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The clock on the wall ticked rhythmically, one of the only sounds breaking through the silence of the office.Â
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Nahyuta picks up the stack of papers they had been going through, tapping the pages on their desk to even them out before standing up to retrieve the stapler from on Klavierâs desk. The shuffle of paper. The noise of their chair against the floor. Their footsteps. The sound of the stapler being picked up, used, and set down again.Â
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Itâs late. Far too late for anyone to be in the office at this time. Outside, though, they see the occasional lights of cars passing by the office. Rarely, the silence is shattered by the sirens of the police next door. That hasnât happened yet tonight, which theyâre grateful for.
The office itself is very dimly lit, in fact, the sole source of light inside is the lamp on Nahyutaâs desk they had been using to read. They move closer to the light, picking up the file folder, tucking the newly stapled pages inside before heading into the records room to file it properly.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The familiar noise of opening the filing cabinet seems so much louder when theyâre alone in the office in the middle of the night. Once the file is properly placed, they close the drawer again before returning to their desk.Â
There really isnât much else for them to do, now that theyâve finished with that file, but they still sit back at their desk, sorting through the papers left scattered there by a certain ârock starâ prosecutor. They suppose they could return to their apartment for the night, but they donât know how much sleep they would even get. Sleep seemed so elusive to them in this city, so often plagued by nightmares. There is a couch upstairs for them to take a nap on...
They glance up at the clock on the wall idly, wondering if they were to sleep on the couch in Prosecutor Edgeworth and Mr. Wrightâs office how much sleep they would get when they realize with a jolt that itâs...12:01.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
âAh...itâs my birthday.â
The year is supposedly 2018, so theyâre honestly not any older. Theyâre not sure how time works in this city regardless, so they donât want to begin speculating how aging might or might not work.
Glancing at the calendar on their desk, they wonder (with a small twinge in their chest) if anyone would even remember or know (and if they even wanted anyone to celebrate it anyway). Apollo likely did, but... Their relationship hadnât been the most pleasant upon their reunion in the city.
With a sigh, Nahyuta stands up again, deciding that is an issue they will deal with later. For now, theyâre going to try meditating (and perhaps sleeping) on the couch in the Edgeworth-Wright office. Hopefully no one will find them there tomorrow morning before theyâve had their coffee.Â
Happy Birthday...Nahyuta.