Prompt stolen from this amazing thread, right here

Eh...Don't kill me. It's not exactly warm-and-fuzzy, but it's Feenris.

Prompt: Addiction

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She found herself standing near the entrance to the Bridge, the Bridge that'd made such a difference in her life. She stood there, black hair rustling softly in the wind, staring out without seeing anything.

The "How"s and "When"s of the situation don't matter right now; "How" she got to the Bridge seems trivial and unimportant. Something about a taxi, about lying to Phoenix, about saying something useless...That she was buying groceries, perhaps? Something unimportant, anyway.

What's important, now, is that she's here, again, at thie Bridge.

She can't stop staring at the Eagle River below her. The rushing current...It carried away and nearly killed the two most important people in her life:

Phoenix Wright, of course, and Dahlia Hawthorne.

Iris finally gave into her feet's angry moans of pain and sat down near the entrance of the Bridge, letting her feet dangle softly over its edge. She still can't stop staring at it, wondering how in the world one piece of simple architecture could make such an impact in one's life.

She'd been fourteen, originally, when her sister had proposed the Plan. She'd been sitting, idly passing time at Hazakurain Temple, when Dahlia had casually stopped by, walking in, a total stranger, acting like she'd owned the Temple itself.

* * * * *

Iris ran up to Dahlia, her fourteen-year-old arms opened wide for a hug. "Dahlia!" She'd said, looking at her sister in surprise. "It's great to see you, again."

Dahlia had said nothing, done nothing. She let Iris hug her, but it was a stiff, awkward hug. There was something obviously more important than the cookies Iris was about to offer her sister.

"Iris," Dahlia had said, her fourteen-year-old voice slightly business-like, but still with some degree of warmth. "We need to talk."

Iris paused, slightly surprised. Visits from her sister were a rare thing, indeed--their father did not support their quasi-meetings. Before, Dahlia had only come once a month, or so, though more and more often as their years of separation grew.

"Of course," Iris said to her sister, bringing Dahlia out of the cold air into her heated bedroom. She sat on her bed, legs crossed, waiting for her sister to talk.

Dahlia, however, remained standing, stiffly staring down at Iris. "I have a plan," were her first words, and the next thousand were about said Plan. Iris listened, nodding, not taking in much--something about a diamond, and their father, and a man named Terry Fawles.

"I don't understand," she said, looking at her sister, puzzled. "Why are you telling me this, Dahlia?"

"Because," her sister had replied, looking a bit impatient. "I'm running away from home, with two million dollars." She'd paused here, looking a bit embarassed. "And I'll need your help."

Iris nodded, eagerly, earnestly. These begs for help were so rare from her sister, Iris was more than willing to do whatever it took for her sister, and said as much.

Dahlia's face broke into a genuine grin. "Wonderful," she said, smiling. "I'll need you to meet me at the base of the Eagle River, then. I'll need you to help me out, and have a spare change of clothes, and the like."

Dahlia had paused here, too. "Oh," she added, almost as an after-thought. "And I'd bring a backpack of clothes, or something, for you, too."

"Me?" Iris had asked. "Why me, Dahlia?"

"Because," Dahlia had said, walking over to the bed. She'd sat down and mirrored her sister's leg-crossing style. "You're coming with me."

Dahlia laced their two hands together, her smile growing wider yet. "I'm running away from home...and we're going together."

* * * * *

She hadn't gone, of course. She'd been in her room the entire time, her fingers still tingling at her sister's touch. She'd been too afraid to leave Sister Bikini, too afraid she'd be lost in the real world, even with her sister's guidance.

Iris looked out at the bridge, trying to imagine her sister's thoughts before jumping off. Dahlia had probably felt safe, Iris decided. She'd probably felt secure, knowing that her sister--Iris herself--would be at the end of the tunnel, waiting for Dahlia to show up so that the two Hawthorne sisters could be, at last, reuinted.

What a surprise it must've been, Iris thought bitterly. Dahlia had probably stepped out of the river, soaking wet, terrified, and now, all alone.

Iris had been a terrified failure, then, too afraid to leave the bubble that was the Temple. Her sin was that she'd left her sister; she'd abandoned Dahlia when her sister had needed her the most. Dahlia had done everything for Iris, and Iris couldn't even show up to bring her a change of clothes and run off, together. She was such a--

"Hello, Iris." A warm hand on her shoulder startled Iris out of her daydream. She turned around, then smiled, softly.

"Feenie," she said, a warm sense of relief flooding her body. "What are you doing here?"

Phoenix Wright smiled, and helped Iris to her feet. "No one can buy groceries for that long, 'Rissy. I figured you'd be here."

She nodded sadly, softly, still staring at the Bridge. "It's an addiction," she said, her words only part in jest.

"You're addicted to the past, Iris." His words were simple, quiet, but firm.

She nodded again, still seemingly unable to talk.

"What's the matter with the present? The future?" He pulled Iris towards him, taking his hand in hers, his voice filling with concern. "Our future?"

She looked up at Phoenix, sensing his need to be reassured, that nothing was wrong, again. She'd been good at reading people and their needs, and catering to them.

"Nothing's the matter, Feenie," she'd lied, quietly, giving Phoenix a half-smile. "This bridge is of importance to me, of course, but not as much as you."

Her Phoenix had let out a long laugh, eager not to press deeper into Iris's lie. "Phew," he said, grinning. "For a moment, there, I was afraid I'd have to compete with a bridge for your affection."

She'd smiled, again, the guilt mounting, but hiding it with a smile. "Of course not."

Phoenix took his arms and wrapped them softly around Iris's waist. He pulled her towards him so the two were leaning, her back against his chest, staring out at the Bridge. The two stood there for a while, saying nothing, his head peaceful and calm, and her head still filled with shame and guilt, now growing with her lies.

He leaned softly into her, his mouth whispering in her ear. "Do you want to leave, now? I think we can stop for lunch, if you'd like."

Iris nodded, needing a distraction from this Bridge. "Let's leave, then."

The two walked, hand in hand, back to where the taxi Phoenix had taken was still running. As she left, Iris took one last look at the Bridge, her free hand reaching into her pocket and looking for the item inside.

The Necklace. Dahlia's necklace. She kept it in her pocket constantly, now, waiting for the right moment to throw it over the edge of the Bridge. She'd been waiting until she was rid of Dahlia's spirit, until she could finally be her own person, instead of simply her sister's shadow.

As Iris climbed into the taxi after Phoenix, she chattered miscellaneously, not listening to what she was saying, the Necklace still held firmly in her pocket.

She knew, therefore, that she'd be back at the Bridge, torturing herself with memories of a long-distant past.

It was an addiction, after all.