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Chapter Text

Franziska von Karma is a woman of steel with a mind of steel. She had been educated, in childhood, to show only those emotions that are convenient for her, keeping all else tightly locked in so that nobody could notice. It is that self-discipline and rigor, after all, that keep her win streak alive.

Franziska von Karma is also a human being. And if that is true, then it must also be true that not all of what she feels is perfect or convenient. So where do all of those other, more intimate thoughts go?

In the von Karma manor there was absolutely no space for them. She watched as her father punished Miles over and over for being human and understood at a very tender age that she could not be caught making the same mistake. Punishment brought along shame, and if there was one thing that Franziska hated it was that awful feeling of embarrassment that followed it. No, she decided. No, she would not be following in her adoptive brother's sad footsteps.

Then, Miles left. Being Manfred's actual daughter helped a bit—she'd always been the favorite, unsurprisingly—but not having him around was a lot less pleasant than she'd predicted. Despite never having confessed any part of her interior conflict to him, or anything at all for that matter, knowing that the option to do so was available had usually brought comfort to her otherwise uncomfortable life. A comfort that, admittedly, she had tried many times to squash.

Franziska reacted to the ulterior exposure to her father's scrutiny by locking her real self even deeper than before: she stopped engaging in any hobbies and dedicated herself completely to prosecuting. By that time she'd already started taking cases, so it had not been difficult to find things to occupy her time with.

The next phase of her life came with moving out. For the first year or so she continued to be just as tense and one-dimensional as her father had taught and expected her to be—no pleasures, no comfort, no down time. When her body and psyche had finally adjusted to the fact that she no longer had to be on alert all the time, Franziska began to calm down.

“You're looking better these days, Miss von Karma,” a subordinate had told her one day after she'd begun taking longer baths, of all things. She'd had him demoted for the inopportune comment, of course, but it had proven an interesting discovery.

She did look better. She also felt better.

Loathe to let anybody rule over her life, Franziska started to meticulously hack out traces of her left-over obedience to her father from her behaviors. She allowed herself to occasionally remain in pajamas while she ate breakfast. She began going to bed earlier. She even went so far as to splurge on a massage now and then. Her personality had not been too far off from her father's, but the few differences between them were quite significant.

Not much changed, overall, but it felt monumental nonetheless.

And now... well. Manfred von Karma was in jail, to be executed soon. Death had never felt more like her ally than it did now. She tried to ignore that he'd been convicted while actively trying to get Miles killed in his place.

The next logical step was for Franziska to meet up with Miles again, after all these years—and yet, she did not feel up to the task as of then. He'd gone through a lot, what with all that had happened, even in the years following the DL-6 case.

And she still did not feel... she did not feel...

No. She felt fine. It just... wasn't the right time. Yes.

But Franziska felt as though she had to take another step forward, drag herself even further away from her soon-to-be-dead father's shadow. Which is why she downloaded that damned application.

It had been a colleague who had introduced her to it, albeit a bit confusedly. An unknown sound had emitted from her laptop once while they'd been in the same room: upon being called by none other than Franziska von Karma, the woman had tensed and had probably prepared for the worst.

“Miss Telliot. What is that noise?”

“Oh, good morning, Miss von Karma. It's, um, a... notification?”

The prosecutor ignored how the woman's statement became a question at the end, waving a hand in dismissal. “I know that well,” she huffed. “I do not recognize it, however.”

“Ah, I see.” Her interlocutor swallowed audibly. “I wouldn't expect you to—um, I mean it's more of a modern—children use it more than people your age... ah, I'm not trying to call you old, just—“

Franziska moved her hand to the whip that always clung to her left hip.

“It's from an app called Discord, Miss von Karma.”

“Hah? I would like to hear of this application for 'children' that somebody working for me utilizes so regularly. After all, you are not a child, correct?”

“I... phrased that wrong. It's not necessarily for kids, it's simply a messaging app of a sort that does not require your phone number. You make an account, and then you can either join servers or simply chat with friends—“

“There is no need to bore me with such a lengthy explanation.”

“—yes, of course.”

And that had been that. Not bothering to bid the woman goodbye—it had already been gracious of her to remember her name—Franziska went back to her office and did not think of this application until that evening.

–

When she returned home to her apartment (a penthouse apartment, naturally) a couple hours later, Franziska pondered over her colleague's words as she made herself dinner. Cooking was another essential skill for living alone that both she and her brother had learned in their youth: Manfred never cooked himself, having the maids do it for him, but had insisted an assistant teach his proteges the basics.

“A true member of high society must not only be able to cook several dishes but also recognize quality ingredients, their uses, and what they add to a plate,” he'd repeated once as he watched a ten-year-old Franziska breading a cut of meat. “Recipes are often brought up at dinners. You must not allow yourselves to be caught unprepared in any such circumstance.”

Now, the young prosecutor found herself almost burning the chicken she was frying as she thought about what Telliot had said. There was something about the application she'd talked about that had piqued her curiosity—from what she'd gleaned, it allowed one to communicate with other users in an anonymous way. The idea of a 'server' still baffled her, but she suspected it was nothing that an Internet search could not clear up.

Franziska had been subconsciously searching for a way to reintegrate herself into society for several years now. There was a nagging need in the back of her head that urged her to broaden her social circle, find people with whom she could talk freely... a human instinct that she'd long suppressed, perhaps. Whatever it was, it begged to be released, to find something to do in the long hours spent at home alone.

It was difficult, however, for her name was well known in Los Angeles, especially within the law community. And if Franziska couldn't turn to the law, where else could she go? What else constituted such an integral part of her personality?

The prosecutor huffed as she realized the chicken was now way past well done and had become well burnt. Deciding it would do anyway, she sat down at her kitchen island and tried to ignore the acrid taste of some of the pieces while casting her mind back to her childhood. What had she enjoyed doing before Manfred had taken everything away?

Instead of immediately stumbling upon a revelation of any kind, Franziska found herself remembering a moment she'd shared with Miles at the age of nine. The boy had waited until their father went to sleep, then had snuck out to the living room to turn on the TV; when he'd realized she'd followed him, he'd muted it and had turned to her with pleading eyes.

“Franziska, please do not tell Father,” he'd begged. “It's nothing bad, I swear. I'm just watching a kids' show, see?” And he'd pointed to the screen, where the words 'Steel Samurai' were displayed proudly.

She'd blinked, and then nodded slowly. Much to her brother's surprise, she'd even joined him on the couch to watch.

For a year or so, Miles and Franziska would binge the show's episodes at night after Manfred had gone to sleep. None of them talked to each other during the show, nor did they discuss it at any other time: it didn't feel like a bonding experience so much as a way to entertain themselves and escape their father. The assistants and maids knew, of course, but none ever said anything or even acknowledged them. She'd later realized that they felt bad for them, trapped in that horrible house with such a horrible parent.

Manfred, at one point, had found out—but Miles had taken all the blame.

