[Fic] [Phoenix Wright] Randomly Edgeworth Anggggst
I wrote this a year ago, actually. A 20 facts-lines-paragraphs-points-whatever for Edgeworth---though, in this case, it's 'Mitsurugi'. I realize they're pretty much interchangeable, but the game actually made a bit more sense in Japanese, so it gets stuck there.
1. We see the world in a way no other have seen, look, this is our world, the space between my side and yours a vast ocean to be crossed. Truths and lies said on this stage is like our vows. Look at this world now, and tell me this isn't the only thing we see.
2. "That clock needs rewinding," Mitsurugi said, one hand under his chin, an apparent act of thinking that fooled just about everyone who talked to him.
3. Ikura. Salmon eggs. He liked it served in sushi, and always with a large dash of wasabi. Naruhodou himself found it hard to swallow that much of the stuff.
4. When he looks out of the 747 window, classical music streaming in a world turning from day to night, only one thought raced through his mind. Prosecutor Mitsurugi Reiji chose death. Starting over again holds no more terror for him.
5. Old bookstores in London range from the untidy normal to the meticulously arranged. Walking between some of those venerable old texts, Mitsurugi felt like he was walking in another time, a gas-lit London filled with the sound of horse-drawn carriages and kerosene burning in private studies. Among hundreds upon hundreds of penny novels and insignificant gossip he found old law books, layers and layers of dust between its page, the tiny print spelling out the code of their language. At the time, he felt like he was in a much-rumored secret garden, a place only known to the night and the clanging of a forgotten clock.
6. Summer days are the best for preponderances. The sky is clear, the sun is bright, the color blue spreads like a walkway on still canals. There was no obstruction between the sky of here and there, and he found it to be a perfect time to ask his question : Who are you, and why were you there at the time, of all places?
7. He didn’t know what to think of the word 'love'. Logic dictated that it was there in some form or another, when he considered the situated hard enough. However, romance in its known forms were made up of chocolates, flowers, and seaside dates in summertime. Love had nothing to do with seventeen years of hatred and broken promises, nor seventeen years of waiting and loyalty, nothing to do with seventeen years of thought. Law was made of rules and exceptions. He could find none to fit a single sentence in his mind. It was only when he was staring at a cheap reproduction of the Mona Lisa that he realised how simpled it all was : love was not a word, it was like a painting, and like the Mona Lisa, you can reproduce it without ever being quite sure what it was.
8. Mitsurugi's college halls were far older than the laws he studied, and he walked there step by step thinking of students in ages past, strolling beneath the same roof and arguing the same principles for the same justice. There was nothing new under the sun, they said. He wondered if the halls had seen other versions of himself before, prosecutors and lawyers looking for another meaning to their trade. In his crumpled letters he said as much, and he took them to the burnable trash receptacle every Wednesday or so.
9. Karuma Gou had taught him to have explicit trust. His father had said a lawyer's job is to believe the innocence of his client. In that case, Prosecutor Karuma said, their job was to believe the findings of their coworkers, believe in the guilt of the accused. Evidence presented to him by the detectives in the force were not to be questioned, they were absolute facts, and words had nothing in the face of facts. A lawyer would try to lie his way out of the truth. A prosecutor's job was to prove it. Karuma Gou had said nothing about the truth being something apart from victories and losses.
10. Contrary to popular belief, Mitsurugi was not fluent in English. He could read and write as well as he needed to read foreign law books, as his mentor would have it, but his speech was stilted, accent, and awkward. It took sometime for him to figure out how to ask for a pair of chopsticks when shopping in the Asian market in London.
11. On occasion he thought back to the melodramatic gesture he left behind. Mitsurugi Reiji chose death. He wondered what that meant for everyone involved, if they dreamed of him, walking into the sea like lovers often do. He wondered if they dreamed of his tragic death, if they mourned his passing, if they patted each other on the shoulder and said, You did all you could do, it was his choice, his choice, all we could do is mourn him. He wondered if any of them would know him well enough. He wondered about Naruhodou. He wondered if they would celebrate his death.
12. Karuma Mei : A sister, of sorts. He lifted his eyebrows at the moment someone mentioned the papers, Genius Prosecutor Karuma Went To Japan On Personal Agenda. For a moment he chuckled. Naruhodou would never know what hit him.
13. Rainy days are seldom good for anything but reading time, and the fact that there's often a rainbow arching overhead.
14. It was the first time in his life when he was not ultimately concerned with getting a perfect score : Prosecutor Mitsurugi Reiji was dead, Ordinary Mitsurugi Reiji learns from his mistakes.
15. If there is someone I consider more important than myself, it's never going to be anyone you know.
16. A nightmare was only a nightmare. However, having ascertained that doesn't mean the nightmare would ever end. He still saw dreams in the air, a dark elevator and one precious instant of unforgettable noise.
17. This is the first time I've taken a good look at you. Where are all the tears now, and where do you stand, whose side are you on?
18. I can't stop running. If I stop and look back, all I'd see would be those emptry tracks, footprints fading in the sand. If I stop then all is lost, and asking questions is about as good as stopping. Hatred goes on. Any reason to keep on running is as good as any.
19. Maybe Naruhodou thinks he'll be the one to save him. Maybe sometimes nothing needs to be saved.
20. He missed Japan. He missed the air, the smell of roasted squid in autumn festivals, the way everyone walked around with suits and embarrassing vapid pop tunes played on screens as big as the courthouse. He missed the 'stop' kanji written on road junctions, the old ramen shops still clinging to the old style, and toilets that flushed themselves. He missed companionship most of all. Over there he had Pess. Over here he was alone.
