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“Maya Fey.”
“Franz.”
“You’re telling me…”
“Mhm.”
“You don’t want me to cut my hair…”
“Mhm…”
“So you can braid it?!”
“Yep!”
Franziska pinched the bridge of her nose. “Maya Fey, I’m not even sure my hair is long enough as it is right now to braid.”
“Don’t care! I want you to wait until either I can come to Germany or you can come to California so I can braid your hair. Then if you want, you can hack it all off.” Her voice was tinny through the phone, but the amount of severe and entirely in character charisma in her voice came through all the same.
Honesty, Franziska didn’t know what she expected when she told Maya she had been considering cutting her hair. She never knew what to expect from the spirit medium, she was so completely unpredictable at all times.
Maybe that was why Franziska kept her around. For all the things that stayed the same, that Franziska could see coming from miles away, Maya Fey was a sense of abnormalcy. She was always a surprise.
… perish the thought. Franziska didn’t, “keep Maya Fey around,” she could barely get rid of her and had given up trying.
Yep. That’s what was going on.
“Maya Fey, I don’t wish to burst your bubble, but my hair is my own. I am entitled to cutting and styling it as I please, and I quite wish for it to be shorter—”
“Too bad!” was the immediate response from Maya, and for all the surprise that Maya held, Franziska really felt she should have seen that coming. “If you wanna chop it off, you’re gonna have to wait! Sorry, Franz.”
“You’re insufferable, Maya Fey.”
“I try my best, Frannie.”
Franziska checked her watch. “Unfortunately, I must cut this call short, as my break is nearing its end.”
“Wow, Lang finally got you to take a break?”
“... yes, he did.”
“Tell him I owe him $10.”
“I—” she gave up on arguing with Maya on that. “Nevermind. I’ll tell him. Goodbye, Maya Fey.”
“Toodles!”
The line went silent and Franziska returned her phone to its place in her drawer before returning to her work. She ran gloved fingers through her hair to pull it from her face once— twice—
She reached for a headband from her drawer and affixed it to her head.
Her hair was getting longer than she thought. As her head tipped down to review the reports and files, her hair (despite being caught in the band) fell into the corners of her view and tickled at her jawline. She pushed it out of her face again, again, again—
thump
Her head hit the desk and she let out a groan.
“Maya Fey, you had better be quick.”
Maya Fey was not quick.
It took three months before Franziska was able to pull some vacation time and visit the United States. Three months of dealing with her hair that was beginning to itch the back of her neck with every movement she made.
Thankfully, Franziska knew how to use hair ties, because if she didn’t she’d have shaved her head in a heartbeat. Normally she kept it at just above her chin, but she’d been too busy to get it trimmed, so it had grown longer than she wanted. And unfortunately, it took after Franziska herself when it came to being a complete and utter nightmare to its creator.
(That said, Franziska took exceptional pride in how far she’d strayed from Manfred von Karma’s vision for her. She was no longer the perfectionist she sought to be, rather spending her effort seeking out the truth of every case she picked up.
And she actually had friends . She had people she enjoyed spending time with, rather than peons to conform to her every whim. Kay Faraday, Shi-Long Lang, Sebastian Debeste, Raymond Shields, Maya F—
And… she had Maya Fey, who was her friend. Yes. Friend. That was fine.
Unrelatedly, Franziska had since discovered she was in fact a lesbian. Her father had said his fair share of slurs both in the court and in the home, and the thought of him rolling in his grave every time his daughter kissed a woman brought nothing except for joy to Franziska.
So yes, fuck Manfred von Karma, and fuck being his perfect little girl. Franziska was doing great without him. She only wished he could see her now, and that she could see the look on his face as she lived happily in pursuit of truth over results.
What a sucker.)
But the wait was worth it, Franziska determined. Finally, as she landed in LAX airport and was received by Maya Fey (in a very tight hug, she might add) she only had one thought on her mind:
Let’s get this over with.
Maya called for a cab to Franziska’s hotel, and they were locked in animated conversation the whole way. Maya regaled the latest in her life—she’d since decided, after the Misty Fey case, she would be leaving the clan and would allow another to become the master, and was instead pursuing becoming a social worker—and listened adamantly as Franziska did the same.
It was nice, being in the same space as Maya again. Franziska had nearly forgotten just how brightly Maya lit up the space she was in, how, despite everything, she managed to wear the brightest smile. She always brought an unrivaled level of joy—whether through her goofy antics or her pure love of fun or any number of other ways—everywhere she went.