Snapping back to the present, the prosecutor sighed deeply. That was the only entertainment she'd ever enjoyed, and it had been clandestine.

Wait.

“Enjoyed”...

Hold it!

Franziska could see how a passion for a piece of popular media such as the 'Steel Samurai' could permit her to find other like-minded people—the fame the show possessed surely meant that it had many fans. However, there was no chance in the world that she would tarnish her reputation as a fearsome, virtually unbeatable prosecutor by announcing in person that she found a kids' show entertaining. And that, she grinned to herself, is where the Internet comes in.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, then realized that she'd just cheered like a child and went back to eating her chicken with a pensive expression.

Research was in order.

–

'Research' ended up taking more time than she'd originally thought. During the weeks following her epiphany, Franziska found herself buried to the neck in cases and investigations and searches for runaway witnesses—hell, even Interpol reached out once or twice to enlist her aid.

The extra work did not leave her a moment of respite, not a single break. She began going to bed late and waking up early, the coffee addiction she'd been convinced she'd beaten rearing its ugly head once more: every time she came back to her apartment all she could do was collapse onto her bed, still in her work clothes, and hope that the next day would go a little bit better.

For a while, this was never the case... until it was.

On the day the young prosecutor finished all her tasks, on the day she got a trial she'd been worrying about over and done with, her mind finally gave out on her.

(She couldn't really find it within herself to be mad, or even surprised. It had served her well for the last few weeks, despite everything that had been going on.)

Maybe it was the fact that Franziska was letting herself go more. Maybe it was the fact that she'd had the matter of her father's influence on her mind quite often these days. Hell, maybe it was just pure exhaustion. The truth remained: when she got home that Tuesday, all she could do was collapse.

It was a gradual process, really—no dramatic fainting involved. Franziska opened and then locked the apartment door behind her, then placed her briefcase on its apposite stool next to it. She took off her shoes and socks, shuffling her feet into her house slippers. After that, she moved to the living room, intending to head to the bathroom to brush her teeth before going to bed.

Before she could get there, however, her muscles stopped working one by one: her hands first, going slack at her sides, her head, drooping against her chest, and then her legs. They gave out underneath her and Franziska suddenly found herself kneeling on the rug under her coffee table, hands just skimming the soft material. The sudden drop had her vision blacking out for a minute, effectively disorientating her—but when she realized what had happened, all she found it in herself to do was to fall completely, face buried in the red cloth.

She laid there breathing for a moment, even her overactive mind stunned into silence. A part of her knew that sleeping on the floor was not ladylike nor elegant, but it was so small compared to the rest of her. Franziska got the feeling she wouldn't be standing up again anytime soon.

Closing her eyes, the prosecutor wished she could fall asleep. She wished to sleep for a hundred years like in that fairy tale that a younger witness had once recounted to her before a trial: the girl had been so eager to talk to her about princesses that even she, Franziska von Karma, one of if not the most feared prosecutor in California, had not had the heart to tell her that she hadn't the slightest clue about any of those stories.

With a jolt, she remembered that she'd convicted that witness' mother. To execution.

If her muscles had still been functioning, Franziska was sure that the thought would have had her body tense up. The years she'd passed convicting every opponent of hers were a memory she always managed to suppress just in time, just before the spiral... but her defenses were broken now, her walls shattered under the pressure of exhaustion.

That girl had to grow up without her mother, her brain informed her. You had a bad parent. What would it be like to have none?

Indeed, the victim of that murder had been the father—the child would not have had any other parental figures in her life.

But. But... the woman had been a killer.

What if she was innocent?

No, there was plenty of evidence pointing towards the guilty verdict.

There was also plenty of evidence pointing to the innocent verdict.

No, it had not been presented in court. There hadn't been any.

You made sure it wasn't presented, but it was there.

No, I...

You killed an innocent woman. She was lead out of the courtroom and right to her death.

No.

What about all the others? All the other defendants you murdered, all those people whose lives were cut short?

No!

They had children, some of them. They had happy lives. Some had just become adults, just gotten a degree, just gotten married, just gotten—

NO!

She twitched on the ground, trying desperately to curl into a ball. It didn't work.

“No, no, no no no no...”

Franziska sobbed for the first time in more than a decade, alone in her apartment, as her past jumped on the opportunity to persecute her. Her throat stopped working; it felt like she was about to throw up at any moment.

Had it always felt like this, when she cried?

What her subconscious was saying was true, of course. She didn't really know if all the 'murderers' she'd convicted were guilty. But... that was her job, right? It was her job to get to the guilty verdict, the only task she had once she stepped foot in the courtroom.

She recalled hearing about one of Miles' stranger cases not long before she'd faced off against Phoenix Wright for the first time: her brother had aided the defense once he'd understood that the defendant was innocent, all to get to the real culprit. At the time, Franziska had thought it quite foolish—Miles had lost, even when he could have won.

But the man, the actor that had played the Steel Samurai, he'd been innocent, and he'd gotten acquitted thanks to Miles' help. If it had been Franziska there, Will Powers would be dead by now.

When she'd lost to Wright for the first time, it had felt like the beginning of the end. Was she losing her edge already? Was she weakening? Was she forgetting her father's teachings? Now, she realized she hadn't lost anything—she shouldn't have felt as though she'd lost anything. That day, justice had won... in the form of Wright, of course, but justice nonetheless. Maya Fey had not murdered anybody.

Maya Fey... Maya Fey...

Maya Fey was the only 'victim' of hers that was still alive. She was the only one that had faced Franziska's accusations and had been able to tell the story. Nobody could apologize to the dead, but the living... the living were still within reach.

Within reach. Like her phone. Her phone with the number of the Wright and Co. Law Offices in it, courtesy to court record.

It had been a year since that case. Did—no, of course they remembered her. It wasn't like that had been the only time she'd faced off against the spiky-haired attorney. Plus, she liked to think she was somewhat memorable. And, well... who could ever forget being accused of murder?

Franziska found the contact painstakingly slowly, her finger trembling all throughout, her vision blurred. When she pressed the call button, her hand fell limp once more, tired as if she'd just written a ten page report in one sitting.

“Wright and Co. Law Offices, how may I help you?”

That was most definitely not Wright's voice. Franziska had never paid much attention to Maya Fey, but she guessed that it was her speaking.

The silence must have unnerved the other woman, because she coughed.

“Um, hello? If this is a joke or something...”

The prosecutor unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth and rasped out an answer. “Good... evening.”

“...is everything okay? Who is this?”

The Fey girl asking whether things were okay before wondering who the caller was wracked another sob from Franziska's chest. This woman could have been dead by now, if it hadn't been for Wright.

“Woah, woah, wh—who—“

“Miss Fey.”

“...Uh, yes?”

“I'm sorry.” The tears flowed down her face at an odd angle, seeing as she was still laying on the floor. “I'm so sorry.”

“...”

“You—I almost killed you. I almost killed you!” A headache was forming in the back of her head, threatening her with its pain. “Maya Fey...”

“Miss von Karma? What...”

