Disclaimer: The Phoenix Wright cast still belongs to Capcom.
A/N: A word of caution: this chapter is insanely long compared to its predecessors. It is the conclusion (minus the epilogue) of this story. Also, the T rating is very relevant to this chapter. That said, I hope you enjoy.
Wake up, wake up, Maya, she repeated in the dark. There was something different about the nightmare this time. As if the very air were waiting. Waiting for something dreadful to happen. She could barely see; it was like she was back at the Hazakura Temple on the night she thought she would die—the night she would have died if not for Prosecutor Godot.
There was a stone walkway that led into the gloom. She didn't want to move because she knew that taking a step would be the first step toward something terrible. And yet, she couldn't stay there, cold and alone. Somehow she knew she would never escape the dream if she didn't move forward.
"I-I won't let you destroy me," she said shakily into the darkness. There was no reply. I can do this, she chanted to herself, placing one foot in front of the other. I can do this. I will wake up.
Her foot splashed into something wet and warm. She looked down and saw nothing; there was just the stone path. Her foot was clean. She took a few more steps and heard the splatter of her bare feet striking wet stone. W-W-What is this? Her heartbeat sped up in fright. She took another step, and another. Splash, splash. Warm, wet liquid. She couldn't see it, but she recognized the texture from countless nightmares before. Bile rose in the back of her throat and she began to run. Wake up! I have to wake up! She flew down the walkway, slipping and sliding on the slick stones. The fact that she couldn't see the blood made her more terrified than if it had been ostensibly sprayed all over her clothes.
The nightmare was toying with her. Its silence mocked her panicked gasps as she continued fleeing. Where she was going, she didn't know. The walkway seemed to stretch on forever into darkness.
"Mother!" she cried. Her mother was always in her nightmares, one way or another. "Mother, where are you? I want to wake up!" Her voice was laughably small and pathetic in the yawning darkness. Mother. Mother, mother, mother! "Help me," she whispered, her breaths turning ragged with fatigue. She sensed a change in the air and glanced up wildly to see the looming outline of a building.
Is that—the Fey Manor? She dashed toward the familiar structure. Then stopped. There was a shadow standing at the top of the steps, waiting.
"Mother?"
The figure didn't answer. Maya slowly began to approach the shadow. Her arms flew out for balance as she slipped on an incline. Her feet and legs felt slimy with congealed substance, but they still appeared unblemished to her eyes. "Mother?" she said again.
"Mother isn't here. I killed her, remember?"
Maya recoiled as features materialized from the darkness. The shadow figure was…Maya. Herself.
"Wh-Who are you?"
The doppelganger struck a thoughtful pose. "Hm…That's a hard one, isn't it?" It grinned widely, an exact copy of Maya's trademark smile. But there was something very wrong about it. It seemed almost vicious. "I bet you want to wake up, huh?" it teased merrily. "Oops, I mean, I bet I want to wake up. But you know, I'm really curious about the Fey Manor. What's it doing in the middle of nowhere?" The doppelganger's eyes gleamed in the darkness. "Don't you want to see what's inside?"
Maya shook her head woodenly from side to side. What ever was in there wasn't friendly. She struggled to breathe around her terror. But the shadow Maya merely laughed, sauntering toward her, forcing Maya to back up against the flimsy doors.
"What's the matter, huhh? It can't be—you're afraid of yourself, can it?" The doppelganger grabbed Maya's hands. Their noses were touching. "I'm you. You're me. Don't you trust me? Don't you trust you?"
"No," Maya managed to choke out. The eyes of her twin, her eyes, stared brightly into her own. "Y-You're not me!"
Shadow Maya giggled. "Oh but you are me. If you are me and I am not you, who are you?"
"No!"
"Yes!" The doppelganger released her suddenly and twirled around with her arms outstretched at her sides. "I'm a spirit medium but I'm afraid to channel spirits! I love the Steel Samurai! I love the Pink Princess! I love Nick because he's such a sweetie when he's not telling me I'm crazy. I love Pearly! I'd do anything for Pearly, she's the only reason I live anymore, right? Oh! Oh, and I know!" Shadow Maya came to a stop before Maya and flashed a secretive, coy smile. "I might even love," it whispered the next words, "Mr. Edgeworth."
The doppelganger trilled with laughter at Maya's terrified, astonished expression. "So did I get it? I got it, right?" it chortled gleefully. "I summed you up perfectly with a bow on top. Oops! I mean, I summed me up. Oh well. Me, you, you, me, it all comes down to the same person." It snatched up Maya's hand in a vise-like grip and pulled her into the mansion.
When Maya tried to resist, her mirror image turned around with an impossibly cheerful smile stretching from ear to ear. "Aw, come on, I love exploring new things! I love excitement! Although…" its expression turned thoughtful. "…it would be so much cooler if I weren't so dumb, you know? If I were a little smarter, I could have excitement without getting kidnapped and shot at, and hm, what else? Oh yeah. Making people die because of me."
"Stop," Maya whispered. Her vision was blurring. "Stop. Let me wake up. I want to wake up now."
