a box already filled with them.

"How have... things been?"

"Ah, alright," he stopped working for a moment, to fiddle with his gloves. "Like I said earlier, I moved all of my stuff, and other personal things, out a long time ago. Now it's mostly his which needs to be tossed."

"Have you found any..."

"Incriminating things?" Sebastian asked. "Lots. Lots more than the police originally says- seized during their investigations. I thought I was being paranoid at first, but evidence keeps turning up."

"Luckily, Sebastian has a great thief to steal that negative attitude!"

"And other things," he retorted, a smile returning to his face.

"Hey! I'll have you know that I have been resisting the call of the Yatagarasu this entire time! It's in my blood! It's rushing through my veins! And yet I ignore the great power which begs me to raid the house for loot!"

The conversation gave away to the two of them bantering. Something about "financing for wifi connection," and "the crushing burden of student loans." Words flowed easily between them, and Sebastian started to look less tense. Listening to them hadn't made Edgeworth feel any younger, so he partly tuned them out. His eyes strayed from his work now, taking in more of the room.

One of the most striking things about the place was the walls, for they were a mess. There were two rectangular sections which had been cut out in the basement, exposing the insulation and framing of the house. Wires poked out in places, like the arteries of a living creature. He assumed that the walls had been sounded out in the basement, and whatever was hiding inside had been removed. Besides that, there were still many nails and screws that jutted out of the surface. Something, no, many things had been hung on the wall at one point, judging by that. But they had been removed, leaving the room almost barren in appearance.

His thoughts then wandered over to the backyard. The house was built on a hill to some extent, which explained why the basement was not totally underground. Outside, wooden steps lead upwards, to the first floor no doubt. Like the front, there was no garden, but the grass looked like it had been maintained until recently. There was also a swimming pool, which took up most of the space. It was in need of a cleaning. Even from his spot at the bar, he could see the mixture of vibrant autumn leaves floating on the calm water's surface.

"Tell Mister Edgeworth the story behind the swimming pool! He'll love it!"

"Huh? Oh, ok."

Sebastian stopped his work momentarily, and turned towards the back doors.

"We didn't always have a pool. But one time P-P- Blaise went out on a business trip. Then one of his friends showed up while I was watching the house, and told me he'd ordered a swimming pool. I was only young at the time, I couldn't really do anything about it. He went ahead and had it installed. And so, the only time I ever saw him speechless, ah, before you came along Mister Edgeworth, was when he came home and saw the Chief of Police swimming in the backyard. He wasn't even mad at me. He just, couldn't speak."

"Who wound up paying for it?"

"Now that I think about it, that's probably part of why he didn't get mad," he responded, speculatively.

"But who paid for it?" Kay echoed.

"Another one of his coworkers. Manfred Von Karma."

Edgeworth had some reservations about the truthfulness of the tale, but he could not help but recall a strange occasion. They had been eating breakfast, Franziska sneaking "healthy" things on her plate to his own, when his mentor had received a strange bill. And been very angry after reading its contents.

He forbore to comment on the story, and pointed out they had finished their task.

Astonished, Sebastian said, "wow! That really went by fast!"

"I told you asking more people would help!"

"I didn't mean the entire Prosecutor's Office, and all of Themis."

"Themis too?!"

Kay clearly knew what he was thinking, because she smugly replied, "everyone under the sun but you, Mister Edgeworth."

"Ngggh! And why... might... that be?"

"You're always up to date on the office rumors."

A look that could kill was not enough to stop Kay from laughing at his expense. He chose to take the high road, by saying nothing, and instead helped a struggling Sebastian with the crate of bottles. Kay joined in, making the burden easier. They began an awkward shuffle towards the sliding door. When they came to a stop, Sebastian let go, to fumble with the locks. All of a sudden, Kay let go, to help Sebastian unstick the door. He was left, buckling under the enormous weight of the bottles. The box swayed precariously, and glass clinked together in warning.

His struggles were momentarily forgotten when he caught sight of a room. It was the darkened one from before, whose purpose he could not determine. From his spot close to the entrance, he could now see inside, and understand why the light was not on inside it. There were awards: plaques, and trophies, which glimmered gold in stray sunbeams. There were ribbons, all neatly pressed and framed behind glass. Different medallions, coming in a multitude of colours, were strung up in bunches. There was a glare which reflected off the walls in places.

