Chapter Text
Ema wasn't a happy girl. No, not at all. In fact, she was not trusting of anyone, and was deeply invested in her work. Much to her ignorance - she had unknowingly become her sister, Lana, over time.
You just can't trust people, Ema. Her sister's melodic voice hummed in her ears as she frantically typed on her computer to finish the most recent of autopsy reports. Lana was right. You couldn't trust anyone, because they'd always try to hurt you. Yes. So you must make a barrier between yourself and others. It's the only way to succeed and stay alive - with your dignity intact.
The loud tapping of keys grew softer, the fluorescent light from the aged screen monitor were bothering Ema's eyes, but she had to finish this... it was due the next day.
Not like she was scared of deadlines or anything. That glimmerous fop didn't stand a chance against her if it really came down to the wire. She just needed to hand it in so the court preceding would run smoothly, not to impress anyone or anything. Lana blushed - although she wasn't sure why. Was it the thought of impressing someone? ... Heaven forbid the glimmerous fop.
After another hour of typing, Ema clicked the Print button and turned off the lousy computer desktop. Her eyes grazed over the rich 100% bio-degradable (of course) paper as she read over her work, before slapping a staple on the corner and throwing it into a cerulean blue folder in the "court case" filing of the autopsy room. Some bailiff or prosecutor would come pick it up.
Grazing her hand across the metallic cabinets as she walked past them towards the door, she saw Edgeworth's unmistakable cravat and burgundy suit emerge, looking up with thoughtful eyes behind his glasses.
"Hello, Ema. How are you?" He asked smiling, although Ema could tell his niceties only extended as far as a greeting - he did not really care how she was. I just finished a 40 page report in 2 hours... you?
"I'm fine, thanks. What are you doing here?" Ema asked warily, her eyes flashing to the brown binder in his hand.
Miles suavely put his hands behind his back - the binder with them. "Looking and reminiscing about old cases. I believe you're on your way out?" Miles's expression was still serious, he was holding the door open with his shoulder and foot now, a clear motion for Ema to leave.
"Bye." Ema's voice was barely above a mumble, she was tired of all this secrecy surrounding some of Edgeworth's cases. I can't believe I used to... like that guy.
Ema turned the corner of the police station towards where the detectives sat. She spotted Klavier's irritating outfit and hair... leaning on one leg and jutting his hip out like some pop star. "Gavin," Ema acknowledged as she walked past him, avoiding all eye contact. "Ah! Fraulein, one moment please." Klavier's voice was thick with... humor?
"I hope you've finished that report?" Klavier's smile was gentle and understanding as he looked at Ema with a condescending gaze. First of all, I'm older than you, jerk - Second of all, your smile is so fake, if I didn't have it done you wouldn't be happy.
"Finished."
"Oh." Klavier's eyes widened in surprise. "I-"
"What?"
"I thought you hadn't started..."
"Why would you think that?" Ema asked, irritated. Her gaze was wandering elsewhere now - the computers nearby, the cracked linoleum floor, the rugged desks.
"I just heard."
"Well, I doubt I could finish a forty page report in a couple hours, now could I?" Ema laughed mockingly. Little does the asshole know that's exactly what I did.
"J-ja, I guess..." Klavier trailed off scratching his head.
She allowed herself to glance at his face for a moment. But that moment was all she needed to feel that weird butterfly feeling in her stomach. The way his face was so pure and innocent... Although I'm sure he's far from that, the dirty pig. Ema shook her head, looking down. "Bye, then."
"Goodbye, Fraulein!" Klavier's tone became more upbeat as he applied his fake persona. Can the fop just realize real life isn't one big show? How does he still have a job!?
Pushing past him, Lana decided to go get some fresh air, maybe grab a milkshake or something. The police station was too stifling, with all the self-proclaimed hotshots wandering around. It was a wonder they even got any work done, since they spent all their time talking about themselves.
"Ema!?" A loud voice sounded behind her, raspy and almost a pain to the eardrum.
Oh boy, one character after another.
"Ema. Hey," Apollo appeared to her side, out of breath as grinned.
"Hey, Justice." Ema retained her formality.
"Aw, you're such a prude."
"A prude!?" Ema instinctively reached into her pocket for her snackoos. Certainly a prude wouldn't eat snackoos!!! "I'm just kidding! But seriously, lighten up. Is something up?" Apollo's huge brown eyes studies hers, his eyelashes hitting his cheeks gently when he blinked.
Ema rolled her eyes. "Nothing you know about."
"Test me."
"What's a nuclear fission reaction?" Ema stopped and turned to him, shouting through a mouthful of the crunchy snack.
"Aw, come on, don't be like that."
Ema closed her eyes patronizingly. "W-ell, Mr. Justice, you are not worthy of my knowledge."
Apollo laughed and reached his hand into her snackoo bag.
"Ew! What are you doing, you weirdo? Are your hands even clean?" Ema snapped the bag out of his reach.
Apollo held up a single snackoo and grinned. "Got one."
"You!" Ema shook her fist at him.
"I'll see you later Ema - but when I do, you have to tell me what's wrong!"
Ema ignored him and kept walking as he split off and went the other direction.
Keep dreaming, boy.