Of course she'd recognize her voice. It was the voice that almost got her executed! “I apologize. I know—I know. I know you must hate me, hate me so much for what I almost did to you—“

“Miss von Karma. Are you okay?”

“Wh—“ Franziska's eyes shot wide open, despite her head's continued protests. “WHY WOULD YOU ASK WHETHER I'M OKAY?”

“Uh, you're crying?”

“I almost murdered you! I should be the one to ask—are you... okay? Are you okay, Miss Fey?”

“...are you alone right now? Are you drunk, or something?”

“Yes. No. I do not drink; not of age yet. Are you okay?”

“Not of age—listen. Where are you?”

“At home. Are you okay?” Franziska's tone started to lilt towards desperate. She needed to know. She had to. Did she permanently ruin the girl's life? Did she still have nightmares about murder and standing there, helpless, in court?

“Where is your house?”

Mindless, unable to concentrate on anything but her suddenly spinning head, the prosecutor offered her entire address without a second thought. Her mind had forgotten who it even was she was talking to: the only thing she could add was the same question she'd repeated before. “Are you oka—“

“Listen. I'm gonna hang up now, but don't worry. Hang in there.” A long sigh.“I'm coming over.”

The click of Maya Fey hanging up rang through Franziska's throbbing head.

Chapter Text

Franziska couldn't quite remember what happened between the end of the phone call and Maya's arrival, but it couldn't have been anything drastic; she'd been too tired to open her eyes but too anxious to fall asleep, so she'd most likely just laid there. After what felt like ages, she heard voices outside her door and then the subsequent noise of a key turning.

“Thanks!” a chipper voice exclaimed way too close and way too loud for Franziska's liking. The door closed once more and the medium took off her shoes, immediately making her way over to where the prosecutor was laying.

“Dear God,” she murmured. “I knew something was off!”

Franziska closed her eyes tight, gritting her teeth through the pain that the sharp sound generated inside her head.

“Sorry,” the voice whispered.

Despite her eyes being closed, the woman could tell when Maya turned off most of the lights. She felt the other woman shuffle around and then grunt as she moved something heavy.

“Just gonna,” she panted, “move your coffee table. So you have more space down here.”

Franziska sighed. More space for what?

Shegot her answer soon enough: the medium turned her over so that her back was on the floor and she was facing the ceiling. Then, the sound of her feet pit pattered towards the bedrooms, opening doors here and there; was she looking for something?

Suddenly, Maya was back and picking her up bridal style, one hand under her shoulders and the other under her knees. She was brought quickly but gently towards her room and deposited on the freshly washed covers. The medium then yanked off her socks, her jewelry, and her shirt before tucking her underneath the sheets with a softness that the prosecutor would never have expected.

After making sure that her cropped hair was laid out on the pillow in a way that didn't leave any strands trapped beneath her neck or inside her undershirt, Maya brought her a slightly wet cloth to put on her forehead. She even made sure that she was propped up enough to ensure that none of the liquid would stain her bed covers.

Franziska had kept her eyes closed the entire time, although her irregular breathing—certainly noted by the perceptive medium—gave away the fact that she wasn't asleep. She didn't particularly want to open them anytime soon, fearful of what she'd see: a pitying expression? an annoyed one?

The prosecutor didn't know which would feel worse.

The phone call had drained her. Even her mind was quiet now, the silence broken only by her guest's shuffling as she brought over a chair and made herself comfortable next to Franziska's bed. It felt suffocating. She should say something.

“How...”

“Hmm?”

“How did you into the apartment?” Not exactly the best conversation starter, but Maya did not, in fact, possess a key, which therefore made it strange that she'd managed to enter without the owner of the house allowing her in. The prosecutor finally pried open her eyelids.

“I told the fancy concierge woman you've got that I was a friend of yours. I said I wanted to check up on you because you were bedridden.”

Franziska raised an eyebrow. “And she let you in... just like that?”

“Um, no. She asked me a couple questions first, like my name and age. Oh, and she quizzed me on who you were. Kinda nerve-wracking, actually.”

The prosecutor simply hummed. “You must have answered correctly, if you are here now.”

Much to her surprise, Maya blushed ever so slightly. “Yeah.”

A moment passed during which neither party knew how to continue the conversation. Franziska was the first to break it, thinking she should probably apologize again.

“Don't worry about it, really,” the medium chirped once the woman had finished saying sorry. “I mean, it wasn't that long of a drive. I was just helping Nick sort through a filing cabinet that's probably old enough to have seen the dinosaurs go extinct.”

Nick... ah, Phoenix Wright. Right.

Maya launched into a detailed explanation of the shenanigans she and her best friend had been up to in the past few weeks, which involved an alarming amount of clowns for some reason. She also began telling the prosecutor all about the recent developments in Kurain Village: Pearl Fey had apparently managed to channel spirits two days in a row, an event that had absolutely delighted the older medium.

“Pearl Fey,” Franziska murmured. “Yes, I remember her. She is... a force to be reckoned with.”

Maya laughed wholeheartedly. “I agree with you there.”

“I only wish the two of us had met under better circumstances.” The prosecutor paused, and swallowed thickly. “The same goes for you.”

The medium ducked her head, expression suddenly serious. “I was quite surprised when you called,” she admitted. “You sounded so—so out of character!”

Franziska sighed and scrubbed at her eyes. “I am aware; these past few weeks have been horrible to me. I think my body simply gave up as a sign of protest.”

“A lot of work?” She nodded. “Ah, that's unfortunate. I heard you work for Interpol now, is it harder somehow?”

“Not harder—longer. A lot more hours than I am used to. I still... I still prosecute from time to time... but my method has changed, somewhat.”

Maya's eyes softened and she looked to be on the verge of saying something, but was interrupted by the biggest yawn Franziska had ever yawned. “Woah, steady there! Might crack your jaw open.”

“That must be avoided, indeed. How would I be able to yell at my subordinates?”

The medium giggled, but quickly put on a determined face. “You're going to sleep now, missy,” she ordered. “I've no doubt that this is the first break you've gotten in a while. Don't work, stay in the house, and enjoy it.”

Franziska found it hard to protest. Maya was very persuasive, and she was very tired.

As her guest turned off the lights, closed the blinds, and then settled in the living room, the prosecutor couldn't help but wonder at the strange experience she'd just had. Maya had not asked her exactly why she'd called her—although she might have guessed—and also had not acted as though Franziska breaking down was something shameful or too private. She had treated her like a friend... despite everything.

Of course, she and the medium were not friends. But... perhaps that could be changed.

–

Franziska awoke the next morning to a cool breeze flitting across her face. Her limbs no longer felt like lead, nor did her head pound: it was probably the best night's sleep she'd gotten in months.

Nevertheless, she did not remain in bed for long. The clock told her it was ten in the morning—an atrociously late time to be waking up, in her opinion—so she headed over to the living room. As she'd predicted, Maya was nowhere to be found; in her place, a folded up piece of paper lay on the kitchen island alongside a platter of cookies and a bottle of fruit juice.