"Commemorative pictures," he noted, "most likely of Blaise himself. This appears to be part of a trophy room."

The many nails, screws, and hooks which stuck out from every space made more sense now. Sebastian must have taken all the awards down, but he had yet to touch upon that room. Something caught his attention on the floor. A wooden chair, it was more fit for use for a doll than it was an actual person, it was so tiny. He'd only caught a glimpse of the words burned into the back- timeout- when the sliding door suddenly unstuck itself. His focus instantly snapped back to the task at hand, and the numerous bottles which threatened to fall. He staggered outside, and set the box down.

When he turned back to look at the room, the door had been shut. And a tiny latch- which kept the door locked from the inside- had been put in place.

A lump formed in his throat. One which remained as they traded off the basement for checking on the others, stopped Lang and Pess from gorging on dog treats, and traveled upstairs, to the kitchen. Franziska's words pestered him now, he couldn't quite shake them off. He should have been around to do more, come over to help earlier. He should have kept in better contact with him, with everyone really. (He had no difficultly thinking of someone else he should have kept in better contact with.)

He was notoriously bad at communicating with others. Ideas in court were not the same thing, nor did insults constitute as expressing his thoughts- even if that was what he really felt. Something which had been repeated to him often, by W-

He was snapped out of his thoughts at that moment, as well as his affliction, when he realized what he was staring at.

Scantily Clad Lawyers with Ahoges, read the oddly specific title. All over the glossy cover, there were headings printed in lurid colouring. Who is that man behind the curtain? Lotta's latest: just in! Now with ten percent more adorable female co-council! Learn how to make your own attorney's badge with Xin Eohp!

"It's a... using the term lightly... magazine," he thought to himself, "the ahoge in that silhouetted picture of a defense attorney makes me feel strange. I can't help but feel as if I've seen it somewhere before. Could it be-?"

"What are you staring at Mister Ed- Ohmygod! Kay!"

Sebastian did not hesitate to tear the magazine from his hands. He waved it angrily in front of her perfectly composed face.

"I think that's Sebastian's, Mister Edgeworth," she said with a practiced calmness.

"Hah! Your reasoning falls flat, because I don't have any personal things left here! Not that I uh would buy something like that."

"No, your reasoning falls flat! While mine continues to swoop high above on its unclipped wings! For a Yatagarasu never leaves evidence behind at the crime scene!"

"Then I guess you won't mind if I-" Sebastian was about to tear it up, but Kay stopped him.

"It could be important," she explained, purposely ignoring their looks as she tucked it into her bag. "You know, like, evidence or something!"

"The only evidence I'm seeing is that of-" Edgeworth decided not to finish the thought. Even in the privacy of his own head, he didn't want to think about why either of them might own such a magazine.

They'd stopped, to take a break, before they went back to organizing. There was no table in the kitchen, just two stools, resting next to the counter. It was overlooking the backyard, through the windows, it was possible to see the deck, which in turn obscured most of the pool from sight. Another sliding door was to the side.

Like the rest of the house, the kitchen was barren. There were no more personal touches, if they had ever existed in the first place. One couldn't even call it a model of a kitchen, despite how unlivable it seemed. The stone counter tops were clean, not a single chip was visible in their mirror-like surfaces. The tiles were slick, even the grout between them was scrubbed white. But even if the space was clean, it was still missing something. It lacked touches that a house for sale might possess. Without them, whatever "them" was, made it seem especially spartan.

"Has the building always been like this? A neat and simple front, with nothing beneath the surface?"

Well, he had only joined the army of people cleaning it out today. Perhaps, if the clues in the basement were to be believed, the kitchen too had been draped in commemorations and awards. He pictured a house of trophies, of ash trays with still-glowing cigarettes stubbed in them, and the photos of a domineering man sneering from every wall. The image was infinitely more worse than what he was faced with now.

The near-deafening crash was enough to stop that train of thought.

"Sorry about that!"

Sebastian sighed, and shook his head.

"There goes the other chandelier," he turned, to leave the room. "I'd better go check on them."

"I'm not certain whether I should be worried this seems like a regular occurrence."

"Feel free to grab something to eat!" Sebastian called over his shoulder.

That was all the permission Kay needed to slip off the counter and invite herself into the fridge.