And Franziska forgot just how badly she couldn’t get enough of it.
This was normal, she thought. For someone who grew up living her life in the shadow of another, grew up desperate for the love and attention of a father too fixated on a boy that was not his son, it was normal to want to soak in the joyful attention of another. It was normal to be incapable of tiring of just how brightly and optimistically Maya Fey looked at the world, just how high she held her head, just how much she loved the life she led. It was normal to be completely drunk on Maya Fey’s bright smile, the way her eyes sparkled as she did, the slight rise of her ears and puff of her chest when she was excited, the notes her vocal chords hit when she said Franziska’s name.
Somehow, despite every ounce of energy that spilled from Maya Fey’s small figure, she calmed Franziska. Franziska, wrought and full to the brim with stress and anxiety, worked to the bone by herself in pursuit of truth and justice, was finally able to relax anytime she heard Maya’s “Hey, Franz!” over the phone, anytime she saw her bright smile over a video chat, anytime she felt her tight hugs with a tiny little rock from side to side after a reconnection from so long apart.
They arrived at the hotel room and Franziska let out a sigh.
“What’cha sighing about?” Maya inquired.
“I just forgot how good it is to be around you is all,” Franziska answered.
(And that was when the realization hit her. Not when she’d let Maya drag her to a county fair just to see the way she smiled at all the attractions, not when she’d taken Maya to an exclusive early screening of the Steel Samurai reboot film, not even when she’d flown halfway around the globe to be there for Maya after she found out Phoenix Wright had lost his attorney badge.
No, it was here that Franziska von Karma realized just how deep she was in love with Maya Fey. Sitting in a barren hotel room, barely even unpacked, and with nothing but each other to bring any life to the surroundings.
And it was also here that Franziska von Karma realized Maya Fey was about to braid her hair.
She was a massive, massive fool.)
Maya reeled slightly. “H-huh? When’d you get so sappy?”
Had Franziska not also been reeling internally from her realization that, holy shit I’m so in love with my best friend and she’s about to braid my hair, she may have noticed the slight pinking of Maya’s cheeks, or the handful of octaves her voice rose with no warning. No, Franziska was too distracted by the chaos unfolding in her mind to pay any attention to that.
In fact, she didn’t even catch what Maya said. “Sorry, could you repeat that? I must have zoned out.”
“N-nevermind,” Maya stammered. “Hey, uh… do you want me to braid your hair now? I mean, you just had an eleven hour flight, so you might wanna shower—”
“We can do it now!” Franziska interjected rather loudly. She did not want to be naked anywhere near Maya Fey right now. “If that’s okay with you, I mean.”
There was a moment before Maya answered, “Yeah! Totally!”
Franziska sat on the bed, cross legged, and Maya placed herself behind her. Tension hung in the air, and Franziska didn’t know if that was her sheer nervousness or if Maya was also feeling it, and she was too nervous to turn to see. So she hoped, prayed even, that it was just nerves.
The moment passed in what felt like an eternity before Maya’s hand slipped into her hair.
“Okay, so I’m gonna do french braids, is that okay?” Maya’s voice was stable.
Franziska resisted the urge to nod. “Yes, that will suffice. I must admit, I’ve never braided my hair.”
“You’ve never braided your hair? How?”
“My mother left shortly after my birth with my sister, and he cared very little to teach me the inner workings of women’s fashion. That included hair care.” She frowned. “My apologies, I did not mean to sour the mood—”
“No, it’s fine,” Maya immediately said. “Don’t apologize just because you had a hard time as a kid.”
Slowly, Maya’s hands began to work through Franziska’s hair. She brushed it into a middle part, and then gently folded and twisted it into itself to form the braid.
Her hands were remarkably gentle. Anytime Franziska had cared for her hair—be it pulling it into a sloppy ponytail or even applying shampoo—she hadn’t cared for how rough she was. She used the force she thought necessary. But Maya was soft. Despite how she pulled and prodded at Franziska’s scalp, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It actually felt quite alright.
In a moment’s time, she finished one braid and moved onto the other side of Franziska’s head. Silence pervaded over the room until Maya spoke, asking, “How do you feel?”
“What do you mean?”
She couldn’t see it, but she could feel Maya’s shrug. “Well, you’ve always been very… closed off. Of course, you’ve been open around me, but I always thought you’d be very touch averse.”
