Well, this is it.

I changed this chapter a LOT, so it took a while to update. I really hope it was worth it... I'm kinda nervous. Thanks to EVERYONE who's been reading this. It means so much to get those nice reviews!

Next time you see me, I'll be writing a prequel to this fic-- a roooomance about Nick and Maya?! Get excited. I know I am!

Until next time...

I picked up Maya from her apartment that morning, and told her we were going out for breakfast-- "It's a little tradition of mine", I explained as I practically yanked her out the door. She didn't have time to argue. I grabbed her hand as I pulled her down the street, ultimately leading her to that cheap excuse for a restaurant I always ate at-- the same restaurant where I caught a glimpse of Maya and Wright as a couple for the first time, where Gumshoe first reeled me back into the world I'd left behind...

I sat across from her, at my usual table by the window, of course, watching her as she held a mug of hot cocoa to her lips. Her tiny hands couldn't even reach completely around the cup.

I never realized how small, how fragile she was. Her big personality normally overshadowed her petite frame, but as I witnessed her picking at her food like some sort of bird, and quietly, solemnly speaking, she really did look ... little.

I had spent the past few days entirely with Maya, keeping her company (although neither of us said much, really) and forcing her to eat (although neither of us had an appetite). I even accompanied her to her apartment every night (and I mean that in the cleanest, most literal way possible), waiting in the living room until half the night had gone by to leave. I couldn't let her go to sleep without someone being there; I know all too well what it's like to wake up after a nightmare, sweating, looking for someone to tell you, "It's just a dream", and realizing that there's no one around to hear your cry for help. I couldn't put her through that.

Maya slowly bit into the toast she ordered to be "practically burned to a crisp". She set the piece of bread down after one bite.

"It's no good?" I asked disappointedly.

Maya stammered, "No, it's fine, it's just..."

"Yeah. I get it," I didn't even have to ask. "Sorry."

"Why should you be sorry? I'm just not hungry."

"Well, I don't know," I looked into her eyes, which had dark, exhausted circles surrounding them, "I just want you to take care of yourself, I suppose."

"I'm so glad I have somebody like you to be with," Maya half-smiled, sighing. "I hope you don't mind constantly hanging around me."

"I don't mind keeping you company at all." It was true. Despite a lack of sleep and the loss of a close friend, the past few days weren't bad at all. "It's actually kinda nice."

"Good," Maya downed the rest of what was left of her hot cocoa. "I heard being with people makes dealing with death a lot easier." She thought for a moment, then added, "Maybe that's why I didn't dwell on Mia's death-- I had Nick the entire time."

Pfft. If being around people cures mourning, why am I still a wreck?

I tried not to show it, but I had turned into a walking disaster ever since Wright's death. I seemed relatively fine on the outside around Maya, but in reality, I couldn't stop thinking about that night. I was having nightmares about sitting in the waiting room of that hospital. The day after he died, I sat in my apartment, crying on my bedroom floor, blaming myself for his death, among other things. I hadn't really eaten in days. The morning of Wright's funeral, I could barely function normally enough to dress myself.

Surprisingly, I didn't have a tear left in me by the time the actual funeral service came around. I just sat there, alone in the pews, watching all the sobbing people... trying to drown out the church choir's monotonous drone with my own thoughts.

I caught a glimpse of Wright's mother sitting next to Maya, but I couldn't bring myself to go over to her to express my sympathy. I hadn't seen the woman since I was nine years old, when Wright invited Larry and me over to his house at least once a week. She probably wouldn't even recognize me.

I met up with Maya after the burial was over. She was sobbing, blubbering words about having absolutely no one, mentioning that Gumshoe was leaving later that day to go back out west. In a moment of selflessness, I told her I would take her home and fix her dinner.

And since then, I'd been keeping myself busy enough with keeping Maya company that I didn't have time to discuss my feelings.

"Well, I still miss him," I muttered just loudly enough for Maya to hear. She instantly glanced up and stared at me for the longest time. I blushed, and apologized again.

"I was wondering when you would admit it," she stated, a half-smile spreading across her face.

"Huh?"

"It's okay to show a little emotion-- that's why we're spending time together, isn't it? To console each other?"

"That's..." I couldn't find the words. Since when did Maya always have the right thing to say? "That's exactly it..."

"Don't be so afraid to tell me how horrible you're feeling. 'Cause, you know, you aren't alone..." Maya smiled. She grabbed her unfinished toast and took a satisfying bite out of it.

After watching her finish off her toast, I mumbled, "Yeah, I actually do feel pretty horrible..."

"Let's talk about it. I bet I feel just as badly as you do."

"Not right now. This isn't a discussion we should be having in the middle of a restaurant."

"Okay..."

