Wrightworth / Narumistsu One Shots

I Will Always Protect You

I wiped the sweat from my forehead as the hot, summer sun beamed down onto the city streets. Not even the shade from all the large buildings could dampen the heat. It was hot for summer, let alone April.

"I should really get a driver's license," I muttered to myself, practically bathing in my own sweat.

The streets were almost empty, as no one else was stupid enough to go out walking on a day like this. There weren't many other cars either, rush hour having ended an hour or so ago. I could feel the warmth radiating from the sidewalk as I rounded another corner, getting one step closer to my office.

My classic hair spikes were starting to droop, almost as if melting in the sunlight.

As I finally neared the last block, I noticed a small kerfuffle. Many people with cameras - professional and not - standing in a circle. Cars littered the street, parked in every area possible. Curious, I crept closer.

"...from prosecutor von Karma?" I caught the end of one of their sentences.

My eyebrows shot up at the mention of von Karma.

"Were you involved in the falsification of the evidence for the Joe Darke case?" Another cameraman asked.

Joe Darke?

"Can you prove that you've never falsified evidence?"

After peeking over heads and glancing around cameras, I finally catch a glimpse of the man on the receiving end of these weird questions; maroon suit, silver hair, white ascot. There was no mistaking it.

"Edgeworth?" I called, pushing my way through the crowd of people.

He turns, shocked, as does everyone surrounding him, as I shove my way through the crowd. News reporters, angry randoms and teens just looking for a fight. I finally manage to push past the final paparazzo; a buff man holding a Star Wars themed cell-phone. From this perspective, the sight was slightly terrifying. Ten's of people surrounding us, angry and accusing expressions on every one of their faces. Flashing cameras, questions thrown at us from all angles. It was overwhelming, to say the least, and I wasn't even the person being questioned.

...Until I was.

"Phoenix Wright, are you aware that Miles Edgeworth manipulated you into proving his innocence in the DL-6 incident?"

"Do you actually believe Miles Edgeworth was innocent in the Von Karma and DL-6 cases?"

"Miles Edgeworth, did you or did you not fabricate evidence in the SL-9 incident?"

I turned to Edgeworth, who looked like a deer in headlights. Eyes darting around, breathing heavy, unsure who to address first. It was something I never thought I'd see: Miles Edgeworth at a loss for words. My blood boiled at the sight. To think that these people - people who know nothing about him - have surrounded him just to accuse him of something that's already been disproven; something that has haunted him for his entire life.

Without a second thought, I yelled, "Do you have nothing better to do with your lives!"

It wasn't a question. It was an insult, a scorn.

"Wri-Wright..." Edgeworth whispered.

I couldn't tell if it was appreciation or warning in his voice, or maybe just plain fear.

"Miles Edgeworth has to pay for his crimes!" someone called out, which only made me clench my fists tighter.

I would've fought every person there with my own two hands if I had to.

"Miles Edgeworth has accomplished more than all of you combined. He has done nothing wrong!" I retorted.

Gasps rang out and cameras clicked, but I couldn't care less.

"Wright!"

His alarm was evident this time, pressuring me to stop, but I didn't.

"Now leave Miles alone!"

I noticed only later that I had used his first name.

People shouted angrily, stepping forward for a fight only to be held back by other members of the group. As much as they probably wanted to punch me square in the jaw, they knew it wasn't worth it. With much swearing and complaining and slander, the gathering finally cleared.

At last, I turned back to Edgeworth, who was looking at me with such a shocked expression I thought he would pass out.

"Wri- Wright..." he said again, gripping his right arm tightly.

All the anger I was holding suddenly evaporated, tense muscles relaxing. I shuffled over, placing a comforting - and very awkward - hand on his shoulder.

"Ar- are you ok?" I asked, taking in the intoxicating scent of his cologne.

He turns to face me, expression suddenly serious, and angry.

"Of course! I didn't need your help!" he snapped. "Why would you do something like that? It was impulsive, idiotic-"

I chuckled.

His eyebrows furrowed even more, and I could see the confusion mixed into his displeasure.

He didn't understand. Figures. The smartest man I knew couldn't figure it out. Then again, he'd never been that good with feelings. Or "thank yous".

"I will always protect you."

We locked eyes, the butterflies in my stomach squirming like vines, as if trying to burst out of my stomach and into the warm sunlight. I quickly clear my throat and try to break awkward silence.

"Besides, is it really that hard to say 'thank you?'" I asked, feigning a smug smile.

His creased face seemed to detangle as he looked at me, a new wave of surprise hitting him square in the face.

"I- well, that is..." he stuttered, clearly fumbling with his words.

I chuckled again. God he was cute when he was flustered.

"Dork," I muttered, but not quiet enough for Edgeworth to miss.

"Dork?" he demanded, regaining his normal demeanor; calm and confident.

"Dork," I repeated.

My dork.

Edgeworth scowled, but not unkindly. More like a scowl of annoyance.

"Shut up, Wright!" he said, but I could almost hear the fondness in his voice.

I could see the blush creeping into his cheeks, which somehow made him even more handsome.

That's when Edgeworth looked up, and smiled. But not one of those smug prosecutor smiles. It was a genuine, legitimate smile. And I swear my heart almost leaped out of my chest. It looked so good on him. So natural, so perfect.

Right then and there, I knew, that I would keep my promise:

"I will always protect you."