"Would you ever kill anyone for someone?"

New recruits were always asked that question. As a joke to be laughed off before you got a chance to answer.

You suppose that maybe you just didn't laugh fast enough. That moment stuck in your mind, where your confusion shone through and you tried to answer before it was drowned out by the laughter of others. But then, you've been reminded more than once that you oftenremember the least important things.

That question continued to reverberate in your mind, making itself known every time you worked. At the office, crime scenes, the courthouse... All linked and perfect triggers for that sort of question to be asked in conversation.

You never really thought about it, as you tend to forget these things easily. It wasn't until you were actually asked that question did you finally attempt to figure out your answer.

And it bothered you.

You found him slumped in the corner of his office. Against the bookshelves you so religiously tidied, blood spatter smeared across pristine, neurotically organised files. It reminded you of a similar incident. But, for that moment, it fled your mind.

In actuality, it only took that moment for your blood to turn cold with dread.

Your fingers could not seem to dial fast enough, clumsily pressing wrong buttons as you contacted an ambulance, the precinct, and anyone else you could.

The wail of sirens not too far off, you automatically pressed your hands against the wound, your fingers searching for a pulse.

Then grey eyes opened slowly and he gave you a weak smirk.

"Sorry for the mess, Detective. And Thank you."

And...

It bothered you

The leads all lead to one possible person. One suspect that was fresh on the minds of everyone in the precinct. A message, lost in translation, had allowed him to escape for a time, and slip through the cracks to vanish completely. He had managed to fly under the radar, escaping the watchful eyes of Lady Justice.

Your blood burned.

You later reflected that the moment you received the autopsy report, was the moment your realised something. And nothing.

And it bothered you.

Tracking down the murderer wasn't easy. He was careful. Very careful. Covering his tracks, not leaving any leads or evidence, even reducing himself to using anuntraceable weapon. It seems he thought of everything.

Almost everything.

He did not factor in the drive of a person who had something ripped away from them. Something Important. It seems his time with Jim had taught him some things. What they'll look for. How they'll think. What they'll do.

But... not how they'd react.

Lady Justice is blind, after all.

He didn't think he'd be found through your universally dumb luck. He didn't think he'd ever see the fury of the Seven Hells burn in a man's eyes as they charged towards him. He didn't think you'd ever finally fire that gun.

…

He didn't think... he had that much blood in him.

...

And it bothered you.

You stood over your mess, feeling oddly hollow. It was already far too late, you suppose.

You didn't care to flee as you heard the sirens get closer and closer, louder and louder until they rang through your mind like fire. You didn't care to mind the look of disbelief on the faces of your workmates and sub ordinates. You didn't resist as they pummelled you to the pavement and slapped you with handcuffs.

Until Maggey started to cry.

And it bothered you.

Blue eyes stare sadly out at you from the other side of the glass. You don't blame him. He did all he could. But, you can't defend those who don't want to be defended, can you?

He looks oddly alone, his assistant refusing to accompany him in a wave of tears and shaky voices. She didn't need to see this.

You stare politely back at him, stupid smirk on your face, and you finally wonder if maybe you've gone mad. The so-called 'doctors' bustle around your chair, and you see the blue eyed man turn away in grief.

Then...

Your smile falters as the needle enters your arm and you see a pair of grey eyes staring at you. Grey eyes. They look so disappointed.

And it bothers y-

"Huh? Who would I kill for?"

"Maya... I don't think that's an appropriate question..."

"Aw, c'mon Nick! It's truth or dare! Geez. It's not like I'm actually asking him to kill someone! I'm just curious!"

"I suppose..."

"Well? Spill it Gumshoe!"

"Heh, well Pal, if it had to be anyone, it would probably be Mr. Edgeworth!"

"Huh?!? Why?"

"Not sure pal. Gut instinct I guess. It never really bothered me."

End