The prosecutor picked up the note and unfolded it carefully.

Hey miss von Karma! I'm sorry I couldn't be here when you eventually wake up, but I have some business to attend to at the Agency. I found these cookies in your pantry and thought it a good idea to prepare them here for you—if you eat them all with a couple of glasses of orange juice, you'll feel much better in no time at all. I'm glad you called me, even if it was at such a dire time and for such a sad reason. If you ever want to talk again, especially about the topic you broached yesterday, send me a text anytime.

Below was a string of numbers that Franziska could only guess was the medium's phone number. A small smile played on her lips as she imagined the rather short Master-to-be trying to reach for the cookies she kept on the very top shelf of her pantry.

Once more, the woman found herself truly moved by the altruism that Maya had shown in her regards. The entire basis of her breakdown the day before had been the gut-wrenching guilt that she felt towards her past victims and towards the medium, and yet that same medium had not hesitated to come to her aid, help her up, and even make sure she ate the next morning. Maya was obviously a very selfless person with a bright, optimistic attitude. Franziska envied her quite a lot.

Franziska was also determined to not have to repeat the events of the evening prior anytime soon. Today was, as her guest had so correctly guessed, a responsibility-free day for her, as the next seven days would also be. Therefore, she had time to finally dedicate herself to the extensive research she wanted to do before downloading the app that her colleague had mentioned all those weeks ago.

As she tried to not let any cookie crumbs fall on her keyboard, the prosecutor looked for the official website for 'Discord'. Despite the word also having an actual meaning in the English language, the first results were for the application—this surely meant that it was widely used and would therefore be able to provide her with the much needed connections she was seeking.

Franziska found out rather quickly what the servers entailed, although the description of each feature they boasted was quite drawn out and complicated; she'd begun studying law at the age of ten, however, so there was no way it would be a match for her.

Her original plan had been to conduct research and then download the app, but her impatience was quickly getting the best of her. Such a refreshingly restful night had contributed a lot to her stamina and her general feeling of well-being, two conditions that made her head clearer and her thought process faster—she just... couldn't wait. It was such a foreign feeling that the prosecutor simply let herself feel it for a while, smiling faintly at her kitchen cabinets.

“All right,” Franziska huffed after a while. “That's enough 'feeling it'. Let's see...”

The download did not take as long as she'd feared: a strong WiFi connection and a brand new computer could have that effect. She immediately clicked the app icon when it popped up on her desktop, and clenched her hands above the keyboard in anticipation.

Instead of showing her a screen with a search bar for servers, another window appeared. Franziska's giddiness immediately melted into horror.

She'd have to choose a username.

Woe of woes! What could she choose? Surely not her own name, or even her surname: anyone with a search engine might be able to trace both of those back to her, especially if they'd already heard her name before. There was no way she was coming up with something like the examples the page showed her, which involved too many inelegant strings of numbers and an alarming number of 'x's. Looking at some suggestions on the Internet reminded her of the term 'cringe' that she'd heard more and more recently around people her age or younger these days. Really, who in their right mind would even think to use some of them?

After a half hour of brainstorming, Franziska eventually settled on anonymous yet also personal 'Zika'. Zika was a nickname given to her when she'd been about six or seven by one of the older maids that worked at her father's ancient estate. One day, the woman had accidentally called her by it in front of her father, and had ended up fired because of it.

(The fact that she still remembered what it was was sign enough of the weight that memory held.)

And so, after putting her email address in and choosing a strong enough password (which she immediately committed to memory), Franziska was ready to delve into the world of this application. The search bar for the servers finally presented itself, so she immediately typed 'Steel Samurai' and pressed the little magnifying glass on the right.

The prosecutor had predicted that the number of options would be quite daunting, which meant she wasn't much surprised when the list turned out to be long. The first ten or so results counted more than a thousand people each at minimum: Franziska had wanted to meet new people, yes, but such a quantity was too much. Therefore, she scrolled down until the number of members dropped below five hundred, then chose one at random.

(Often, the prosecutor liked to think of the 'what ifs' that her life presented. What if she'd clicked on a different server? What if she hadn't met the people she met? What would have happened? The possibilities were endless, however, so she found it exhausting to ponder over the matter for too long.)

Immediately, she was catapulted in what she recognized as the New Members channel that many larger servers had.

#newcomers

Welcome, @Zika !

Please state the name you wish to be called, age, pronouns, and favorite Steel Samurai episode here! If you want to have access to the NSFW channel, please contact a moderator.

Franziska nodded only to realize that she wasn't actually speaking to anyone. She made sure that her message was grammatically correct before sending it off, rather glad that she'd looked up Internet terminology before downloading the application.

Zika: I wish to be called Zika. I am nineteen years old, and I utilize she and her pronouns. My favorite Steel Samurai episode is Episode 12, Season Two.

The episode was her favorite because it was the last she'd seen with Miles. Franziska looked the message over and smiled in satisfaction, until she realized she hadn't answered the last question.

Zika: I do not wish to be granted access to the NSFW server.

[MEE6]: @Zika Head to #general to talk about any SFW topic you wish. Head to #steelsamurai if you wish to only speak about the show. The other text channels are more specific; read their descriptions to see what is permitted.

#general

Sunman: and that's all really

flo: and we're supposed to just believe you were capale of holding a normal conversation

Tamatama: capale

child of the wasp (wasp): capale

Sunman: and you say i cant speak

flo: i hate all of you nerds

flo: make one typo on this godforsaken server..........

flo: hold on

child of the wasp (wasp): typos are made to get you whaled against flo

flo: wtf

flo: we've got a new member

Sunman: nerd on nerd crime

Sunman: wait huh?

Tamatama: you're joking me

flo: i would never

Zika: Hello.

Sunman: !!

Tamatama: no way

flo: welcome zika!

Tamatama: oh my god a new member

Tamatama: it has been seventy-three years since we last saw one. the water was running out

Zika: Thank you.

Zika: What do you mean? Have you few new members?

Tamatama: sadly

Tamatama: the bigger servers overshadow us

Tamatama: even though weve been here longer >:(

Tamatama: but hey! thanks for joining!! im Tama, the village elder and also server owner

child of the wasp (wasp): most importantly village elder tho

Sunman: it's been so long that we've forgotten how to properly greet people

flo: especially you

Tamatama: Zika you joined at the right time

Tamatama: we're gaining up on sun bc he cant even say hi to his crush without making an absolute fool of himself

Zika: Oh. Poor Sunman. I know little on the subject, but I may be able to offer advice.

Tamatama: oh we've tried giving him all sorts of advice

Sunman: 'advice'

Tamatama: HEY IT WORKED FOR MY BROTHER

Sunman: unless you havent noticed, im not your brother

Tamatama: oh trust me i know. the guy barely knows how to turn on his computer, much less use an app

child of the wasp (wasp): im more concerned about zika's perfect grammar tbh

flo: writing like a posh british monk

child of the wasp (wasp): how many posh british monks do you know flo

flo: like three

child of the wasp (wasp): not the answer i was expecting

Sunman: shes just joined and we're already gonna gang up on her

Sunman: zika im sorry this is just how things go

Zika: Not to worry, Sunman. I enjoy a moment of friendly 'banter' once in a while.

