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The note was short. Five words that had effectively ended my life as I knew it, :
"Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death."
I quiely sat on top of my bed, rubbing the tired skin under my eyes. In the small mirror on my nightstand, my eyes, one blue, one brown looked back at me, bloodshot and hollow.. Well, we hadn't officially ended things. Not with a conversation, but when your partner leaves a suicide note and vanishes, "broke up" Feels like a pretty generous way of putting it.
"Was it me?" I asked the empty room. "Did I do something wrong?"
My chest felt heavy. I couldn't just sit here in silence. I needed to do something, to clear my mind.
︵︵︵ ๑ ? ๑ ︵︵︵
I tried to tap into my college roots the next morning. I was an art major once, before that trial. Then suddenly, I threw my entire life away to follow him into a courtroom. I set up a canvas on my balcony, the one that looked out over a city, I saw buildings, cars honking, and people taking a stroll along the sidewalk,
I knew color theory-light sources, lineweight, and anatomy. But the second I started, every stroke of the pencil felt like a mistake. Every curve of the pencil turned into the sharp fancy-looking edgeworth I once knew. Every shadow I blended looked like the edge of a burgundy blazer.
"God dammit," I hissed, dropping the pencil. "This is just a waste of time."
That wasn't the real reason.
︵︵︵ ๑ ? ๑ ︵︵︵
Then came the baking. Maya had basically kicked my door down at 4 AM, dragging a grumpy Franziska and.. Well, Larry behind her.
"NICK!!! We’re making cupcakes!" Maya declared, I haven't agreed or heard a word about this in advance. Although, reluctantly, I gave in.
The kitchen turned into a war zone. I actually found myself smiling for a second, I watched Larry accidentally set a batch of cupcakes on fire.. We had to restart. It was the distraction I was looking for. I made dozens of cupcakes and cookies aswell!
"You’re surprisingly skilled at this department, Phoenix Wright," Franziska , though she was busy whipping the frosting like she was preparing a tampered witness testimony, "For a foolishly foolish fool like you."
"Thanks Fran!" I exclaimed, before dodging a handful of flour Maya threw at me.
Somehow, I only got whipped twice this whole baking session, new record! I thought to myself.
But as the sugar and laughter faded and they all left, I looked at my wrecked kitchen, baking was fine, but it was too messy.
︵︵︵ ๑ ? ๑ ︵︵︵
Writing was supposed to be easy. I was a lawyer; I wrote briefs, statements, so I grabbed a simple notebook one I’d bought months ago and never touched and sat at my desk.
I just wanted to journal. Just a brain dump to get the thoughts out. I wrote the letter 'M' and stopped. The curve of the letter was too elegant. It looked like the way he signed his name. I tried to write 'Every,' but the 'E' looked like his initials. Every word I formed felt like a ghost of his handwriting. Even the way the ink bled into the paper reminded me of the fountain pen he used to use. I slammed the notebook shut. Writing wasn't an escape. It just.. I let out a sigh, then shoved the notebook into a corner, leaving it to collect dust.
︵︵︵ ๑ ? ๑ ︵︵︵
"Here, Nick! I found these at the store! Maybe u can make a bracelet for me?" Maya had dumped a plastic bin of beads onto my desk, which startled me. Apparently, she was into friendship bracelets this week.
I sighed and picked up a piece of elastic string. I tried to focus on the bright, purple colors, Maya’s favorites. But then, my fingers brushed against a set of deep maroon beads. They were polished and expensive-looking. Amazing. Right next to them were some grey beads.
I picked up a single, pearl-white bead. It was refined. It was perfect. It was him.
"Everything okay, Nick? You're staring at that bead like it's a suspicious witness," Maya said, her voice muffled by a mouthful of a burger.
"Yeah," I lied, my thumb tracing the surface of the bead. "Just trying to find the correct color."
I dropped the string. The beads dropped to the ground, it turns out you couldn't even make a fucking bracelet without the universe remiding you of the man who chose death.
..And my back hurts. Ouch..!
︵︵︵ ๑ ? ๑ ︵︵︵
A few days later, I found myself at a local nursery. I needed a little place, dedicated to the plants I got. A place where I didn't feel like the walls of my apartment were closing in on me.
I told the lady at the counter, "Maybe something… I don’t know. A surprise?"
She handed me a cool looking packet! 10 seeds in each pack. "Mystery seeds!" Before she stared at me with an all-too knowing look, "Its in it's peak during these type of months."
I spent the afternoon in my apartment, digging into the dirt. I planted them in a neat little row!
?
After a few days, curiosity got the best of me.
I went back inside and finally decided to look up what I had actually put in the ground. I pulled up a trustable looking site and typed in the description of the packet, and how the seeds behaved,
The page loaded. My heart dropped into my stomach.
Plant Name: Edgeworthia Chrysanthemums.
I stood there frozen, my phone sliping from my hand onto the desk.
Edgeworthias?
The universe was cruel, even mocking. I had tried to escape the name, the man, the memory and I had literally planted a garden of plants with his name..
The weight on my chest returned, sharper than ever. I slumped onto my desk, the mask I wore for Maya finally cracking.
I wasn't a hero or a legendary lawyer. I was just a guy with two-colored eyes and a partner who 'killed' himself, sobbing into a wood desk over a plant name.
"Why did you leave?" I mumbled, "You fucking asshole," What am I supposed to do without you?"