"Sorry," I mumbled, trying to ignore the look of deep concern Maya was giving me.

The waitress brought over our bill. I grabbed it before Maya could get out her wallet. She argued with me for a minute about paying her way, but I refused to let her pay one cent.

The rest of the day was spent in Maya's apartment. She didn't feel like doing much-- we watched movies until about five o'clock, ate dinner, then returned to the couch to catch a football game.

Of course, Maya chose the sappiest romance movies to watch. I could barely stomach the ill-conceived plotlines (a man falls in love with a woman, and things are going extremely well until one day, when she suddenly reveals to him that she has a terminal illness and will die in a week). Maya reached for the tissue box at least a thousand times that day.

She found a comfortable spot resting her head against my chest, as we both laid on the couch. I couldn't protest when she practically climbed on top of me-- she was probably thinking I was Wright or something, as disturbing as that sounds... Besides, I was starting to get used to the whole 'physical-contact-with-human-beings' thing. I think it was during the third movie we watched that I started stroking her long, silky hair without giving it a second thought.

One of the movies we watched was particularly sappy. I told Maya I was reluctant about watching such a movie, but Maya assured me it was good-- and then made me feel extremely guilty, explaining that the particular movie we were about to watch reminded her of Wright.

"I wrote you three hundred and sixty-five letters. I wrote you every day, for a year."

"You wrote me?"

"Yes... it wasn't over. It still isn't over..."

I stifled the sob that was about to burst from my mouth. What the hell, Edgeworth, get it together...

"This... is... so... BEAUTIFUL!" Maya cried, almost blowing her nose on my shirt. I looked down at her, watching her wipe her tears on my collar-- my shirt was soaking wet. "Isn't it, Mr. Edgeworth?"

"Yes--" I interrupted myself with the sob that wanted to escape from my lips. "What the hell... I'm crying."

"You're supposed to!" Maya said inbetween sobs. "It's a romance... it makes you feel happier once you let out all the tears."

"What?! I feel like garbage!" I sniffled.

I will never understand women...

By the time that heart-shattering film ended, Maya was a mess. She was sobbing into my shirt just like she was a week earlier-- when we were in that hospital waiting room. I was, at least, somewhat composed, but I still felt a tear or two running down my face as the credits began rolling.

We just sat there, for a while... I didn't want to tell Maya to get up, but she was cutting off my leg's circulation.

"It's one o'clock," I stated indirectly.

"In the morning? Already?" Maya sighed, wiping the last of her tears from her eyes. I could finally feel my leg again as she stood up and began walking down the hallway.

I followed, saying, "Yeah. Are you gonna get to bed now?"
"I guess," Maya stopped in the doorway of her bedroom and said, "Goodnight, Mr. Edgeworth."

"I guess I'll stay here until I know you're asleep. Good night..." With that, I shut the door.

My fingers remained on the doorknob for a few moments as I sighed, wishing there was something more I could say to Maya.

I'm horrible at consoling, I decided as I returned to the living room. Instead of sitting back down on the couch, I walked over to the window. The full moon was shining beautifully above the skyline.

Such a lonely, poetic thing, the moon...

Oh, God, did I actually just think that?

I was really the one who needed consoling. How could I be expected to console someone if I was a mess myself? I was in a rather unpleasant position... so many things were going horribly, horribly wrong at the same time.

I didn't even know Maya that well, and yet, I was spending every waking moment with her. And I was enjoying it... almost a little too much. I was growing attached to her. Maybe it was because I needed comforting; somebody to share my grief with. But, still, it was easy for me to see why Wright fell in love with her-- she was caring, funny, and beautiful, among many other things.

She was way too good for anyone like me to be spending time with...

Not that I could ever tell her how caring, funny, and beautiful I thought she was anyway.

I had to keep telling myself I wasn't spending time with her so that I could replace Wright (or, at least, attempt to)...

I mean, what if I let something a little too amorous slip out of my mouth? Maya might have a mental breakdown, thinking about Wright, and I probably wouldn't talk to her again. And then I'd feel even worse, and even more eager to take her into my arms...

It wasn't even that I specifically loved her. Since Wright died, I fell in love with people, in general.

What the hell? Why did I, all of a sudden, feel the need to love someone, to be loved by someone? I despised humans until about a week and a half ago.

Perhaps my change of heart was a result of how Gumshoe and Wright made me feel-- like I was actually needed somewhere; like I made a difference in someone's life. I also realized, while spending time with those two, that I actually needed them, as pillars of support-- as my close friends, I suppose you could say --as well.

I needed Maya, perhaps as more than friend, but I would never tell her that.

I guess some things are better left unsaid, huh?