“You thought correctly, Maya, however I believe you’ve earned my trust.” Franziska inhaled slowly. “I feel rather comfortable around you, so I assure you, I’m okay.”
Another moment.
“Okay.”
It didn’t take long before Maya’s hands left Franziska’s scalp, and a cheerful, “Done!” filled Franziska’s ears. She stood from the bed, feeling returning to her previously crossed legs, and moved into the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror.
She looked… nice. Of course, she still wanted to cut her hair, but she didn’t mind the look of her hair braided the way it was. That wasn’t even mentioning the look on Maya’s face at her side, a subdued glee that Franziska could only place as pride.
“What do you think?”
Franziska answered immediately. “It’s lovely, Maya.” She turned to face her friend. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem!” Maya said with her signature smile. “Though, your roots are growing in.”
Franziska turned back to the mirror and, sure enough, at the base of the blue-silver hair she’d dyed to hell and back over the years was small tinges of brown. “So it would seem.”
“I never realized your hair wasn’t blue,” Maya commented. “For some reason, it just made sense.”
“Papa had me dye it from a very young age. My natural brown reminded him too much of my mother.” Maya frowned, but Franziska turned to her with a smile. “Don’t worry, Maya. I like the way my hair looks this color. I don’t do it for him anymore. I do it for me.”
And then Maya smiled. “I’m glad. I’m glad you can live for you.”
“And the same for you, Maya Fey,” Franziska said. “Though, I do still intend to cut it short. I hope that doesn’t offend you.”
“Not at all! But before you do, can I show you one thing?”
“Of course.”
Maya reached up and back into Franziska’s hair, though this time from in front of her. “Since you’ve never braided your hair, you don’t know just how good it feels—” As she spoke, Maya pulled the elastics from the ends of Franziska’s hair. On its own, her hair uncurled itself, but then— “to run your hands through your hair just after you’ve taken out the braids.”
Maya’s gentle fingers eased through Franziska’s scalp, softly easing her hair completely out of the braids and back to their original state. And Maya had a point, it felt like something Franziska could have only dreamed.
And Maya, so close and so gentle, held Franziska in her hands so tenderly. Franziska had never let her guard down so completely before, and Maya had responded in such kind by touching Franziska with only care and demure, never pushing out of her comfort zone.
Franziska opened her eyes, not realizing they’d even closed, and Maya’s expression was different. It was softer, with tinges of something else—
Nervousness.
“Hey, um…” Maya’s voice was barely above a whisper.
Pink bloomed on Maya’s cheeks, highlighting the freckles dotting her skin. It caressed the tips of her ears. Her breathing, though soft, was quicker. Her hands still rested on the sides of Franziska’s face.
“You look… really pretty with your hair like this…”
And Franziska worried for just a moment that something had made Maya uncomfortable. That maybe Maya had realized what Franziska, though unintentionally, had meant before. That maybe Maya didn’t feel the same way, or didn’t want Franziska to feel that way about her, or— or— or—
Her train of thought was halted in an instant when the feeling of Maya’s lips graced her own.
It was barely for a second, hardly long enough for Franziska to blink, before Maya was backed away again. Her hands left her hair, the softness on her face was replaced with panic, and the moment cracked.
“I-I’m so sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking, you were just really pretty and—”
But Franziska decided she wouldn’t let it die. She pulled Maya close once more and kissed her again. Her hands found their way to Maya’s cheeks, holding her close and gently as Maya had held her, and let free the feelings she’d been unintentionally bottling for so long.
Kissing Maya was just that: free.
The clock ticked again, and Maya pulled away, though this time it was not in panic, but in a desire for breath. The anxiety had dispelled from her face as it had from Franziska’s heart, and she began to giggle.
“Well, way to throw me on the ultimate emotional rollercoaster, Franz.”
Franziska couldn’t help it—she laughed as well. “I was incredibly obvious, Maya, even if I didn’t realize it.”
“Wait, what does that mean, ‘even if I didn’t realize it’?”
“Well, it was only as we arrived that I realized my feelings for you were what they are.”
Franziska expected some explosion of emotion along the lines of, “You’ve loved me all this time and you didn’t know?”
But she would never learn her lesson for attempting to predict anything from Maya Fey, she realized, as Maya smirked.
“And what are these feelings?”
And there wasn’t a hint of hesitancy, of uncertainty, of unsafety, when she answered.
“Love, Maya Fey. I am in love with you.”