Conviction
Category: Drama
Characters: Phoenix, Maya
Time: Game 2, Case #2
Summary: He objected to impossibilities.
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Disclaimer: I don't own the Phoenix Wright games.
Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed!! Your reviews were all so helpful :) ! I really appreciate all your comments. Again, thank you very much!
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His response had been immediate. Of course he would break the door down! He started forward, ignoring the incredulous look he received from Lotta, pausing only to inform Morgan that her oh-so-precious door was about to be broken down in order to save his very precious assistant.
Later, he would remember that Maya was Morgan's niece and realize that his earlier statement should have said that Morgan's oh-so-precious door was about to be broken down in order to save her oh-so-precious niece, but in the days to come he would realize that the statement would truly have been as sarcastic as it sounded.
It would matter then but not now. Nothing mattered now but the wooden door which refused to budge. He took a couple steps back and, ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder, lunged forward again.
The door shuddered; the lock rattled, but neither showed any sign of giving. He stepped away yet again, clenching and unclenching his fist to try to dissipate the pain that now radiated up and down his entire arm.
Behind him Lotta was shrieking something about it being impossible to break down the door—that it was just too much for him to handle on his own, and Morgan was watching him with faint concern. Something else drifted below the surface of her expression, but he did not pause long enough consider what it might mean. All that mattered was that the door was still closed and that she was still inside, possibly hurt, possibly—
Before he could even finish the thought his feet had unconsciously carried him forward, crashing him into the door. The door groaned, heavy with the weight of rules and traditions—ancient edicts brought forth into the modern day and faithfully upheld by the scores of followers since. Some small part of his mind was dimly aware that this was, in a sense, sacrilege. He had little idea of the meaning this door might hold for the disciples of the Kurain channeling technique, but, right now, all it represented to him was a obstacle that must be overcome.
He rammed the door again, and this time, to his relief it budged but not enough to make a difference. Lotta's tune had changed slightly as she had gone from saying it was impossible on his own to simply saying it was impossible.
"Objection," he muttered through clenched teeth as he prepared to ram the door yet again. Objection. Objection. Objection. It was not impossible. It would give. And if it would not, he would make it.
He slammed himself into the door with force he had not though himself capable of. The wood groaned for a second in an exhausted protest.
Enough.
Wood splintered, and the door burst open, the lock clanking uselessly as it swung. For a moment he teetered, off-balance, but his foot instinctively planted itself firmly on the ground, and, at last, he stepped through the door to where she was.
Objection…sustained.
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Author's Note:
This story started out as one of the vaguest ideas in the set. Honestly, when I looked back at my list of ideas for this collection, I wasn't even sure I'd keep it. Still, I didn't have the heart to let it go, so…here it is.
Ah, I'm not at all sure what I expected from this piece, but, since I'm trying to do this in something vaguely resembling chronological order, this story needed to be place here.
Fortunately, however, I do know exactly what I'm going to write for the next one, so it shouldn't be as meandering as this.