Shadow Maya only laughed. It would have been identical to Maya's own laugh if it hadn't sounded so evil. It tugged her further into the mansion. "Don't be a spoilsport," it said. "The party's just getting started."
-----
In the bed, Maya tossed and turned, kicking off her blankets in the process. Her temperature had suddenly spiked to an alarming height and she was burning with fever. Her hair was plastered against her clammy forehead. It was cold outside—it had started to snow again.
But Maya didn't feel a thing.
-----
She wasn't surprised that the interior looked nothing like the Fey Manor. In fact, from what she could make out in the darkness, it was entirely a long hallway with doors on the left side. She couldn't see the end.
The doppelganger tugged her toward the first door. "Hum. I wonder what's in here?"
"No, don't open it—"
Shadow Maya only smirked, and with incredible strength, shoved Maya through the gaping black portal. Maya landed on her face, limbs splayed ungracefully all over the floor. Is it supposed to hurt this much in a dream? she wondered vaguely. She scrambled up and whirled around, but there was only a blank wall where the door should have been.
"H-Hey—Hey!" She ran toward the wall and pounded her fists against it. "What's going on? Let me out! Let me out!"
"Be quiet."
Maya jumped and spun back around. Her heart leapt at the sight of the person standing there. "Sis! Sis, I—"
"Maya."
Maya's joy was abruptly cut off. Mia's voice was flat. She had never spoken to Maya in that tone before. "Sis?"
Mia shook her head. Even with a dark expression on her face, her features were beautiful. "Immature as ever, I see," she said coldly.
Maya gaped in utter confusion. This isn't my sister!
"Oh, I am your sister," Mia answered. "Unfortunately for me."
Maya was shaking her head in denial. It was too horrible for her to handle. She loved Mia—Mia had always been her hero, especially when she left the village and made a name for herself as an ace defense attorney. Even though she became very busy with her success, Mia had always made time for Maya over the phone or at Maya's favorite burger joint. They would talk and laugh about the things they had done while they hadn't seen each other. Maya loved her sister and she had never doubted its reciprocity. Mia would never say something so horrible to her.
But the lovely defense attorney only folded her arms in that graceful manner she possessed, and regarded the younger woman without emotion.
"Why?" Maya cried. "Why would you say that to me?"
"I was a lawyer, Maya. My job was to speak the truth. It is no different in death. And the truth is, you are, and always have been, a burden to everyone."
"N-No." Maya was devastated.
"Yes. Think about it. During the DL-6 trial, you couldn't channel me when Phoenix needed me most. Edgeworth paid your bail when you disrupted court. You let yourself be kidnapped and forced Phoenix to nearly allow a guilty man to go free. Then at the Hazakura Temple, who needed to be rescued, again?"
Maya wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. But Mia wasn't finished.
"And you were rescued, weren't you? At the cost of mother's life. Honestly, Maya. Don't you think it would have been better for everyone if you did not exist? Even I would still be alive if you had not been there for me to call."
"That's not fair," Maya whispered dully, thought there was no conviction in her voice.
"Life isn't fair," Mia answered. "But at least you, however inadequate, are lucky enough to still have one."
Maya was trembling in agony at her sister's words. The real Mia would have never said them, and yet…and yet, what if that was what she had really thought of Maya all that time? It can't be. Sis loves me, right? Maya was crying soundlessly.
Mia shook her head. "Grow up, Maya. It's way past your time." She turned her back on the girl.
And suddenly Maya was flying backwards, as if sucked through a giant, hellish vacuum. She landed hard on her back in the hallway, sliding through something hot and sticky. Her head smacked into the other wall.
"Ouch. That's got to hurt."
Maya peered up with difficulty at the grinning face of her double. She never thought she could hate anything so passionately, but at that moment, she despised her smiling face more than anything in the world.
"I w-want t-t-to wake u-up."
The doppelganger tsked and hauled her up roughly by the hand. Maya's clothes were plastered against her body, but she still couldn't see the gooey substance. It was like there was nothing there.
"There's no fun in that," the shadow Maya laughed, dragging her toward the next door. Maya fought futilely against the impossible hold. She didn't want to talk to anyone. She didn't know if she could take another verbal attack, another onslaught of her blackest sins. But the doppelganger merely laughed with greater delight. "It'll be ok, Maya. I'll even stay with you this time." They went through the second door.
And walked into the High Prosecutor's Office. The shadow Maya kept its tight hold on Maya's hand as it stared at the expensive decor in a mockery of what would have been Maya's wide-eyed wonder.
"Look at this couch!" The doppelganger jumped happily into the plush seat, yanking Maya down with it. "And look. It's our two favorite people."
Maya glanced over toward the expansive bookshelf where a chess table was set up. Phoenix and Edgeworth were huddled over it together, their heads nearly touching. They didn't seem to notice their visitors.
"So anyway," Phoenix was saying, "we were eating at Burger Land and she kept stuffing more and more fries in her mouth. She was wolfing them down so fast I was afraid she'd choke on one and die."
An expression of disgust crossed the prosecutor's face. "Wright, there is no need to furnish me with such details."
