Basketball

Baseball

Football (American)

Lacrosse

Track & Field

Volleyball

Football (European)

Goalie/Hockey Player

Cheerleader

Tennis (Men's)

Tennis (Women's)

Rim Shot
A fan fiction by: Mr.Trite

Overall, he supposed that Makoto Yuuki wasn’t too bad of a prosecutor.
That didn’t mean he had to like any other aspect of him, of course.


Sighing, High Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth pressed his fingers to his forehead, trying as best he could to focus on the paperwork in front of him. The man had a case in a few days, and needed to get as much done as possible before it was too late. However, this was proving to be no easy task. It used to be, of course- This time last month, Edgeworth would have been more than halfway done and would be right in the middle of enjoying a splendid cup of tea. However….
Slamming his fountain pen down, Miles closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands. It had been less than a month, and he was already sick of it. This new prosecutor….How was it possible that they were the same age? There had to be some sort of mistake. Standing abruptly from his desk, the silver haired man pushed in his chair and went to go lay down on the magenta couch in his office, giving up. He kicked off his shoes as he did so and tucked them neatly under the couch. He needed a vacation. A very, very long vacation.
Makoto Yuuki. He was a man easily recognizable by his shiny teeth, spiky hair, and sports references as ridiculous as his preppy pink outfit. Grumbling, Edgeworth lay himself down on the couch, back turned in the direction of the young sports buff’s office, and buried his face under a pillow. With any luck, he could drown out the music blaring out of his office, pounding against the walls like an angry crowd. Not even that Gavin kid was this bad.
Shutting his steel-colored eyes, Miles exhaled, trying to make himself as calm as possible. Makoto, under no circumstances, would get the better of him. After all, he had told him more than once that they were ‘official rivals, dude.’ How that was supposed to work out between two prosecutors, he would never know. And rivals of what? Not sports, he certainly hoped. As if the thought of sports acted as a trigger, the music blaring from Makoto’s office grew louder, causing Miles to mutter a profanity. He couldn’t work under these conditions. He was a High Prosecutor, for God’s sake. Couldn’t the higher-up’s grant him the one, simple benefit of a peaceful environment?
Deciding enough was enough, Miles placed his sock feet firmly on the ground and stood up, a look of determination in his eyes. He had had enough of this nonsense. If the Chief Prosecutor wasn’t going to do anything about this obnoxiousness then he, Miles Edgeworth, would gladly take care of the problem. Kneeling down to get his shoes from under the couch, he hadn’t heard his office door slam shut. That obnoxious, muffled music coming from Makoto Yuuki’s office didn’t help much, either.
Feeling a rough hand grab his shoulder, Miles gasped loudly and swung around, shoe flying from his hand and knocking his assailant in the face, dead-center. After that case involvement with Shelly DeKiller last year, Miles had been taking self-defense classes. He supposed throwing a shoe at somebody would be efficient. His sensei would be proud.
“Yeowch! Hey, pal!” Eyes widening in the slightest, Miles was quick to regain his composure. Ah. It was only Gumshoe.
“Can I help you, Detective?” Retrieving his shoe, Miles noted with a frown as Detective Dick Gumshoe rubbed his nose, turning red where the shoe had struck him. “You should know better than to sneak up on me like that, you know.”
“Well, I was calling you for ages, pal! Right in the doorway going ‘Mister Edgeworth! HEY, MR. EDGEWORTH!’ But you never heard me, so I thought I’d just come in!” A flash of anger crossed Gumshoe’s face, but was immediately replaced with a pout as Edgeworth knitted his brows together in a fierce, unforgiving glare. “I…I’m gonna guess you’re not in a good mood right now, sir.”
Edgeworth had to keep from lacing his answer with biting sarcasm. “No,” he growled, “I’m not.” At Gumshoe’s puppy-dog glance, the magenta-clad man continued. “Do you not hear that… that obnoxious trash playing? Why, everybody in a five-mile radius must hear it! It’s preposterous!” The detective grinned a little.
“Oh, you mean Mr. Yuuki’s work-out music!” the man chuckled. As Edgeworth’s glare hardened, the detective shrank back down, resembling an odd mixture of a dog and a turtle.
“I mean…Makoto’s work-out music?” Edgeworth nodded.
“Better.” Sinking back onto the magenta couch, Edgeworth buried his head in his hands. “I do hope you carry painkillers.” the prosecutor mumbled into his palms. The poor young man looked absolutely defeated.
“Nope, sorry Mr. Edgeworth. I can’t afford painkillers…Want me to get the one’s out of your desk?” At Edgeworth’s slight nod, Gumshoe made no haste in getting to his boss’ well-polished desk. He talked as he scrambled though drawers, searching without end for the elusive bottle of painkillers Edgeworth had taken to buying ever since Makoto had gotten his new office.
“You know, Mr. Edgeworth,” Gumshoe started, a slight clatter coming from the desk as his hands wandered, “You could always ask Mr. Yu--Makoto to turn down the music.” Edgeworth looked up a little, one grey eye peeking out from his pale, elegant fingers.
“Like I haven’t thought of that already.” he answered, his voice hard to hear when speaking into his hands. As Gumshoe returned with the bottle, the detective tried to keep a positive smile on his face.
“It’s always worth trying, right pal?” Gumshoe asked, popping the lid off the bottle, “I mean, I thought you were all about not giving up!”
“…That’s only when looking for the truth, Detective. And the truth is he’s not going to turn the music down.” Edgeworth sighed.
“ Yeah, but have you actually tried asking him yet?” Shaking two pills out of the bottle, Gumshoe handed them to the prosecutor, who gladly took them. When looking out of his hands, Edgeworth noted just how serious Gumshoe was about his silly little idea. Asking him was out of the question. That would be too easy.
“Well,” Edgeworth started, pausing to pop the pills into his mouth, “If you’re so dead-set on this idea of yours, why don’t you go ask him?”
Dumbstruck, Gumshoe pointed a finger to himself. “M-Me? Why me, sir?” Edgeworth sighed.
“I already told you. Because he won’t listen to me. Now go.” Swallowing the twin pills in his mouth, Edgeworth pointed to the door leading out of his office. “And hurry. Before I swallow the entire bottle.” Looking for a second like he was going to argue, Gumshoe formulated the argument in his head, saw it was pointless, and sighed, wearing that same puppy-dog look.
“Yes, sir...” Gumshoe grumbled, lifting himself to his feet. Hunched over slightly, the scruffy-looking detective scuffled out of Edgeworth‘s office, quietly shutting the door behind him when he was out into the halls. With this done, the silver-haired man left inside sighed and shut his eyes, resting his head on the back of his couch. And waited.