Tamatama: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHH

flo: 'banter'

child of the wasp (wasp): sun your legal name is now Sunman, perfect grammar. nothing you can do about it

Sunman: its in character

Sunman: anyway zika what sort of steel samurai fan are you

Zika: What do you intend?

flo: sun youre too nice. zika, youre not avoiding the roast session forever

Tamatama: its a rite of passage at this point

Sunman: ahem.

Sunman: i mean, do you watch it all the time every day or do you like. see one ep a month

child of the wasp (wasp): Local Mod 'Sun Man' Clears His Throat During A Text Conversation. More At Nine.

Zika: I have not seen an episode in many years, unfortunately. However, I have been meaning to get back into it as of late, if my heavy workload will allow it.

Sunman: wasp im not gonna hesitate

Sunman: oh wow! so you wanna start watching again? cool cool

flo: the 180 this man just pulled

flo: Zika do you want advice as to where to start up again

Zika: If you are willing to impart it, sure. Thank you.

Tamatama: yes impart it

flo: youve seen at least the first two seasons i suppose. watch the third but not the fourth, its just pointless filler episodes

Sunman: flo you heathen!

Sunman: the fourth season is gods gift to mankind, dont listen to her

flo: maybe the devils gift

Tamatama: we've had this conversation too many times

Tamatama: zika you have such a time consuming job so young?

Zika: Indeed. Although it is my passion, it can often be difficult to maintain other connections and hobbies around it.

Tamatama: im in a similar situation actually

child of the wasp (wasp): it is indeed hard to maintain hobbies when youre jail tama

child of the wasp (wasp): and you go to jail like every two months

Zika: … Interesting.

Tamatama: zika dont listen to wasp hes being dramatic

Tamatama: ive only gone to jail like twice so far

child of the wasp (wasp): “so far”

Tamatama: and even then it was bc id been framed so

Zika: What an eventful life you lead, Tama. I would say it is more eventful than any I've heard of, but it would not be the truth. I work with some... unique individuals.

flo: i can already tell youll fit right in with us zika

Sunman: just as long as you watch and enjoy the fourth season

Sunman: and thats a threat

Tamatama: dont threaten the new arrival sun

Zika: I will threaten right back.

flo: anyway zika i believe we mentioned the convo we were having before you joined

Sunman: Flo.

flo: pulling out the perfect grammar and punctuation wont deter me, fool

flo: your destiny was decided when you decided to tease tama about her love life

flo: you knew the consequences

Sunman: so i did

Zika: Sunman's romantic endeavors, I believe?

child of the wasp (wasp): you believe correctly my friend

child of the wasp (wasp): tama, take it away. i can see you typing furiouly

Sunman: furiouly

Tamatama: furiouly

flo: furiouly

child of the wasp (wasp): im never speaking again in my life

Tamatama: anyway

Tamatama: sun has got a crush on a colleague

Sunman: not exactly a colleague *

Tamatama: who

Sunman: ?

Sunman: ...the guy im probably in love with?

Tamatama: asked

Sunman:

flo: the gift of speech has been rescinded

Tamatama: anyway this colleague is allegedly quite hot and talented and cool according to him

Tamatama: so much so that outside of work, sun can barely look him in the face without said face turning the same color as tomatoes on the ripest day of their short, delicious lives

Zika: A poetic description. This story is quite interesting, Tama.

Tamatama: i know right

Sunman: honestly i dont know what i did to deserve this

Tamatama: also, sun is like a newbie or something in his line of work, which makes it hard for him to consider himself on the same level

Zika: Ah, that is natural. New workers are obviously less experienced; this does not necessarily mean that they are less talented, however. It is your results that count, not your background.

Sunman: yeah i guess

Tamatama: zika voice of reason

Tamatama: ah let me

@Tamatama changed @Zika 's nickname from 'Zika' to 'Zika (Voice of Reason)'

Tamatama: there we go

Zika (Voice of Reason): I was not aware that you had the capability to change other people's usernames.

Tamatama: its bc im the server owner

Tamatama: i have infinite power over all you mere mortals

Tamatama: if you want me to change it back tell me

Zika (Voice of Reason): No, I find it quite entertaining.

Tamatama: good :)

Tamatama: now where were we

Sunman: fuck

Chapter Text

Franziska found the server interesting, to say the least. These were people that, from what she'd gathered, did not know much about each other—not their real names, where they lived, what they did in their lives—and yet managed to get along with each other just fine. The social interactions they engaged in were genuine and sometimes even personal, even if the only thing they could gather about their fellow server members was their personality.

The prosecutor thought about this point the day after as she relaxed on her couch. There were some last-minute papers she still had to sort through regarding the investigation she'd just finished, but they wouldn't take long. Her mind was allowed to wander for a short bit.

When she interacted with people in real life, Franziska found that her reputation and occupation often preceded her. Her subordinates were (rightfully) scared of her, her few colleagues kept their respectful distances, and the police officers she worked with didn't even dare to look her in the eye. Since she was little, she'd always thought this to be a positive aspect of the way she held herself... but now she couldn't help thinking that it was a bit, well, alienating.

Online, however, nobody knew who she truly was. None of the people she'd met the day before were aware that she was an internationally renowned lawyer; they didn't know how piercing and frightening her glare was; they didn't know about the horrible reputation she'd had up until not long ago. The only bias they could form was in regards to her personality, which—when one got used to it—was not even that horrible.

It felt... freeing.

The owner of the server was an upstanding, honest person whom Franziska even found almost amusing at times. Her relentless yet friendly teasing towards 'Sunman' was, frankly, hilarious: the guy couldn't hold his ground against her even if he tried, and the prosecutor got the feeling that he was used to the banter by now.

She really couldn't understand why they'd been surpassed by other groups. Those users... they'd almost seemed like one happy family, all on the same wavelength.

Family.

Yes, Franziska had had a lot of trouble using the word. Family was determined by a genetic bond and dictated by relationships set in stone since birth: at least, this was what Franziska had thought most of her life. When she had found out that her brother was not actually tied to her by blood—a revelation that had come when she'd been about eleven—she'd tried to distance the thought of 'Miles' from that of 'family'. Her only 'real' family was Manfred, she'd realized.

However, she had never managed to cut the two definitions apart completely. Miles was family. So what was family, really? Certainly not only genetic bonds.

Family was a group of people that one considered to be safe. That one felt accepted by. That one could turn to for help at any time, anywhere, for any reason.

Franziska frowned at her laptop, propped open on her coffee table. She'd been accidentally pressing down the letter 'a' on her keyboard as she thought, and now her document was some twenty pages of nonsense. A sigh.

