Ace Attorney One-Shots

Voicemail

"I can't do this anymore. I'm just so...so tired, Wright."

Miles was hunched over his phone in the kitchen of his luxurious apartment located on the second floor.

The one on the phone was none other than his childhood friend, Phoenix Wright.

Pess was pawing at the entry door, trying to get in. Her owner was in a bad mood, and she needed to comfort him like she always managed to do.

Miles let out a short breath to try and calm down as he clicked his briefcase shut. "I-I know this sounds r-" He swallowed, trying to keep a steady voice, "Ridiculous." His hands were shaking, he could barely even hold his phone. Look at him. He was such a mess.

He somehow found the courage to nudge Pess aside as she rubbed her nose against his leg. She was such a good girl, she didn't deserve such a screw up as himself. He ran his hand over her amber fur, for the last time before he left through the front door, locking it behind him. He'll miss her bright eyes, and her wet nose, and the way she looked when he gave her a treat. He hoped she'd miss him too.

"But...I need for you to look after P-Pess." His voice, for the first time since he got home from the court case, cracked. He was leaving for a long time. What kind of owner would he be if he left her on her own, wondering when he would come home to the empty and cold apartment.

Miles clutched his elbow, a nervous habit he developed. His car ran over a speed bump, causing him to lose his words for the moment. He considered himself to be quite loquacious, but now it seemed he was a bumbling fool.

A small sad smile flashed onto his face. Franziska. What would she think of him?

Her annoying 'little' brother, the one who took part of her spot light away when he was taken in by her father. The father He helped put in jail.

His jaw tensed as he continued his small apology speech, "I apolog-gize for all the wrong doings I have committed i-in the past," His voice then trembled, "I am just a demon prosecutor, while you are s-so much better." He winced at the pathetic mess that turned out to be, "I shouldn't be there to try and take that a-away from you."

He was pathetic.

Here he was, having a mental break down over just the last few months. He wasn't deemed a murderer, and he was able to free Lana Skye from the evil that was Damon Gant.

No.

He didn't do any of those things. Miles was the one who objected to his innocence. He was the one who made things that much harder for Phoenix. He was the one who prosecuted against his superior. He was the one who presented false evidence.

He was the one who was too much of a coward to face the everything he had done.

Miles Edgeworth was not a good man, and those actions proved it.

He held his hand up to his cheek and felt tears had been streaming down his face. Oh. He had been crying.

His breathing stopped. Crying is for the weak. For the ones who cannot control their emotions.

Miles leaned forward while clutching his gray hair, in an attempt to steady himself to continue on with his message.

"I-I must be going now...please...do try and forgive me." He got out of his car once he parked it in the dimly lit garage that he had done so many times before.

The parking lot where The dead corpse of that detective laid. Rotting.

The time was half past 1:00am, he would be mildly surprised if anyone were there. Though, the law firm to which he worked had many dedicated souls that stayed much past the required hours. He closed the door behind him before faltering, leaning back against the car's side. His small burst of energy left him at that moment.

He took a shaky breath in, then nearly choked on his words. "Y-You were always a beacon of light. And now I won't be there to dull it." Miles smiled sadly at what he had just said, then stepped the elevator, clicking the 12th floor button. It was the first time he had done this since that day. He unconsciously gripped the handle bar behind him in a small sense of panic. His breath hitched in his throat, but he still continued on.

The ones in the wrong had to be punished, or so he had been taught. His one mentor pounded it into his brain year after year. Even now in prison, his words echoed in Miles' head, like a curse.

"As I had said before, you always gave me such...unnecessary feelings. Feelings I once wished to never experience."

He closed his office door behind him with a 'click'.

"I must thank you for that."

He sat down at his desk while pulling out a piece of paper from his drawer, a pen in hand.

"Good bye, Phoenix."

With that, he stopped talking. A small prerecorded message played.

"To save your message, press 1. To delete, press 2."

His finger wavered over the one before ultimately pressing 2.

On his desk, he wrote a very simple letter before leaving for, what he hoped to be, good.

'Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death'