When several minutes had gone by and still no change in the never-ending rhythm, Edgeworth growled and eased himself off of the couch. If there was one thing he had learned in life, if was if you wanted to get things done, do them yourself. Shuffling back into his shoes, Edgeworth straightened himself out- It was always important to look presentable- and walked out of his office, hands in his pockets. Gumshoe’s failure would cost him a cut in his paycheck.
The first thing he noticed was Detective Gumshoe himself, standing outside of the sport buff’s office with a determined look on his face. He was saying something- screaming, maybe- but the music blaring from inside the room was drowning him out quite well. Edgeworth cleared his throat, but got no response. Apparently, not only could he not hear Gumshoe, but Gumshoe could not hear him. Sighing, the prosecutor walked up to his detective and tapped his shoulder. Gumshoe jumped.
“S-Sir!” Even now, his voice was quite loud, as if the two were in a club instead of a law office. “I’ve been calling him for ages, but he can’t hear me, sir!”
“Have you tri--”
“What?!”
“HAVE YOU TRIED OPENING THE DAMN DOOR?!”
A silence fell between the two. Looking as if he was going to speak again, Gumshoe simply shook his head, letting his actions replace his words over the impossibly loud music. Giving an aggravated cry, Edgeworth slammed his hand down on the door handle and swung the it open, revealing the interior of Makoto Yuuki‘s office.
“Yura yura to yuganda sora e! Kimi no moto e tonde yuke!” A streak of red crossed Edgeworth’s vision; a ribbon. The man’s mouth had dropped open before he could even fully piece together what was going on.
The spiky-haired brunette was grinning ear-to-ear as he danced across the office, the red ribbon in his hand spun around as he practiced his routine. He hadn’t seen Edgeworth, nor the fact that his eyes were about as round as dinner plates. Makoto Yuuki…did rhythmic gymnastics? It didn’t help he was singing along to the song he was working out to. A rather feminine song, if one were to ask Edgeworth.
“ Kimi no moto e tonde yuke! Konna ni mo chikaku ni kanjiteru!” Reaching a turn in his little performance, Makoto spun around, eyes bright…before he noticed Gumshoe and Edgeworth standing in the threshold.
“Futatsu no omoiiiiiiiiiiiOh!” Eyes wide, Makoto gave a startled gasp as he dropped the ribbon he had been previously twirling. Rooted to the spot, the cheery tones of his workout music continued to bounce around the office walls, despite the others in the room being stunned into silence. Edgeworth opened his mouth to speak the same moment Makoto found himself able to move and sprinted towards his radio to turn the cassette off.
Makoto was the first to speak. “So…uh…guys. You’re not going to tell the other prosecutors, right…? After all, I’ve got an image to maintain.” A wry chuckled came out of Edgeworth.
“I suppose.” Makoto’s sigh was obviously one of relief. “However…Play your music that loud again, and I’ll make sure the whole county knows of your….Sport preferences.”
“…You got a deal, coach.” Smirking a bit, Edgeworth went to leave the office, only to be stopped by his fellow prosecutor’s voice. “Oh, and Edgeworth? Do me a favor? Can…Can you make sure the door’s locked after you leave? Thanks.” Nodding with that ever-present smirk on his face, Edgeworth shut the door behind him, keeping the image of a prancing Makoto Yuuki in his mind, just in case.