…

Another sigh. There was no way she was going to be able to concentrate again. It was almost lunchtime, and her stomach had begun growling. Plus, she was still slightly worn out despite the day of rest. The papers could wait.

One thing that couldn't wait, apparently, was the thought of Miles that continued to plague the prosecutor even as she sat down to eat in the kitchen. Her brother... the last time she'd seen him had been a couple months prior, and it had been an accident. She'd run into him in the hallway, nodded curtly, and then had left to go work on one of the half dozen cases she'd been tied up with at the time. No calls or messages since then... and she knew quite well that it was not his fault.

Indeed, Miles was the kind of person that saw most relationships as either incredibly important or mere formalities, depending on the level of confidence he had with the other party. In both of these aspects, however, her brother never forgot to check up regularly on acquaintances and friends, making sure that his social obligations were neatly taken care of as everything else of his was.

So, if the two hadn't talked in some time... well, it meant that Miles thought Franziska would prefer it to be so. Perhaps it might have been like that before. But she'd changed.

By following this line of logic, it was her fault that she hadn't seen him in a while.

What a depressing thought.

Yes, it was truly a shame. The prosecutor dearly wished she had someone to talk to about this matter... but oh, it was so private! What acquaintances did she have with whom to speak of such delicate topics?

No one, really. No one, except...

This is the start of your private messaging history with user @Tamatama .

Tama was by far the most mature in the server, and was also close in age with Franziska. As long as she did not reveal too much information, the woman found herself sure that it would be a wonderful idea to ask the server owner for some advice.

She allowed herself a moment or two to marvel at the rapidity with which the other woman had gotten into her good graces, then began typing out a message.

Zika: Hello, Ms. Tama. I hope I am not interrupting or bothering you with this message.

Zika: There is something I would like to discuss with you.

Franziska had spent the better part of the previous day chatting away with Tama and the others and had therefore ended up learning some of their patterns when it came to being online and typing in the chats. There were some users that only talked at certain times of day or on specific channels; some that preferred to only talk about the Steel Samurai and not intervene when the conversation became more personal; some even that simply watched from afar, never talking in any channel whatsoever and content with not being part in the daily life of the server.

Tama, being the server owner, seemed to be online almost always—and if she wasn't, she updated her profile status to reflect the reason. Now her icon bore a little green circle next to it, so she would probably reply in less than a minute if Franziska had judged her correctly.

Tamatama: oh!! hey zika!!

Tamatama: no problem at all, dw

Tamatama: whats up?

Zika: I find myself in a confusing situation I.R.L. and am not sure of what to do.

Tamatama: proud of u for figuring out what irl means, although the dots arent necessary

Tamatama: but go on, im all ears

Zika: I have a brother, with whom I haven't talked to in a while. We've never been particularly close, but I would very much like to mend our relationship and begin speaking regularly again.

Zika: My problem is: how?

Tamatama: oh

Tamatama: hmmmm

Tamatama: well im just gonna start by saying that since i dont know your precise situation idk if my advice will be of any help

Zika: That's fine, don't worry.

Tamatama: so do you have his phone number or smth

Zika: Yes, of course. He and I share a profession, and sometimes have to confront our work for optimal performance.

Tamatama: ohh

Tamatama: so its not like you never see him

Zika: Exactly.

Tamatama: and your dilemma is that youd like to start talking again for non work related purposes

Zika: That is correct.

Tamatama: well... it doesnt have to be as hard as you make it, zika

Tamatama: ive often found that problems that seem to be insurmountable are actually not that difficult to solve when it comes down to it

Tamatama: why not simply invite him for a quick lunch at a restaurant?

Tamatama: nothing too fancy or anything, just what you can afford

Zika: I can afford fancy.

Tamatama: what a girlboss

Zika: I cannot believe you just said that.

Tamatama: anyway, from what i gather your job is pretty fancy as well... so i fear that inviting him to a fancy restaurant might look like youre trying to talk about work

Zika: Ah, I see.

Zika: I dislike fast food joints, however. He does as well.

Tamatama: is there no middle ground lol

Tamatama: like a nice, quaint cafè or smth

Zika: Yes. Do you suggest something of the sort?

Tamatama: im thinking its the best option, yeah

Tamatama: and when youre there, you start by asking him how its been

Tamatama: im not gonna like script the entire convo for you, but i think you get the gist

Zika: I do indeed. Thank you for your input, Ms. Tama. It was valuable, and it has also helped calm my nerves a little bit.

Tamatama: awww dont worry abt it so much! im sure he wants this just as much as you do

Tamatama: and its good that you want to mend ties with him

Tamatama: it means that something has changed either in him or in you, and its made it possible for you two to be brought back together

Zika: I believe it was a joint effort... both of us have changed since we lived together.

Tamatama: for the better?

Zika: For the better. :)

–

It took Franziska about another day to work up the courage to open the messaging app on her phone. It wasn't like her, this hesitation, but... well, it was Miles. Her little brother, whom she had slowly distanced herself from over the course of her life. As much as the feeling had been reciprocated, she couldn't help but feel as though it was mostly her fault.

When she did open the app, however, her fingers almost flew over the keyboard as she typed out a simple message. Short and to the point.

°°°°°°

M.E.

Me: Miles Edgeworth. I would like to dine with you this week. When are you free?

Miles Edgeworth: Hello to you too, Franziska.

Miles Edgeworth: I will have to check my schedule. Lunch or dinner?

Me: Lunch.

Miles Edgeworth: Then Saturday would be fine. I assume we will be meeting at La Cuillère as we did last time?

Me: No. I wanted to propose we dine at the Ivy Tree.

Miles Edgeworth: The cafè near the Prosecutor's Office? The one with the... cats?

Me: Indeed.

Miles Edgeworth: I did not know you were a fan of the place.

°°°°°°

In reality, Franziska had never been; she'd simply overheard some interns talking about it in the past. What she was aware of, however, was the fact that her brother absolutely loved all kinds of animals—including cats, naturally.

°°°°°°

Me: Is that a problem?

Miles Edgeworth: Ha. Not at all.

Miles Edgeworth: I'll be there.

°°°°°°

The prosecutor closed the app and sighed. The thing she'd told Tama... it was true. She felt changed, yes, because she was slowly crawling out from under her father's shadow. But Miles had changed as well.

First of all, he'd taken that sabbatical (if one could really call faking your own death for a year a sabbatical) and had come back a different person in regards to their shared profession. The two of them had been on the same wavelength for the longest time, wholeheartedly believing in the ideals that their father had instilled within them—'victory is the highest reward and the only objective' being the pilaster around which all the others fell. Miles had managed to get rid of that way before she had. He'd broken free thanks to the friendships he'd forged, the lucky bastard.

Franziska supposed she could now say she had a couple friends as well. Lang, for one; Adrian had actually taken her up on her whip-wielding classes, something she honestly hadn't expected; and now, maybe, she could mend ties with her little brother.

