Oh dear, I've discovered the PW Kink meme. I'm doomed. So, yes, I'm the anon who filled this'n.

So... I'd really like to see someone break down; not the angry/crazy kind of breakdown we usually see in games! What's on my mind is the type of breakdown when a person becomes vulnerable, starts crying, etc. However silly it might sound, I'd like that person to be Manfred von Karma. A-and, someone(Gregory, please?) comforts them, maybe with a hug? The method is actually up to you, I don't really want sex in that, but I won't mind it, either.

Only absolute perfection was good enough. That was Manfred von Karma's firm belief. Everything in his life had to be perfect. And it was. He had the perfect career with a perfect prosecution record. He had a perfectly fearsome reputation. He had a perfect wife and a perfect daughter. They were also expecting another child, guaranteed to be another perfect heir to the von Karma name. Everything was perfect.

"Good morning, darling!" his beautiful wife greeted as Manfred von Karma walked into the kitchen. She was sat in a wicker chair, gently stroking her swollen stomach. She was glowing.
"Guten morgen, mein engel," he replied, kissing her on the forehead.
"He's really kicking today... He's going to be a tough one just like her daddy," she smiled.
"Well, you look after this one for me," he said, patting his wife's stomach, "Now, I must go to work. I shan't be long. I'll get my verdict within five minutes."

He got his guilty verdict with absolute perfection. But by the time he'd got home that day, his wife had died from complications while giving birth. He felt... nothing. Feelings were a sign of weakness. An imperfection. He brought the child home (a girl. Yet another imperfection...) and left them to their nanny. He was back in the courtroom the very next day.

Von Karma stood at the prosecutors bench and gripped impatiently at the sleeves of his jacket. After growling inwardly for a moment, he glared across the room at the defence bench. Gregory Edgeworth was the defence attorney for this case. He'd never beaten von Karma before, but he was still vaguely challenging as a rival. And unfortunately, as he'd been taking so many cases recently, von Karma couldn't entirely remember which particular case this was. He was certain it would come back to him once the judge announced the suspect.
"Court is now in session for the trial of Mr Drew Blood. Is the defence ready?"
"The defence is ready, your honor!" Edgeworth replied confidently.
Manfred growled again. He glanced at the court record.
"The defendant stands accused of murder. The murder of his own... his own wife..." he spat bitterly, "Such a thing is... disgusting. I will prove you guilty and see you punished for your sickening crime!"
He was slamming his fists into the table.
"Well, if the prosecution would like to call its first witness."
"Witness... Ha. I'd like to call the defendant."
"That's... fairly unusual," the judge blinked, "But I guess I'll allow it."

Manfred hated this man. He hardly knew him but to think that he could have... brutally murdered... his own wife? It was then that it started to hit him how desperately he wanted his wife back. He needed her. But need was an imperfection. He was pitying himself. Self-pity was also an imperfection. This situation was just... so... imperfect... Therefore he was imperfect. A von Karma has no need for feelings and yet Manfred was being overwhelmed by them. Midway through a line of questioning from Edgeworth, von Karma banged his fists on the table, feeling a sting of... What were these? Tears?
"I demand a recess!" he shouted.
Edgeworth had a look of absolute confusion plastered on his face.
"What for?" he asked.
"I said I demand a recess!!!"
"This is... most unusual. But... I suppose... I will allow it."

Von Karma stormed out of the courtroom into the prosecutors lobby. He punched the wall and screamed.
Those... tears... they were pouring down his face. He felt... desperate.
He strove for perfection at all times but now he was so vulnerable. He started muttering barely-coherent streams of English and German. He even found himself begging for death so he could join his beloved wife.
He reached out as if to take her hand. He swore he could feel it. Though... it felt much larger than before. And the skin was rougher.
He opened his eyes to find that he was collapsed on the floor and Gregory Edgeworth was helping him up.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing here?" he spat, pushing him away.
"von Karma, I'm trying to help you!" he barked.
"I'm Manfred von Karma, I don't need help!" he shouted, punctuating his statement with another punch to the wall.
"If you don't need help... then... Just look at you, Manfred. You, you of all people, are a wreck. Please. You are a human being and you are entitled to have feelings."
"But as a von Karma I am obliged to resist them!"
"Karma... Please. What happened?"
He looked at the man. His rival. A strong intelligent man. Perhaps he was near enough perfection to have trust in. Or maybe his own imperfection had taken over him, but whatever had happened, he found himself falling against the man, clutching at the lapels of his jacket.
"Mein engel... My wife... She... she has... In childbirth. A girl. Complications. I need her back."
"Your wife died in childbirth?"
He nodded and punched the wall yet again.
"I know how you feel..." the man smiled kindly.
"No, you don't!"
"My wife died in childbirth too. About six years ago. But I got through it."
"How?" Manfred snorted.
"My son. True, I still miss my wife but Miles made my life worth living."
"Rub it in that you had a male heir, you bastard!" he hissed, tugging the lapel.
Gregory rubbed Manfred's shoulder.
"Gender is irrelevant, Manfred. Being a father is one of the most amazing things you can be."
"Oh, write a friggin' Hallmark card..." he spat, pushing him away and storming back into the courtroom.

At the end of the day, he stepped into his house. It felt empty to him.
He cursed in german.
"Guten abend, Herr von Karma," the nanny greeted.
"Guten abend," he replied coldly.
Manfred's elder daughter, Margerette, toddled up to him and grabbed at his long jacket. In german, she asked him if she could hold the baby. He frowned.
She pouted then asked if he would hold her.
He froze. The nanny sidled up close, holding the newborn. She was wrapped in an ice blue blanket. He looked at her. She had her mothers eyes.
He took hold of her and gazed, overwhelmed by love. Suddenly, he understood what Edgeworth had been talking about.