"Ok, ok. It just left a strong impression on me. I worry about her sometimes. Or rather, all the time," he corrected.
Edgeworth looked irritated. "So I've noticed. Check."
Phoenix was startled. "Damn." He studied the board and moved a piece. "Do you think she's doing alright all by herself? I mean, usually she has Pearls at her place to keep her more responsible. But Pearls is at my place this time so—"
"For the love of God, Wright, can you stop blithering about Maya for one second?"
"Alright, geez. No need to get your ruffles all in a knot." But Phoenix looked pleased.
From her sunken position on the couch, Maya closed her eyes and tried to shut out their voices. It wasn't so much the sight of them together that hurt—it was Edgeworth's unconcealed disapproval of her. The doppelganger leaned over and whispered, "Hehe, don't kid yourself. Oops. I mean, myself. Edgey and Nicky sitting at tea, k-i-s-s-i-n-g. Now that hurts, doesn't it?"
Maya bit her lip so hard that it should have bled. But it didn't. Wake up! she screamed internally. Wake up, wake up, WAKE UP!
The doppelganger was hysterical with laughter. "Aw, we can't leave yet," it said between gasps. When it had sufficiently recovered itself, it stood and hustled Maya back into the hallway. "After all, we haven't been to all the rooms yet."
"No, no more," Maya pleaded. The emotional barrage was too much. She felt so sick that she would have sunk to her knees and thrown up on the spot if not for being dragged by her horrid twin. The shadow Maya skipped down the hallway and pressed its ear against the next door. Its shoulders began to shake in silent glee.
"Oh this one is good," it said nastily. "It's good enough to die for."
Maya planted her feet in anticipation of the shove. But to her surprise, the doppelganger merely shot her a smirk and vanished into thin air. It knows I'm going to open the door, she thought bitterly. The nightmare won't end until I've seen what's on the other side. She rubbed her eyes with trembling hands and tried to summon a modicum of tranquility. But she didn't have any to call upon. She was terrified—what other loved one would stare at her with loathing? Who else would tell her that she was useless? Who else have I hurt?
The doorknob began to twist on its own, and Maya stood frozen like a deer in the headlights of a car. She watched wide-eyed as it turned ever so slowly until it clicked and the door began to creak open. Her heart stopped at the sight of the little figure that was revealed.
"Mystic Maya?"
Maya started to back away in panic. No. Not Pearl. Not my little Pearly.
"Mystic Maya? Why are you going away?" Pearl took a few tottering steps out of the room, her hands outstretched. When Maya continued backing away, the child's face contorted with hurt. "Mystic Maya?" she sniffled uncertainly.
"N-No. You're not Pearl," Maya whispered. "And that wasn't Nick and that wasn't Edgeworth and that wasn't Sis. It's just a dream." Her voice grew louder. "It's just a dream, and I'm going to wake up."
Pearl was openly crying now, and Maya squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears with her hands to block out the heartrending wails. "It's not real, it's not real, it's not real," she repeated numbly to herself.
"Mystic Maya!"
Her eyes snapped open at the thunderous voice. Morgan Fey stood at the entrance of the door, holding the bawling Pearl protectively in the folds of her kimono. The matronly woman regarded her niece with undisguised hatred.
"How dare you make my daughter cry," she snarled. "How many times must you hurt my little girl?"
"You're not real," Maya cried. "You're just a nightmare. Let me wake up already! I want to wake up already!"
"I'm not real?" Morgan repeated furiously. "Tell me something, Mystic Maya. Is this real?" She thrust her sobbing child before her. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you have never made my daughter cry!"
"I-I-I-"
"You are not worthy to be the master of the Kurain channeling tradition! You are a failure, just like your mother! You are weak. You are a spirit medium that can't channel spirits! It isn't you who should be master. It should be Pearl! You never should have been born!"
Maya was shaking her head jerkily from side to side. She didn't want to hear it anymore. She already knew she was a failure. She was a burden. She was useless. She already knew all of these things. She just wanted this nightmare to end.
"If not for you, Pearl would have been master by now," Morgan continued coldly. "I wouldn't have had to scheme to throw you out of the picture. Because of you, Pearl lost her mother. It is your fault, Mystic Maya. Because of you, everyone's lives are more troublesome. Because of you—"
"I know!" Maya yelled, sick to her stomach. Her vision swam, and she was so hot, but at the same time, so terribly cold. "Because of me, my mother is dead, right? If not for me, she'd be alive right now."
Morgan eyed her with disdain. "What do I care for Mystic Misty? Her death was the only good your existence achieved. No, Mystic Maya, because of you, Pearl is miserable."
Maya stared at her aunt through a filmy haze. It was still dark, but the dizzying quality of her vision gave everything a searing white outline. She wondered distantly if it was possible to pass out in a dream.
"That's not true. I'd do anything for Pearl," she said tightly. "Her happiness is everything to me."
"Your very existence is the reason she no longer has a mother. You can hardly offer her spiritual guidance because you are barely competent yourself. And then, you get yourself kidnapped and trapped at a temple! Did you even think about what could have happened to Pearl while you were having your little adventures?"