She allowed herself a private smile, eyes perhaps a little wet. Yes, everything was going to be quite alright.

–

Franziska found herself standing in front of the cat cafè much sooner than she'd thought she would. Doing things she enjoyed, such as browsing horse riding magazines or chatting on Discord, seemed to make time fly by much quicker than she was used to. The arrival of Saturday almost took her by surprise.

The cafè itself was small and cozy on the inside, with soft seats and a lot of cute cat paraphernalia. The drinking glasses had a picture of a cat engraved in them. The coasters took the shape of a cat. The straws, even, were shaped like tails. It was, to put it simply,adorable.

In the midst of it all—the only customer at the later hour they'd settled on to eat lunch—was Miles. There he sat, in his stuffy three-piece suit and his ruffles, surrounded by a total of four meowing, purring cats who were all vying for his attention.

She'd never seen him look more at peace than in that moment.

Franziska walked over to her brother, making sure not to step on any stray paws. The booth he'd picked was in the far corner, no doubt chosen so as to have a nice view of the small side street outside.

“Franziska,” Miles greeted.

My goal is to mend ties, the prosecutor reminded herself. “Hello, Miles.”

He chuckled as she sat down opposite him. “No full names this time?”

She shook her head. Relax your face. “I'm not going to refer to you by your entire name anymore.”

“Why not?”

“You're my brother.”

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Franziska...” A pause. “You look exhausted.”

“Ha! I'm aware, yes. This is my first week off after months of hard toil. Interpol dragged me halfway across the country, then back.”

“I also heard you prosecuted a couple of cases last month. How'd that go?”

Franziska lost herself in a retelling of said trials until the waitress came to take their order. The first had been a victory: a man had murdered his two children in cold blood and then had tried to pin it on the neighbor. Even now, all these weeks after the case had been solved, she felt her back straighten with pride at the memory of her crushing success.

The second, on the other hand, she'd lost. But even so... she told Miles all about it, including the part where her opponent congratulated her on a job well done.

“I'm sure that must have been annoying,” her brother mused. “Hearing such a thing after one has lost, I mean.”

Franziska shrugged. “He was right, though. I had done a good job. Plus, I could tell he meant it.” A huff, as she remembered the rest of the scene. “The foolish fool ran away immediately after, in fear of my whip!”

“But you got him in the end, no?”

The prosecutor shook her head curtly. “I did not have it with me at the time.”

Miles set down his glass on the cat coaster with a surprised expression. “You didn't bring your whip to a trial?”

Taking a deep breath, Franziska looked him in the eye somewhat sternly.

“What?”

“Miles.”

“...Yes?”

“You like to tell me that you changed. You've repeated it over and over since the day you came back from your faked suicide. You advise me continuously to reconsider my approach to justice, and trials, and my life in general. And yet...” She smiled, shaking her head slightly. “You do not notice when I actually start heeding your advice.”

Miles definitely looked surprised then, but the expression almost immediately melted into one of relief and happiness. “That's very good to know. May I ask... may I ask what brought this upon you?”

Hatred for our father. Collapsing. A certain medium. “I'm afraid that's private.” She sighed. “But you were definitely an important part, little brother. I do not think I would have been capable of even these slight changes had you not pointed out the right way.”

“I can't take all the credit.”

“That's correct, you can't. But you won this one, Miles. You got there before me, and I must acknowledge that.”

Her brother's eyes widened, then he started laughing loudly. Franziska looked around the establishment, glad that there was no one to witness this rather embarrassing outburst. “Everything does not have to be a race, dear Franziska. I didn't 'get there first'. After all, I figured all of this out at an older age than you did, no?”

Franziska shrugged.

“And I had help.”

“I did too,” she protested. “Yours, and—“

“And?”

“...Um, well. I didn't manage to change alone, either.”

“That's a given, dear sister. I had to rely on those around me to get out of the hole I'd fallen into, and so did you. It's how us humans work, is it not? We are a social species, in need of those helping hands that our loved ones extend. The first step, I'm afraid, is the hardest: accepting those outstretched hands. And yet the both of us have already made it past this one.”

“...You are a lucky man, Miles.”

“Why do you say so?”

“You have many loved ones. The Feys, Scruffy, other prosecutors. You even have your... boyfriend. The fool Phoenix Wright.”

“I can confidently say that it is largely due to Phoenix that I am here today, yes.” Her brother clasped his hands together, rested his head on them, and looked Franziska straight in the eyes. “However, I'm afraid you missed one person.”

She scoffed. “Who would that be?”

“You.”

“Me? I did not help. If anything, I was a hindrance... going on and on about 'perfection' and all that bullshit!” Her voice rose a bit at the end of the sentence, but Miles didn't seem to mind.

“Hindrance... no, I wouldn't say that. Part of why I wanted to change was to set an example for you. After all, you are and will always be my younger sister.”

“I was afraid that you might not manage to get rid of Manfred's conditioning without a role model, someone who you feared was 'getting ahead' of you. I was perfect for the job, Franziska. I wanted to help you, so I helped myself.”

“That does not make any... sense...”

“Does it?”

Franziska hung her head, trying her absolute best to hide her watery eyes.

In that very moment, the waitress came back with their orders. “A Calico Sandwich for the young lady and a...” she paused, and her brother cringed slightly, “...Cat-Tastic Super-Sized Kitty Salad for you, sir.”

The prosecutor snapped her head up.

A moment of silence reigned as the woman made her way back to the kitchen. Miles became more and more red as her steps faded away, while his sister watched him with a slowly widening grin.

When the door to the cooking area closed, Franziska deemed it safe to burst out laughing right in her brother's face.

Her only regret that day was not having been present when Miles had placed his order.

Chapter Text

4:56 p.m.

Private messages: @Tamatama

Tamatama: so how did it go

Zika: Quite well. I thank you for your advice.

Tamatama: ah dont mention it! glad i could help

Zika: :)

7:10 p.m.

#general

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Thats actually a good plan

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): It could work, we just need an infiltrator

flo: what if i told you i know a gal who works for global studios

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Would she be up for this?

flo: hell yeah

Tamatama: she in position to do something like that?

flo: she has friends in high places

Tamatama: ill take care of the legal repercussions then

Tamatama: I too have friends in high places

Zika (Voice of Reason): What are we talking about?

Sunman: yeah id like to know too

Sunman: the phrase 'legal repercussions' worries me for some reason

flo: i am intrigued more by tamas 'friends in high places'

Tamatama: im more than a server owner dearest flo

Tamatama: im a businesswoman through and through, ill let you know

Zika (Voice of Reason): Still waiting on an answer. If necessary, however, I also have useful acquaintances.

flo: now THAT doesnt surprise me at all

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): We want to infiltrate the studios, send out a survey on their twitter as to who likes what ship, and then ban any and all people who select 'pinksteel' from buying merch

Sunman: that sounds complicated

Sunman: but justified

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Theyd need to be banned from cons as well for it to be truly devastating

Zika (Voice of Reason): How would one know who voted and who did not? Shopkeepers cannot check every single person's Twitter account as they walk into a shop.

