Phoenix bit his lip as he gently pushed the immaculate glass double-door behind him until it softly clicked, indicating to him that it was, indeed, closed. The defence attorney blankly stared at the street which had just presented itself in front of his startled body, bearing the heavy weights of dozens of people - whom were scattered about the place like the inhabitants of a nest of ants - as they went about their day, casually strolling by in a relaxed manner; chatting, smiling and laughing under the sun's dizzyingly bright rays tickling their cheeks. The spiky-haired man would have felt overwhelmed by the scene - if the drug would have allowed him to feel anything other than the constant, pounding, headache stirring in the depths of his mind.
"No!" A glimmering, brown-haired woman surrounded by a faint, blurry, heatwave shrieked into her smartphone with a joking tone as she continued to stroll by with a large, cream-coloured, jacket hanging off of her perfectly poised shoulders like some kind of fashion statement - which was one area in which Phoenix had no clue where to start;
"So, I told him that I was busy today, but he- Oh, sorry." The woman bluntly apologised as she accidentally trod on the defence attorney - whom appeared to have an embarrassing red glow upon his cheeks along with a pained expression -'s incompetently outstretched foot.
"O-Oh, it's fine, I-" The two of them paused and squinted at each other for a brief moment, as if eyeing each other carefully.
"W-Wait, um.. D-Do I know you from s-some..." Phoenix's wavering voice trailed off as the woman's squint became a disapproving glare, as if she thought he had something else in mind other than simply stopping her on the street, and she strode off with an arrogant glint dancing in the tips of her eyes, gripping her phone to her ear more tightly, digging into its plastic flesh more deeply with her large, fake, talons of nails. The spiky-haired man averted his gaze boyishly, feeling idiotic.

Of course he hadn't seen that woman anywhere before. She was a random stranger, after all. Besides, there were millions upon billions of women who wore long jackets and bore long brown hair, right?

Even so, Phoenix found himself glancing at her disappearing turned back once more before continuing on his long and laborious journey through the town centre without a second thought, efficiently weaving in and out of the clumps of decently clothed citizens, the blood pounding in his head being weakened as the effects of the drug were beginning to be violently drowned, tortured and strangled by the increasing adrenaline and tension in the defence attorney's clammy, baby-skin-soft, palms.

He... Had to do this, right?

Even though Edgeworth had always distinctly told him not to...

Right?

Edgeworth clearly didn't care anyway.

Ri-

"O-Oh, no..." Phoenix took a tentative step backwards as he entered the quieter section of the vast town, the drug now beginning to evaporate and clear his mind - allowing the metaphorical dam which had been stopping his emotions from flowing to be extracted -, and a sickeningly familiar building swam into view. With it's depressingly dreary, drab, grey walls and monotonously smooth, clean-cut, texture, the defence attorney couldn't help but feel intimidated by the demanding atmosphere of the Police Station - noticing how empty the place seemed without the prosecutor's colleague (Gumshoe's) prized possession standing outside of the place, with its rickety legs that always seemed to fall off, and dancing to its same old choreographed piece as it played its same old jolly tune. Somehow, without the comical cartoon figurine, the station seemed somehow... Incomplete.

Just as Phoenix felt without-

No.

No, he couldn't think of that.

The spiky-haired man took a step forward.