Maya felt as if all the air were being sucked out of her lungs. "N-Nick was there to—"
"And what is he?" Morgan demanded. "A spirit medium? A parent? That man knows nothing about either of these things, and they are exactly the things Pearl needs guidance in. You claim that my daughter's happiness is everything to you, but you aren't even there for her half the time! It would have been better for Pearl to stay in the village, away from you. At least there someone responsible would have given her a decent life while you went out horsing around with a poorly paid defense attorney."
I'm not—I'm not there…for Pearly? There was white noise in Maya's ears.
Morgan held her child close to herself and viewed her niece through pitiless black eyes. "You are harming my daughter. If you really want what's best for her, you would stay as far away from her as this earth allows." She withdrew into the room and slammed the door.
The ground dropped out of Maya's world. She sank to her knees, eyes glassy and lips parted in a daze. She couldn't see. She couldn't breathe. Pearl was the only reason she had been able to laugh, despite all adversity. Pearl was the only reason she had been able to make it through the day, day after day. Pearl was the only reason she really lived, anymore.
But I've been bad for her all along. Maya sat dully in the silence; the only sound was the echo of her Aunt Morgan's last words repeating over and over in her head. "You're harming my daughter. Stay away from her. You're harming her…Stay away…Stay away…"
-----
She didn't know how long she'd been sitting there in the same position when another sound broke its way through her circular thoughts. Some part of her mind noted that it sounded like rushing water. But she didn't move. She didn't care anymore. She didn't care if she never opened her eyes in the real world again.
The rushing sound grew louder. Maya looked down ever so slowly to see that she was sitting in the middle of running water. The hallway must have flooded somehow. She began to struggle to her feet with the same painful slowness that she'd noticed the running water. She staggered and then crumpled to her hands and knees. She didn't know why she was trying—she didn't know where she would go. But she managed to stand, slapping a hand against the wall to balance herself when she nearly toppled over again. She stared blankly at the wall. Her hand and the wall. There was something funny about it. She let her hand slide down and fall to her side.
Maya stared at the dark stripe her hand had made on the wood. She slowly lifted her hand in front of her eyes, and then looked down at the water rushing around her feet. Except it wasn't water.
"No," she moaned, suddenly seeing that her feet, legs, and clothes were dripping with red. A second later, the strong metallic smell hit her like a train. She began to scream.
Maya ran haphazardly down the hall, her bare feet sloshing through the roiling blood. She didn't know where she was going and she didn't care. She just needed to get out of the mansion and its horrid red river. The level of blood was rising—it churned riotously around her ankles, then calves, then knees.
"STOP IT! STOP IT!" she screamed wildly. She stumbled and lost her footing; she fell and was dragged under the current. It swept her further down the hall before she broke the surface of the fluid gasping and flailing about. She spat out blood and slung it from her eyes. She tried to stand but the current was too strong; she sunk and began to paddle in the only direction she could go.
Very soon she heard a deep roar above the sound of the rushing river and her violent coughing. She knew that sound—she must be heading toward an exit.
Almost as soon as she thought that, the bloody river burst through the end of the hallway into open air. Maya was projected into space as if she were a mere rag doll and immediately began to spin in descent. She screamed again as she hit the pool at the base of the crashing waterfall. Her only relief was that it was really water this time.
But her relief was short lived. The water was incredibly hot. She managed to thrash her way to the edge of the pool and drag herself onto the smoking stones. Her skin was scorching to the touch. She felt as if she was burning from the inside out.
Maya searched her surroundings frantically and saw that the mansion and the bloody river had vanished. It was just a bed of steaming rocks everywhere she looked. She glanced at her hands and feet. To her horror, they were still completely covered with blood. She dashed back into the falls and began to vigorously scrub herself. But no matter how hard she rubbed with her hands or scraped against the rocks, the blood wouldn't wash away.
"Get off!" she cried as she scrubbed herself in vain under the crashing water. "Get off of me! Why won't it come off?"
There was a tinkling laugh from nearby and Maya's head snapped up. The sound shouldn't have been that clear above the roar of the waterfall.
It was her doppelganger, the replica of herself, and now also completely soaked in blood.
"Because it's mother's," it said. It was grinning. The teeth were stained with blood. "Mother's blood will always be on my hands." It wiggled its glistening red fingers in front of its face. "And so will Mia's. And soon, cute little Pearly's, too. Everyone I'm close to eventually suffers. That's pretty much all I'm good for. Making people suffer." The doppelganger did a little skip and bow. "Because you know…I'm guilty."
Maya put her hands over her ears and backed away, shaking her head. She couldn't take it anymore. She really couldn't.
But the bloodied, merry Maya-copy cupped its own hands around its ears and said, "Do you hear that? The jury's about to call your number. Do you hear that?"
Maya could. It was as if her hands were made of paper for all the good they did. The voices were in the water, in the rocks, in the sudden gale of wind.
"Guilty," they hissed. "Guilty."
"Stop," Maya whispered. She was dying inside.
"Guilty," Mia's voice accused.
"Guilty," Phoenix yelled.
"Guilty," Edgeworth roared.