1. We see the world in a way no other have seen, look, this is our world, the space between my side and yours a vast ocean to be crossed. Truths and lies said on this stage is like our vows. Look at this world now, and tell me this isn't the only thing we see.
2. "That clock needs rewinding," Mitsurugi said, one hand under his chin, an apparent act of thinking that fooled just about everyone who talked to him.
3. Ikura. Salmon eggs. He liked it served in sushi, and always with a large dash of wasabi. Naruhodou himself found it hard to swallow that much of the stuff.
4. When he looks out of the 747 window, classical music streaming in a world turning from day to night, only one thought raced through his mind. Prosecutor Mitsurugi Reiji chose death. Starting over again holds no more terror for him.
5. Old bookstores in London range from the untidy normal to the meticulously arranged. Walking between some of those venerable old texts, Mitsurugi felt like he was walking in another time, a gas-lit London filled with the sound of horse-drawn carriages and kerosene burning in private studies. Among hundreds upon hundreds of penny novels and insignificant gossip he found old law books, layers and layers of dust between its page, the tiny print spelling out the code of their language. At the time, he felt like he was in a much-rumored secret garden, a place only known to the night and the clanging of a forgotten clock.
6. Summer days are the best for preponderances. The sky is clear, the sun is bright, the color blue spreads like a walkway on still canals. There was no obstruction between the sky of here and there, and he found it to be a perfect time to ask his question : Who are you, and why were you there at the time, of all places?
7. He didn’t know what to think of the word 'love'. Logic dictated that it was there in some form or another, when he considered the situated hard enough. However, romance in its known forms were made up of chocolates, flowers, and seaside dates in summertime. Love had nothing to do with seventeen years of hatred and broken promises, nor seventeen years of waiting and loyalty, nothing to do with seventeen years of thought. Law was made of rules and exceptions. He could find none to fit a single sentence in his mind. It was only when he was staring at a cheap reproduction of the Mona Lisa that he realised how simpled it all was : love was not a word, it was like a painting, and like the Mona Lisa, you can reproduce it without ever being quite sure what it was.
8. Mitsurugi's college halls were far older than the laws he studied, and he walked there step by step thinking of students in ages past, strolling beneath the same roof and arguing the same principles for the same justice. There was nothing new under the sun, they said. He wondered if the halls had seen other versions of himself before, prosecutors and lawyers looking for another meaning to their trade. In his crumpled letters he said as much, and he took them to the burnable trash receptacle every Wednesday or so.
9. Karuma Gou had taught him to have explicit trust. His father had said a lawyer's job is to believe the innocence of his client. In that case, Prosecutor Karuma said, their job was to believe the findings of their coworkers, believe in the guilt of the accused. Evidence presented to him by the detectives in the force were not to be questioned, they were absolute facts, and words had nothing in the face of facts. A lawyer would try to lie his way out of the truth. A prosecutor's job was to prove it. Karuma Gou had said nothing about the truth being something apart from victories and losses.
10. Contrary to popular belief, Mitsurugi was not fluent in English. He could read and write as well as he needed to read foreign law books, as his mentor would have it, but his speech was stilted, accent, and awkward. It took sometime for him to figure out how to ask for a pair of chopsticks when shopping in the Asian market in London.
11. On occasion he thought back to the melodramatic gesture he left behind. Mitsurugi Reiji chose death. He wondered what that meant for everyone involved, if they dreamed of him, walking into the sea like lovers often do. He wondered if they dreamed of his tragic death, if they mourned his passing, if they patted each other on the shoulder and said, You did all you could do, it was his choice, his choice, all we could do is mourn him. He wondered if any of them would know him well enough. He wondered about Naruhodou. He wondered if they would celebrate his death.
12. Karuma Mei : A sister, of sorts. He lifted his eyebrows at the moment someone mentioned the papers, Genius Prosecutor Karuma Went To Japan On Personal Agenda. For a moment he chuckled. Naruhodou would never know what hit him.
13. Rainy days are seldom good for anything but reading time, and the fact that there's often a rainbow arching overhead.
14. It was the first time in his life when he was not ultimately concerned with getting a perfect score : Prosecutor Mitsurugi Reiji was dead, Ordinary Mitsurugi Reiji learns from his mistakes.
15. If there is someone I consider more important than myself, it's never going to be anyone you know.
16. A nightmare was only a nightmare. However, having ascertained that doesn't mean the nightmare would ever end. He still saw dreams in the air, a dark elevator and one precious instant of unforgettable noise.
17. This is the first time I've taken a good look at you. Where are all the tears now, and where do you stand, whose side are you on?
18. I can't stop running. If I stop and look back, all I'd see would be those emptry tracks, footprints fading in the sand. If I stop then all is lost, and asking questions is about as good as stopping. Hatred goes on. Any reason to keep on running is as good as any.
19. Maybe Naruhodou thinks he'll be the one to save him. Maybe sometimes nothing needs to be saved.
20. He missed Japan. He missed the air, the smell of roasted squid in autumn festivals, the way everyone walked around with suits and embarrassing vapid pop tunes played on screens as big as the courthouse. He missed the 'stop' kanji written on road junctions, the old ramen shops still clinging to the old style, and toilets that flushed themselves. He missed companionship most of all. Over there he had Pess. Over here he was alone.