"There's some leftover pizza Sebastian and I got last night," she narrated to him. "And we picked up some Chinese for lunch the day before that. I don't think John would be happy if you drank the milk, but there's orange juice! Oh and there are instant noodles in the bottom cupboard if you want-"

"Water will suffice."

"Glasses are in the top cabinet, to the left."

Much to his annoyance, the glasses were not to left. Instead, a flood of things came tumbling out. So much for there not being much in the house! It seemed like everything was stuffed in this one cabinet! The sound of a large amount of boxes, raining down on him was enough to warrant a glance from Kay.

"Just a little further left," she grinned. "You just opened up the avalanche cupboard instead."

"I can tell."

He started to collect the things he had been pelted with. There was a basket, already overflowing, that they seemed to fit in. "They" were boxes. But they were also packages, and containers. As he reached for the basket, he recognized the rattling sound of medication, of pills in a bottle. A medicine cupboard then, stuffed to the brim with over-the-counter things. All except for a single package, and a bottle with a peeling type-print label. Antibiotics. Burn salve.

Instantly, he knew he was intruding too far in someone else's life. The knot which had been in his throat tied itself again. He hurriedly replaced everything before it could be noticed, and retrieved a glass of water.

"No! Bad dog! Give that back!"

There was a second disturbance, which mercifully did not sound like another chandelier being dropped. Above him, he could hear the skittering of paws, and Agent Lang's furious howls. Sebastian, who had just returned, pointedly looked at Kay.

"I just handled the chandelier."

"I'll take care of Pess! She loves me!"

The opportunity to escape was unceremoniously ripped from his hands, much like the magazine from earlier had been. In a position like his own, he would not be able to dance around the issue for very long. Unlike another attorney he knew, stalling was not one of the tactics he frequently used.

"Y'know," he began, reaching for a glass of his own. "When I didn't stop Kay from inviting everyone she knew, I thought I was being paranoid. I was getting way more people to help out than I really needed. I could've told her to tone it down, but I didn't. I guess I was afraid. Of destroying evidence, or messing up again somehow..."

"And you don't consider yourself paranoid anymore?"

In one all-encompassing sweep of his arm, he gestured to the kitchen.

"Just look at how much has been cleaned out. Do you know how many things in here were linked to other crimes? I used to eat breakfast here every morning. I used to follow m-my Ma, around while she was cooking. It's the only memory I still have of her. I practically grew up in an evidence locker, and I never even noticed."

"I wouldn't have thought he would be the type to leave evidence laying around. But that does make any fears you have more understandable. Not that they weren't to begin with," he hastily added.

"He liked trophies," was the all-too simple explanation.

He went silent, choosing to roll the glass between his palms. He wished he hadn't been so quick to drink, for now, he had no way to avoid speaking.

"I'm sorry again that Kay skipped inviting you."

Much to his horror, Sebastian started to apologize. Making amends for something which wasn't even his fault, not that Sebastian knew. How could he realize, when he'd said nothing, and taken so long to get in contact? He was the one who clearly wasn't involved, despite his earlier promises. He was the one Kay had chosen to pass over. And he was the one avoiding the subject he knew had to be addressed.

Of all things, he was attempting to make him feel better! Even thought he was the one who should have been apologizing. No, he needed to. Allowing Sebastian to take the blame for his own problems was wrong, just as wrong as taking credit for awards which weren't his. If he let Sebastian claim he was at fault, then was he really any better than the man who had programmed the response into his son?

"You have nothing to apologize for," he swiftly interrupted. Taking a breath to steady himself, he continued, "it's me who should be doing that."

Brow wrinkling in confusion, he asked, "Mister Edgeworth?"

"I have not... I have not been as supportive as I could have been."

"What? It's fine! You've been busy with prosecutor stuff!"

"That, I do not believe. I know what you have been through. Yet my actions, lack thereof, as of late have not been sufficient. I think you would notice more if there were less of us around to help you."

"Yeah I guess," he admitted. "I went from having no one when needed help to everyone and their dog being there. Literally. You're not very good at communicating, no, especially since communication of ideas is the whole point of being a lawyer, but, it'll be alright."

"It was Franziska who pointed out I should vocalize more. And I recently had someone else tell me I could work on expressing emotions... better."

"But you're working on it?"

"I am."

"Then, could you try to not depend on the latest office rumour to find out what's going on in my life?"

They shared hesitant smiles at that.

"I'll do my best not to."

Fin