"Guilty," Pearl cried.
"Stop. Please. Please. Stop. Please stop—"
"Guilty," Misty Fey shrieked.
"No…"
"Guilty, guilty, guilty," they chanted, their voices growing to thunderous volumes. "GUILTY GUILTY GUILTY! GUILTY GUILTY GUILTY!"
"Stop," Maya screamed, bloody hands sealed against the sides of her head. "STOOOOOOOOOOOOP!"
Somewhere unseen there was a deafening bang, as if a gigantic judge had slammed his gigantic gavel and sealed her fate.
-----
She was still screaming when she abruptly sat up in bed, tears streaming down her face. She was immediately wracked with a fit of coughing as she staggered out of bed and stumbled to her dresser. Her clothes were soaked with sweat but she didn't notice, blindly grabbing for a coat and knocking her cell phone to the floor in the process. The mini display lit up and showed the tiny text saying it was attempting a speed-dial number. She didn't see. She was burning with delirium.
Maya lurched around her apartment looking for her keys. She had to stop when a particularly violent bout of coughing caused her to double over, rattling her entire slight frame. She recovered enough to stand and went to the door. She realized she didn't care about her keys. She didn't care about anything. All she knew was that she needed to go somewhere so cold that it would put out the living torch she'd become.
If her apartment got burgled, so what? If the place was burned to the ground when she returned, so what? Or if she didn't return at all, so what?
It would be better for everyone if the burden that was Maya Fey suddenly disappeared and never came back.
-----
Franziska pressed her head into the pillow, letting out a groggy, annoyed growl. Her hand groped blindly on the bed stand for her phone; she found it and cracked an eye to peer at the display. Then she looked at the time.
Four a.m. in the morning!? What is that fool doing? She knew she was going to regret giving her number to that girl sooner or later. All the same, she sat up in her cozy bed and pressed the talk button. Miles Edgeworth owed her big time.
"Yes?" There was no answer. Franziska gripped her phone in irritation. What she would give to be able to whip someone through a cell phone. "Maya Fey, what are you—"
She heard shuffling noises, then a sudden cacophony of thick coughing. It didn't sound near—Franziska sat up straighter, mind rapidly clearing of sleep. When did her cold develop into something like that? "Maya? Maya Fey!" The coughing continued for a full minute before the prosecutor heard the patter of feet in the distance, then the click of a door closing. The bathroom? Franziska's brow furrowed. No. She knew the sound of the front door closing after all her frequent visitations there. At four a.m. in the morning, where would a sick spirit medium go?
Franziska quickly hung up and dialed Edgeworth's number.
-----
Maya's door was unlocked and both prosecutors entered without a second thought. They had attempted to call her multiple times with the same result. After an hour, Edgeworth had grabbed his car keys and told Franziska he was going to go to the apartment. Franziska decided to follow suit.
The sheets on the bed were wildly twisted, as if a fight had occurred there. Edgeworth leaned down and touched them.
"Wet," he said.
"She probably had a sudden bad fever," Franziska responded, searching the room for clues to Maya's whereabouts. "Her coughing was dreadful enough." She spotted the purple cell phone on the floor and picked it up. Nineteen missed phone calls.
Edgeworth was grim. It was probably their excursion to the park that had worsened Maya's condition; they had spent all day in the cold air, and she had been extremely lively. How could I have been so stupid?
"Where would she go?" Franziska asked with her arms crossed. "She already has cough medicine and the stores don't open for another few hours anyway. Do you think she went to Phoenix Wright?"
"I don't imagine she would," Edgeworth replied tightly. "He is the last person she wants to worry about her. Particularly because the little girl is with him."
"Then what do we know?" Franziska listed their limited clues. "She's sick—probably burning with fever. Maybe she's delirious. She doesn't want to worry Phoenix Wright. What else?"
Nightmares, Edgeworth thought with sudden fear. Delirium, exhaustion, and guilty nightmares. It was a recipe for disaster. She wouldn't hurt herself, would she?
Franziska's eyes fell on the wall calendar and frowned. Something vague began to take shape in her mind. "Burning with fever," she muttered. Edgeworth glanced at the other prosecutor, then at the calendar of the enormous waterfall. Franziska stared at him. "She said Queen Falls is the only one that doesn't freeze in winter because of its size. The icy waters would be appealing to someone burning out of her mind."
Queen Falls…Queen Falls is too powerful! She'll die! Edgeworth felt the world spin madly about him and he ran to the door. Somewhere along in their frantic dash, Franziska snatched the keys from him and yelled, "You're in no condition to drive!"
They scrambled into his car and were soon flying down the freeway toward the mountains.
-----
It's huge, Edgeworth thought, surveying the monstrous waterfall with terrified panic. The craggy path leading toward the gigantic pool was encrusted with ice, but he and Franziska picked their way across as quickly as they could manage.
"Maya!" he yelled. Franziska echoed him. But it was futile. The roaring waters swallowed up their voices almost as soon as the words left their mouths. He scrambled his way to the edge of the pool, feeling the spray lick his face. It was freezing. "Maya! Answer me!"