That thought lingered with me as I put on my coat and got ready to leave. My hand was on the doorknob when I heard this horrifying scream-- "HEEEEELP!"

I literally jumped, and stumbled abruptly down the hall, knocking into Maya's closed door. I opened it, and saw Maya sitting in her bed, shaking in fear.

"What the hell happened?!" I yelled, rushing to her side.

"I just got this voicemail on my cell phone... from... from... oh...!" Maya whimpered as she buried her face into her blanket. I could only imagine who it was...

"Who?"

"F-Franziska..."

"Oh, Maya..." I hugged her. I seemed to be doing that a lot.

"She said that she was coming to get me, that she would--"

"Wait, what?! She's in jail, Maya."

Maya's eyes widened as she whispered, "I don't think she would let that stop her..."

I grabbed the phone out of her quivering hands. I pressed a few buttons and listened to the message skeptically.

"Hello!? Maya Fey? This is FRANZISKA Von Karma, and I'll have you know that I am NOT going down without a fight-- you'd have to be a fool to think such foolish thoughts! I may have finished your beloved Phoenix Wright off, but I'm not completely finished yet. Oh, no, I still have a few more fools I need to exterminate... one of them being YOU! I'd watch your back if I were you. I'm almost out of here, and once I escape this filthy place, YOU will be my first target, you-- what?!"

I heard two men yelling in the background.

"The guards are after me! But, then again, a few guards have never stopped me from-- excuse me, get your hands OFF of me, sir!"

Although it really wasn't funny, I almost smiled, listening to Franziska being caught trying to escape. I could just see her squirming under the clutches of a few strong police officers.

"Maya Fey, you have not seen the last of me! I swear I'm going to--" With that, the message ended.

I looked at Maya, who was looking at me with such a look of terror in her eyes I thought she was going to faint.

"Maya," I smiled, trying to comfort her, "I don't think you ever have to worry about her coming to get you."

"Did we listen to the same message!?"

"If you were listening closely... she was being caputured by a bunch of security guards. I don't think they'll be taking their eyes off her for a while... there's no way she could get to you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I won't let her."

Maya moved over slightly, allowing a little room for me on the bed. I didn't face her, though; I merely sat on the edge and stared into my lap.

"I feel like such a kid, crying over this," she sighed after a long pause, sinking down under the covers and pulling the comforter up to her ears.

I turned around to face her, reluctantly. I was afraid of what I would say...

I tugged at the comforter that hid her face. Her grip was so strong that I almost had to wrestle her in order to get her to let go. Finally, I pulled at it hard enough to reveal her face... her tear-stained face, that is.

"It breaks my heart watching you cry," I admitted, wiping a tear from her cheek.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Edgeworth... I'm just feeling a little paranoid." She quietly added, "Life's been kind of awful lately..."

"I know what you mean..."

"Why does this kind of stuff happen?"

"What kind of... stuff?" As if I even had to ask.

"All of the stuff that's been making life so awful. The man I love is dead. There is an insane woman out to get me... that kind of stuff."

"Maya, I... I really don't have an answer to that," I relaxed my head against the headboard. After thinking awhile, I added, "I mean, I do, but it's so hard to justify all that's happened with one simple answer."

"What is that answer?"

"You really wanna know?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at Maya. She nodded. Slowly, I said, "Well, I look at it this way... I'm beginning to believe that everything happens for a reason. It's the only answer I can think of that can explain why I've gone through so much trauma throughout my life, and why all this has happened."

"I guess I can see that. So what's the reason?"

"When you came into this city and interrupted my life, it was a real wake-up call. It was the wake-up call that I desperately needed. As much as I wanted to-- needed to, even --I couldn't escape you, or Wright, or Gumshoe, or Franziska. Through Wright's death... I think I've realized what's truly important to me."

"...So what is truly important to you?" Maya questioned quietly.

"Well... making sure I let my closest friends, and everyone important to me, know how much they impact my life... so that I don't make the mistake of losing yet another person I care about."

Maya didn't respond.

"That's why I've been by your side this entire week. If something happened to you, I don't know what I'd--"

"Mr. Edgeworth..."

"I apologize," I sighed. "I kinda started rambling, there."

"I never knew you were such a sensitive guy."

"Me either, to be honest."

By this time, Maya had stopped crying. She sat up, and said, "I think it's really sweet." She rested her head on my shoulder. "You continue to surprise me, Mr. Edgeworth."

"Really?"

"Mmhm."

"...You know, I've been thinking about something."

"And what's that?"

I tried to say something a little more meaningful, but I couldn't find the words. All I could say was, "You don't have to call me 'Mr.' Edgeworth... uhhh. Edgeworth is fine."

Real smooth.

