Limits of Perfection

Chapter 5:

Perfection's Downfall

Author's note: Okay…you know the drill. I don't own Phoenix Wright games or characters…and if I did, I'd be swimming in my own pool of money (which would be shaped like a dollar bill!)

To my reviewers!

Jade: Ah! Eight out of ten! Yay!

As the elevator progressed slowly downwards, Miles began to talk. His voice was soft at first, but as he became more and more at ease with telling the story to Phoenix, he let more emotion slip into his words. One thing was clear: It was obvious to the defense attorney that Miles cared a great deal about Franziska. Even before the story had been told, Phoenix had already come to that assumption.

"…I…I don't know anymore…" Miles completed his long story, as he walked out of the elevator once the doors opened to reveal the first floor. "…I just can't tell…does she even remember me? That's the phrase I ask myself every morning when I walk in to help bandage her wound. Every morning now, since…it happened…I keep telling myself that today would be the day she'd finally say my name…but it hasn't…and I don't know if it ever will be."

For the longest time, Phoenix stood there, letting the elevator doors close behind him while looking at Miles with keen interest and surprise. "Miles…I can tell this is affecting you a great deal." He replied slowly and calculatingly.

"…you just took a thirteen floor ride down an elevator…and you didn't even think about it."

This revelation surprised the prosecutor, and he looked back at Phoenix with wide eyes, before turning to look at the elevator in disbelief. "I-I just..." Miles stammered, starting to clam up a little bit at the thought of him actually riding an elevator again. Phoenix cursed himself inwardly and walked over to Miles...or at least, that's what he was trying to do...until Miles dashed away, towards the outside steps of the courthouse and into his car. The defense attorney could only watch helplessly as the silver-haired man drove away in a hurry...no doubt back to his apartment.

'Sorry...'

Sobbing. That was the only word Franziska could use to describe the sound she heard. She cocked her head slightly, curious as to where the sound was coming from and why it was even occuring. At first, using her reasoning, she figured the television in the living room must have been left on to some daytime soap opera. When she went to check, however, she found that this was not the case. Perplexed, the German woman headed back to the room she designated as her own in this apartment, when she found the source of the crying. In the bathroom, sitting up against the blue-gray tiles on the wall, was Miles Edgeworth. His knees were brought up against his chest and he had his face buried against them while his whole body shook with his visible weakness.

She didn't know why she felt so strongly now. Franziska von Karma, for the first time since she had awoken from her surgery in Hotti Clinic, was beginning to get a surge of confusion as blanks and dark shadows crossed her mind. It was, perhaps, the first time that she ever realized that she was missing something...that something being her memory. Why else would she feel such compassion for a man who, in her eyes, every day looked upon her as a routine chore when he bandaged her wound? Slowly, Franziska knelt down in front of Miles, to his level, and brushed a strand of silver hair from his face, before wrapping her good arm around him in an awkward hug. There were so many things that seemed right to say to him, but she was hesitant. These words...they seemed so odd, yet they made perfect sense somehow. And so, for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Franziska von Karma spoke up.

"...was it an earthquake?"

The words sounded so foreign on her tongue, but from the way he looked at her, she knew she must have said something right. Miles dried his eyes instantaneously and looked up at Franziska after she spoke. He relaxed a little, loosening his tight grip on his knees, while a tiny look of disbelief formed on his face. "Phoenix...pushed me into an elevator...in order to escape the media." he stated in a scoffing tone of voice. "Oh." Franziska replied softly, not sure why he was upset about an elevator. She looked away, only to have Miles gently turn her face back towards him. "Franziska..." he pushed away several strands of hair from her face, gathering up his hope and his courage.

"Do you remember me?"

At that moment, his face would be forever burned into her mind. So hopeful...so eager...she'd never forget how he looked. But what could she say? In her mind, he triggered something, yes. She'd seen his form before, but only as a dark shape. In days following her awakening from her injury, she had moments where she swore that she knew who this man was...and why she felt so comfortable with him. And just as his name would be on the tip of her tongue, she would lose it again and fall further into the blank spaces in her mind. She didn't want to hurt him. Franziska knew that, for some reason or another, this man was important in her life...and he valued her greatly just as she did him...but for the life of her, she couldn't say who he was. She just didn't know.

"I'm sorry...but I just...I don't...I don't know who you are..."

Just as she had suspected, it came to him as a crushing blow. Miles let his hands fall into his lap, and his silver locks of hair covered his eyes as his head slumped down. Franziska stood up and brushed something imaginary off of her, not sure what to do to ease the awkward tension. "...I just know...that I feel safe with you." she murmured, looking down at Miles' form, before walking away.

Date:???

Time:???

Place:???

The phone rang a total of three times before someone picked up on the other end. The voice that answered had that sort of greasy, slimy, used car salesman type of voice that just oozed over the phone and made it completely distinguishable to the person on the other end of the phone conversation.

"Ah...Herr Volker...I had a feeling you would be calling..."

"Stop scaring me! You haven't updated me since...I..."

"Since you ordered the hit?"

"SHH! Don't say that! These phones are-"

"Monitered? I doubt that, but you're making more of a scene, acting like the imbecile you are."

There was a momentary pause before Herr Volker started talking again.

"...so...did you...?"

"What do you take me for?! A novice?"

"N-no! I just wanted to make sure-"

"It's been taken care of."

"So she's dead?"

"It's been taken care of! Now...about my-"

"I want proof."

"...I beg your pardon?"

"I want proof! Don't you get it? I want proof that Franziska von Karma is dead! No proof, no money!"

"...do you get the newspaper?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

"...You'll get your proof. Contact me when you see it."

The phone was hung up with a loud slam. A man removed his dark sunglasses, and tossed them over his pad of paper and press pass before grinning maniacally.