Franziska moved in the opposite direction around the perimeter of the pool, calling her name. Edgeworth searched the white waters frantically for a sign, any sign of the dark haired girl. "Maya!" he yelled over and over, slipping precariously on the frozen stones. He discarded his heavy coat and was soon soaked to the bone. The falls are too heavy! he thought despairingly. The monstrous falls roared thunderously in his ears as he skittered onto a patch of grass. He would try to go behind the falls toward the cave behind it.
But there was no dry ground behind the colossal waterfall. Edgeworth stared at the churning pool numbly. He yelled her name desperately. Answer me. Answer me, god damn you! There was a split-second break in the middle of the crashing falls. And he saw…something. He peered harder. There it was again. A flash of purple. He dove into the pool and swam toward the middle of the falls. He couldn't believe how cold it was. The water was so loud that he was sure he'd be deaf by the time this was through. But he didn't care about that, because he saw Maya. She was lying face down on an outcropping of water-worn boulders. Edgeworth went through the falls and immediately had to fight the pressure pounding down on him. He hefted the girl onto his back and struggled laboriously toward the banks.
Franziska had spotted them. She ran down to the edge and took hold of Maya's limp form as Edgeworth sloshed onto the icy ground. "F-Franzis-ska! C-C-Call—" She was already on the phone barking directions to the emergency operator.
Edgeworth carried the girl away from the frigid waters toward drier ground. He was too exhausted to make it all the way back to the car so he simply collapsed in the grass, shivering and cradling the girl in his lap. Her face was deathly pale; her breathing was watery and shallow. Edgeworth was shaking his head over and over as he bent over her body. He was dripping everywhere. But he couldn't let her go.
You knew what you were doing, didn't you, he thought furiously, clutching her form tightly against him. There was wetness on his face that had nothing to do with the waterfall. You knew you were going to die, you idiot! You idiot! He pressed his cold cheek against her cold forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. The liquid on his face was scalding against their freezing flesh. He was furious, even though he understood her all too well. It wasn't so long ago that he had been the same.
But every fiber of his being resonated in pain. He didn't know what the girl had been dreaming, or what she had been thinking after their day at the park. All he knew was that she was ill, and he was powerless to help her. My words—they meant…they meant nothing to her. I couldn't…help her.
"Miles."
He looked up at Franziska, who gestured in the distance.
He could hear the sound of wailing sirens.
-----
The doctor assured him that she would be just fine after a few weeks of deep rest and mild foods. She had also suffered a minor concussion, but the doctors were confident she would be able to make a complete recovery. Once Edgeworth was satisfied with their report, his thoughts turned to other things.
Maya's physical health was no longer in jeopardy. But that said nothing of her mental state. He knew she was suffering from guilt, that she blamed herself for her mother's death. He also knew that once one was cursed with such a heavy burden, other guilts and past mistakes would swarm around like crows to a carcass. And like the carcass, the soul would eventually decay and disappear altogether. He couldn't allow that to happen to Maya. But he was leaving in two days. It never crossed his mind to cancel or even postpone his travels. There was nothing for him in this country—once he left, he doubted he would ever make a return trip again. So he wrote a letter.
-----
He delivered it personally during visiting hours the same day, along with a small, brown-wrapped box. Maya was sleeping; he'd never seen her with her eyes open since he'd parted with her on that last happy day together. He placed the envelope and box on the small bedside table, and then simply stood gazing down at her, arms hanging loosely at his sides.
What was he supposed to say? She likely wouldn't even hear him. As he watched her sleeping face and listened to her steady breathing, a lump began to form in the back of his throat. He was never going to see her again. Slowly, carefully, Edgeworth reached out and did what he had wanted to do for the longest time. He gently brushed a finger over her cheek, tracing the hairline scar, the corner of her lips, the curve of her jaw. Her skin was so soft.
He let his hand fall away and blinked once. Twice. He had to go—there were some last minute preparations that needed attending to. He turned around trying to fight the lump in his throat. It wouldn't go away.
At the doorway he almost bumped into Franziska, who was studying his face with solemnity. "Miles Edgeworth," she said evenly. He merely looked at her. "You are in love with Maya Fey."
For a moment Edgeworth simply stood there, his face a frozen mask of impassivity. Then slowly, painfully, he inclined his head, once.
"Take care of her," he said. He brushed past Franziska and didn't look back.
-----
Maya smelled the sterile antiseptic scent of the hospital before she opened her eyes. Her mind was a total blank. But not for long. When she finally managed to open her eyes, she saw—
"Nick?"
The attorney's eyes widened in his anxious face. "Maya? Oh thank god." He stooped over and crushed her against him.
"Nick?" she queried tremulously. There was a pressure in the back of her mind and it felt about ready to explode.
"It's ok, Maya," he whispered against her hair, rocking her gently. "It's ok now."
The dam broke and Maya began to cry. She buried her face in the lapels of his suit and sobbed and sobbed while he rocked her consolingly on the edge of the bed. It would be a long time before she was able to stop.
-----
Phoenix remained at her side until the nurses drove him out and Maya assured him that she would be fine by herself. But before he left, she had a question to ask.