I think Maya realized how completely awkward I was feeling. She smirked and sniffled simultaneously, "I've always thought Edgey suits you quite nicely."

"...Edgey?"

"Yes, Edgey!" Maya actually laughed.

"Maya, that's the first time you've laughed since..."

She gasped. "You're right..."

"You're past the first stage of the grieving process," I mentioned after a moment.

"... What!?" Maya shot me an insulted look, as if I were questioning the legitimacy of her grieving over Wright.

"Uhm, sorry." Her expression softened. I explained myself, "I meant to say that things can only go uphill from here, if you, um, know what I mean. As hard as it is to believe..."

"So what comes after all this?" Maya asked distantly.

My stomach churned at the thought. "Without Wright... I'm not entirely sure."

That didn't mean I was about to start crying pathetically again-- no, I was beyond that. At that point, it was a matter of acceptance, and trying to force myself to act normally again.

Not that I ever was "normal" in the first place. I've been an emotional wreck ever since age nine, when I watched my father die-- and went fifteen years thinking I was the one who killed him. I thought I was somewhat happy for many years, when I was winning cases with the help of false evidence.

My sense of happiness has, and always will be, slightly distorted.

By acting "normally", I meant being able to keep my melodramatic thoughts to myself, to hide my nightmares, and to be able to present myself as a stable person-- a moderately stable person, at least.

Come to think about it, I wasn't sure if I would ever be my "normal", usual self again. My life turned upside down in a matter of days. Four years ago, I thought I was going to live the stable life I'd always dreamed of; I thought I'd left behind everything that made me unstable-- and I couldn't have been more wrong. And, in all honesty, I liked the unstable feelings that I had around Wright, Maya, and Gumshoe-- really, they weren't unstable feelings so much as they were the normal ups and downs of human relationships.

Everything was slowly coming around full-circle. As for what was coming, though... I couldn't exactly tell.

"Edgey?" Maya poked me in the shoulder.

"Huh? Oh... what's next," I shook my head, bringing myself back into reality. "Well, are you going to stay here?"

"I have no idea. I don't have a job to pay for all this... Gumshoe was only helping us move in. He had to go back out wests, so I'm pretty much stuck..."

"That's right," I sympathized. I was trying to suppress the words from my mouth, but they came out anyway. I blurted, "You know, there's an extra room in my apartment--"

"Umm..."

"Sorry. That was sort of forward... I just don't want to see you suffer anymore."

"You're too thoughtful. You'd really do that for me? Because I don't think there'd be enough room..."

"No, there's plenty... Besides, I'm beginning to realize how important it is to make room for the people that matter most to me."

Maya gave me a look as if she were really considering my offer.

"Just until you find your own place, if you want," I added.

"It's very tempting," she yawned, "But I'll sleep on it. I'm exhausted. Good night."

"All right," I got up from the bed. I looked down at Maya, who had already closed her eyes, and said goodnight.

What a night...

I closed the door behind me and walked into the kitchen. Not knowing what to do with myself, I turned on the dim overhead lamp and sat down at the table.

I had to do something. Actually, I had to vent... to write. More importantly, I needed some closure.

It'd been too long since I'd expressed my thoughts on paper. I was amazed by the fact that I hadn't been fired for cutting off all contact with my boss for a couple weeks, really.

I searched for a pad of paper, and found one in a drawer by the telephone. I picked up a pen hiding underneath the stacks of papers shoved into the drawers, and sat back down.

The words I scribbled onto the page were barely legible-- True Friendship, by Miles Edgeworth.

Not to mention the fact that they were godawful. I scratched out those words and tried again.

Nothing inspirational, or moving in the slightest bit, came to mind. I was suffering from a severe case of writer's block.

I tried to think of what had inspired me to pick up that pen in the first place.

It was the conversation I just had with Maya, the time I spent with her yesterday, and the day before that, and what's happened over past few--

Wait a minute...

"Oh, I believe in yesterday..." I sang quietly.

That's just it!

Humming the last few notes of a song that'd been playing in my mind for quite some time, I scrawled out a title: Yesterday.

Immediately, I began writing.

Big, fat raindrops pelted against the window. Someone once said that the sound of rain is soothing-- that it makes one fall asleep. I, personally, find it to be distracting. It was three o'clock in the morning... one of those nights where, as tired as a person is, they just can't seem to fall asleep because of something on their mind.

I guess things would never be the same after the death of my closest friend. How could they be? I felt as if I was an entirely new person... for better or for worse.

It would, of course, take a while to work out the kinks in my flawed personality...

But I wasn't afraid of this daunting task. It was something I was willing to work on... together, with Maya, and everyone else I had so coldly abandoned four years ago.

With a newly-found energy, I got back to work.

That night, something was definitely on my mind...