Work Text:
Ema hated prosecutors who, simply because they held a position higher than hers, acted as if they were superior. The glimmerous fop was certainly the worst example of this, but unfortunately, not the only. There was also Nayuta Sadmahdi.
Initially, Ema had been sure that Nayuta hated her just as much as she hated Nayuta, after all, Ema didn’t exactly agree with the other woman’s definition of “justice.”
(And, it seems she has a complicated relationship with an entirely different Justice, one who Ema would consider herself quite close with.)
Yet, when she had come to Ema with the suggestion of traveling abroad with her… well, who was Ema to say no to an all-expenses-paid trip around the world?
She was humbled very quickly. Prosecutor Sadmahdi was intelligent, yes, but she also didn’t understand American, European, or… well, any other culture, it seemed. Ema spent a lot of time teaching Nayuta about basic pop culture and proper etiquette, and at times it felt more like babysitting than a work trip.
“So… in America, it is customary to eat burgers with one's hands?”
Ema doesn’t get paid enough for this. “Yes, Prosecutor Sadmahdi.” She says with a sigh. European culture, when it came down to it, wasn’t too different from America’s. Maybe this was a biased opinion— after all, she did spend a lot of time with Europeans— but she so often forgets how different things were in foreign countries.
Khura’in culture in particular made no sense to Ema. But, hey, who was she to judge?
For starters, they were insanely proper. Ema had been with her fair share of pretentious Germans, all of whom seemed to act like public service employees should treat them like royalty, but Nayuta wasn’t like that. If anything, she treated Ema like she was royalty.
For example, the first time Nayuta had met Ema, she had run into her at the precinct whilst printing a file. Nayuta had held the door open for her entry and had even remained in her position to hold it open for Ema’s exit, despite obviously being in a rush.
“Thank you,” Ema had said. She had never seen the face before, but it was nice to be treated like more than detective scum from time to time.
To which Nayuta had replied, “It’s my pleasure.”
These little mannerisms extended throughout their time abroad. If Ema moved to open a door for herself, Nayuta was instantly at her side to hold it open. If Ema moved to pull out a chair to sit in, Nayuta was swatting her hand away and pulling it out for her. If Ema were simply moving to stand, Nayuta would hold her hand out to help her up.
“Why would you eat a burger with your hands?” She asks.
(Right. Nayuta was trying to comprehend finger food.)
Ema shrugs. “Why wouldn’t you? Look, I’m not here to judge. If you insist on eating your burger with a fork and knife, fine. Just don’t complain when you get weird looks.”
That was another thing. Ema had never felt so completely at ease with anyone, not like this. Of course, she had friends she felt comfortable with; Apollo and Phoenix weren’t the judging kind. But when it came to Franziska, Ema had constantly felt inadequate. When it came to Klavier, she was always competing. When it came to Kay, her heart felt stuck in her throat. When it came to Maya, well, things weren’t serious enough for feelings to be involved.
But she was completely at ease with Nayuta. She was free to eat whatever she wanted, dress however she pleased, speak in any way she wanted— in fact, Nayuta encouraged her to share her opinions.
Ema watches as Nayuta, with a betrayed look in her eyes, picks the burger up and takes a bite.
It clicked for her now, at such an obscure moment, that maybe she had been falling in love with Nayuta. After all, she had never been on the same level as Apollo or Athena. She never came close to falling in line with Phoenix or Edgeworth, but Ema had always compared her to the likes of Franziska, Klavier, and Kay.
Had always compared her to her past relationships, and yet none came close to the way Nayuta made her feel. Because her heart wasn’t stuck in her throat, she wasn’t competing; her worth wasn’t determined by the way she spoke or the way she acted.
They were simply two people, on the same level, who were working to better each other and learn more about the world around them.
“Are you finished?” Nayuta asks, intending to finish off Ema’s fries if she wouldn’t.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. They’re yours.”
“You Americans also eat your potatoes with your hands?”
“Nah. Just fries.”
“...How peculiar.”
Ema wondered now if the little acts of courtesy Nayuta had been performing had been for the sake of her. Had Nayuta been smitten this entire time?
“I do believe our business here is done.” She says, rising. Ema has long since resigned herself to staying in place, waiting for Nayuta to offer a hand or open a door. Like clockwork, Nayuta offers a hand for Ema to take, and she does so graciously.
“You don’t have to be so proper, y’know,” Ema says as Nayuta opens the door. “You can drop the act.”
“You deserve to be waited on.”
Ema flushes at that. Had she seriously been this dense? Nayuta had been saying anecdotes like that for weeks .
“How do you guys do dating in Khura’in?” Ema asks. They were on their way back to a local precinct to learn more about this state’s legal system.
Nayuta shrugs. “I wouldn’t know.”
“You don’t have a special someone back home?”
“Of course not! My work is much too important for that.”
(Sounds like another prosecutor Ema knows…)
Despite Nayuta’s words, the two were awfully close, and if they really wanted to, their hands were close enough to intertwine.
“Too important? I mean, you don’t want to date at all?”
“This is a work trip, Detective Skye. Please do not forget we have serious matters to attend to.”
Ema knew she wasn’t going to get anywhere like this. If there was one thing she had learned from Lana’s dating experience, it was that if you really wanted to be with someone, you should try. Life was far too short to convince fate that you belong together.
That was another thing, Lana’s creed about fate was bullshit. She had learned years ago that you create your own fate.
“Prosecutor Sadmahdi?”
“Detective Skye.”
Ema stands on her tippy-toes and kisses Nayuta on the cheek, lingering for a moment.
“...I see,” Nayuta says.
She takes Ema’s hand in her own, and this time, she doesn’t let go.