"Nick…how did I get here?"
Phoenix paused, then carefully said, "Edgeworth called me. He's been really worried about you lately."
Maya felt her heart contract. "I-I see. Thanks."
-----
The next day, she noticed the envelope and tiny box on the bedside table. She opened the letter with some apprehension—as Edgeworth had not visited her, she could only assume it was from him. She was afraid of what he'd have to say after rescuing her from a nearly fatal expedition to the waterfall. His handwriting is pretty, she thought, seeing the elegant cursive penmanship that flowed across the page. She began to read.
Dear Maya,
I trust this letter finds you well. There is much I wish to say to you but I am afraid that my words will be terribly ineffectual in the face of your grief. Nevertheless, I feel compelled to convey my deepest sympathy and concern for your welfare. I want you to know that I understand what you are going through. I know that there is very little that anyone can do to ease your pain, and there are extremely few answers for dealing with such. However, I also want you to understand that the path you had chosen was not the best path to take. It may have indeed ended your troubles in this life, but you would have left a great number of people with immeasurable pain, not least of all myself. You are irreplaceable.
Your mother's death is not your fault. You need to understand this. However difficult it may seem to believe this, this is the absolute truth. To view her death as a crime you committed is to devalue her sacrifice. Think of it instead as a testament of her love for you. This is the way she would want it. However, if my words alone are insufficient to convince you, I implore you to have a talk with Wright, Franziska, or Mr. Armando. I have explained everything to them; I hope someday you will understand my motives and are able to forgive me.
I am also writing to inform you of my departure to Europe. Perhaps it is cowardly to reveal this to you in writing, but I doubt I would have had the courage to say this to you in person. You see, I have begun to feel trapped in this country. But there was a stretch of time when this was not so, time I had spent with you. I do not know how to explain it except that your smile has become something very precious to me. I do not expect you to understand, nor reciprocate my sentiments.
Maya—you will recover. Just give it some time. It is my sincere hope that this letter has been of some use to you and that you may remember me fondly. I wish you the best in all your future endeavors.
Yours always,
Miles Edgeworth
-----
Maya pressed a hand to her lips, the letter resting in her lap. A thousand thoughts and feelings clamored chaotically within her. Her nightmare—her nightmare was wrong. Even after what she'd done, Edgeworth still cared for her. She reread the letter, not noticing when a visitor stepped into the room. Edgeworth. Her face was stricken. Edgeworth. Edgeworth. He…Edgeworth…he…
"He loves you."
Maya jumped in fright and stared at her visitor. "F-Franziska."
The attractive German prosecutor was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. "Well?" she demanded. "I hope that foolish fool said as much in his foolish letter since he couldn't face you like a foolish man."
Maya tried to say something, but no words came. She felt as if she had been hit by a truck. Eventually, she simply held out the letter for the other woman to read.
While Franziska was thus occupied, Maya carefully unwrapped the little box. She opened the lid and removed the tissue paper. When she saw what was inside, her lips parted speechlessly. She lifted out the trinket—at the end of the silver chain, a tiny cream-colored bear swung merrily to and fro. 'Remember me fondly'...
Maya glanced up and instantly shrank back. Franziska's face was almost as livid as it had been when Nick had defeated her for the first time in court.
"Miles…Edgeworth…" she hissed through gritted teeth. She stabbed a finger at Maya. "You! Do you have any idea what you have done?"
"I—Wh-What?"
"When you decided to drown yourself two days ago, you drowned out any hope that man might have had of your returning his feelings."
"His—f-feelings?" Maya repeated faintly.
"Yes, you fool!" Franziska snapped. "I know that man. He would never admit it but he's been foolishly in love with you for a very long time. What is that look for!? Are you telling me you've never noticed? Open your eyes fool! When you went out there to die, he got the idea in his head that he means nothing to you. If he thinks he means nothing to you, he thinks he has nothing to come back for. Put some sense into your empty head right now or you will never see that man again."
When Maya only gaped at her in stunned silence, Franziska cracked her whip against the bed, ripping a hole in the covers. "Maya Fey. Ask yourself this question. What do you want?"
What do I want? Maya stared at the waiting prosecutor in a daze. I—I want…
"Do you want to see him?"
Maya closed her mouth. Edgeworth's frowning face flashed before her eyes. Always frowning, but always…watching out for me. Under that serious expression Edgeworth had always cared. Maya's throat constricted as she managed a hesitant nod.
Franziska coiled the whip around her shoulder and grabbed her by the hand. Somewhere, somehow, Franziska had secretly grown protective of this foolishly foolish girl. But she would never admit it. "Hurry up," she said peevishly. "Or we'll miss his plane."
-----
Edgeworth had chartered a private jet for his flight to Europe—he had no desire to see other people or hear their inane babbling. He didn't want to be bothered by the phony smiles of overly cheery flight attendants. He wanted silence.
The captain popped his head into the cabin and said, "Sir, we have clearance to go. We will be taking off in ten minutes unless you state otherwise."
The prosecutor shook his head. "Proceed as planned."
The captain bowed and disappeared.
Edgeworth unfolded a newspaper as the engines roared and the jet began to make its tedious journey around the track. Europe's political climate had been tense lately, and he was curious to know how it was affecting trial policies, if at all. But as he perused the columns he found he couldn't concentrate. Her face kept haunting him. Her smiling eyes, her spontaneous bright grins. His stomach was in knots.
Stop it. He rubbed his temples angrily. He would pull himself together. Yes, he cared for her, and he would always. Yes, it pained him to leave. But she didn't need him, and he needed to move on. The pain would ease with time.
Who are you kidding? Edgeworth tossed the paper aside, his mouth thinning in a severe line. His jaw was clenched so tightly it hurt.
There was a brief lull in the jet's movements; they must have approached the start of the runway. As the aircraft began to roll and pick up speed, Edgeworth muttered, "Goodbye, America. May I never see your hallowed shores again."
Suddenly there was a shout of alarm. It was followed by a horrid screeching of metal and rubber against asphalt. Edgeworth was sharply thrown against his seatbelt and felt as if the air had been punched out of his lungs. The jet veered wildly; there was more shouting and squealing of breaks, and then a sudden abrupt stop.
Edgeworth quickly unfastened his seatbelt and walked unsteadily to the front, demanding "What in the blazes is going on?"
A very flustered captain greeted him, readjusting his hat with shaking hands. "I'm very sorry sir. There was—there was an unexpected complication."
"What do you mean?"
"A-A car suddenly pulled in front of us on the runway." The captain's radio crackled and he glanced apologetically at the prosecutor. "There's a woman outside and she says she's not going to move until you come out of the jet."
Edgeworth stared disbelievingly at the other man. "Let down the ramp," he snapped. When the captain had done so, he stormed down the ramp intending to deliver a harsh dressing-down to the ridiculous driver.
Instead, he heard a sharp crack and a sudden stripe burned across his cheek. "Franziska!?" he choked, reeling back in shock.
The other prosecutor raised her arm back for another lash. A second stripe blazed beneath the first one. "Wh-What are you doing? What do you want?" He threw an arm in front of his face.
"Miles Edgeworth." Franziska had her whip strung for another snap. "If you leave that girl, I swear on the name Von Karma that I will whip your sorry hide to pieces. Right here. Right now."
"Franziska, are you mad!? I—" The whip cracked three more times and pain blossomed down his arm.
"Wrong. You are mad." Franziska regarded him coldly. "No, you are not even that. You are just pathetic. How can you do this to her? If I could learn to be there for Adrian Andrews, why can't you do the same for Maya Fey?"
"This is not the same—" He saw her raise the whip and braced himself for another blow.
"No! It's ok, Franziska. It's alright…"
Edgeworth's heart stopped. Maya had appeared at Franziska's side, a hand staying the prosecutor's arm.
"M-Maya? Sh-Shouldn't you be in bed?"
Maya shook her head and walked over to Edgeworth. Her heart was in her throat—she never realized just how much she had grown to love the sight of that arguably reddish suit. Or rather…the man it represented. She was afraid to examine the feeling too closely; for now, it was enough that he was there, standing before her.
"I…read your letter," she said softly. Edgeworth had the strangest look on his face. It seemed so vulnerable. "And I just wanted to thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. For—everything. I owe you my life." When Edgeworth opened his mouth to speak, she shook her head. "No, don't say anything. Mr. Edgeworth, I…I'm going to get better. And I'm going to return to Kurain Village for a while, to take up my responsibilities as master." She handed him a small folded paper. "That's my address at my Kurain residence, if you…ever need it."
"I-I see."
Franziska glared at the two of them and said, "Fools, the both of you! Maya Fey, you have something else to say, so say it. Right. Now. I'll be waiting in the car. So hurry up." She marched away, her boot heels clicking smartly against the ground.
"Um." Maya bit her lip awkwardly as Edgeworth looked expectantly at her. He was frowning as usual, but for once she didn't try to correct him. No, Edgeworth's frown was simply…Edgeworth. And she loved that too. "Come back," she blurted suddenly, her voice catching. "Please come back. I think I—I think I love you." She rushed on, not looking at his face. "But it's no good if I say it now. I—I want to get better first. I want to tell you when I'm not so confused. S-So if you can w-w-wait for me, I promise I'll get myself s-sorted out. But—you have to come back someday."
Miles Edgeworth had never been so overwhelmed by emotion in his life. As he stood there looking at the trembling girl still clad in her baggy hospital garb, it took all of his effort not to snatch her up and simply take her to Europe with him.
Instead, he said quietly, "I will wait for you." I'll give you eternity if you want. "And I promise—I promise I'll come back."
Maya swiped a hand over her eyes. When she looked up at him, she was smiling. It was sad, it was tired, but it was a smile. It was Maya. Edgeworth reached out and traced a thumb around the curve of her cheek. His hand was warm.
"I'll see you around then," she said. He nodded and let his hand fall away. With a final parting wave, she turned and ran back toward Franziska's car.
Edgeworth glanced at his flight captain.
And smiled.
"Let's go."