Tamatama: we mean buying it online, since twitter accs are linked to an email

Sunman: im sure theres a better way

Sunman: we could hack their twitter to post 'magisteel canon' or smth

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): They could just take that back tho

Tamatama: itd give em a big ol scare >:)

Zika (Voice of Reason): I do not wish to be 'that person', but I believe this to be a plan doomed to fail.

Zika (Voice of Reason): Not only would hacking their Twitter and posting something mean it'd simply be deleted immediately, but your aforementioned friend would probably get fired if they found out.

Zika (Voice of Reason): I'm not sure I would be up to that.

Sunman: THANK YOU

flo: bummerrr

Tamatama: this is why we call you voice of reason

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): More like voice of treason

jewel isnt dead: that was a good one!!!!!

Tamatama: jewel youre not dead

jewel isnt dead: read the sign V●ᴥ●V

jewel isnt dead: anyway

jewel isnt dead: ive been summoned by sun's distressed private messages ♪┏(・o･)┛♪

Sunman: oh god

Sunman: uh jewel you can just ignore those

Sunman: i wasnt thinking straight

jewel isnt dead: thats for sure!!! (∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

jewel isnt dead: but if you dont want me to talk abt them thats fine lol

jewel isnt dead: its just im not too good at giving that kind of advice hehe

Sunman: neither are any of these weirdos

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Looks like everyone else is just gonna ignore that great pun I made back there

Zika (Voice of Reason): Teasing Sun for his romantic inadequacy seems to be a recurring theme.

Tamatama: its a once-a-day thing

flo: one sun tease a day keeps the doctor away

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): He is making progress

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Young Padawan

Tamatama: wait

Tamatama: waaaaaait

Tamatama: what if we changed target

Sunman: oh god yes please

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Hey dont throw us under the bus

Tamatama: not you >:)

Zika (Voice of Reason): I have a bad feeling.

Tamatama: ziiiiiika my friend my pal my bro

Sunman: sorry zika but i cannot find it within myself to feel anything but elation

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): New blood attracts the tama shark

Tamatama: what say you? have a special someone by any chance?

Zika (Voice of Reason): You reminded me of someone for a second just then.

Zika (Voice of Reason): But no.

Tamatama: anyone youve got your eyes on then?

Zika (Voice of Reason): Also no.

Tamatama: are you suuuuuuure?

flo: im keeping zika in my prayers tonight

Zika (Voice of Reason): I am sure.

Tamatama: suuuuper sure? absolutely one hundred percent no one youre even remotely interested in??

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): The second rite of passage is this zika

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): The rest of us may do nothing more than sit and watch in compassionate trepidation

flo: sometimes i wonder how you manage to pull so many random words out of your ass jim

Zika (Voice of Reason): There is no one, Tama.

jewel isnt dead: shes taking longer and longer to respond each time ʕ•͡ᴥ•ʔ

Zika (Voice of Reason): ...As Tama would say, snitch!

Sunman: did zika just use an exclamation point or am i dreaming

Sunman: nvm boss just hit me over the head with a pipe cleaner. i am not dreaming

flo: top ten statements that we will unpack later

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Top ten statements that dealt me psychic damage

Tamatama: I AM ELATED

Tamatama: SOMEONE ELSE TO TEASE

Sunman: a bittersweet moment for me

Zika (Voice of Reason): Listen...

Tamatama: so there IS someone?? TELL US TELL US

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): more of a cliffhanger than frozen two

flo: again with the pulling words out of your ass

flo: im getting some whiskey for this, brb

Zika (Voice of Reason): I'm afraid that there is absolutely no one at the moment.

Zika (Voice of Reason): But I quite seriously do not wish to say more about this subject.

Tamatama: aww bummer

Tamatama: but ok

Tamatama: all of our banter must be consensual and funny to everyone involved

Sunman: agreed

Sunman: so if you really want us to drop the subject, we will

Zika (Voice of Reason): I do.

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Sorry if we made you uncomfortable

Zika (Voice of Reason): I have otherwise had no adverse reactions to the matter in your 'presence', so you could not have known.

Tamatama: damn

Tamatama: then, as protocol orders, i, the great tama, shall take one for the team

jewel isnt dead: YESSS!! o(^▽^)o

Sunman: it HAS been a while since you updated us on The Pursuit

Zika (Voice of Reason): Oh? You would willingly subject yourself to this lot?

Tamatama: if i dont do it, how can i expect others to do so?

Zika (Voice of Reason): A wise leader.

Tamatama: now where did i leave off

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Last thing you told us was that the two of you had some beef and thats why youre kinda scared of talking to her

Tamatama: oh yes right

Sunman: im guessing there have been developments?

Tamatama: indeed

flo: im back and the convo has shifted significantly

flo: im all ears. and whiskey.

Tamatama: so i went over to her apartment actually

flo: WOAH.

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): This is more than just 'developments'

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): She invited you to her apartment??

Tamatama: about that

Sunman: oh my god dont tell me you just showed up

Sunman: or broke in???

Tamatama: no she did technically invite me, but bc she needed help w something

Tamatama: it wasnt in a romantic or sexy way

flo: what, was she stuck in the washing machine?

Sunman: HAHAH

Tamatama: I will knock your ass out

Tamatama: im not gonna tell you what she needed help with, it was personal!!

Zika (Voice of Reason): But she did think to call you instead of someone else.

Zika (Voice of Reason): That must mean that she considers you close?

Tamatama: im afraid the reason she called me was that what she needed help with... well it had to do with me

Sunman: did you accidentally steal her phone like you did that other time

Tamatama: you insist on bringing that up again? in my house?

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Well it WAS hilarious

flo: i think i still have those screenshots somewhere

Zika (Voice of Reason): That... other time?

jewel isnt dead: the lore of this server is long and complicated <(^oo^)>

Tamatama: listen the reason is difficult to describe

Tamatama: shes difficult to describe

Tamatama: but in a good way, at least for me

Sunman: better complicated than boring imo

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Agreed

Zika (Voice of Reason): Did you end up helping her with what she called you over for?

Tamatama: I think so yeah

Tamatama: did what i could at least

Zika (Voice of Reason): Well then, I'd consider it to be a success.

Tamatama: yeah i guess

Tamatama: i just want her to be comfortable around me

jewel isnt dead: thats not hard tho!! youre a great person ⊂(◜ᴥ◝)つ

Tamatama: thanks jewel but

Tamatama: idk

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Guessing theres lore that were unaware of

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): I mean naturally, since we dont know this girl

Zika (Voice of Reason): Something in your shared past, I presume?

Tamatama: yup

Tamatama: i just... im pretty sure she thinks she owes me

Sunman: and you think she doesnt

Tamatama: yeah its weird,,,, like she did something to me some time ago

Tamatama: but she apologized for it, profusely, so

Sunman: youre a saint tama

Sunman: no doubt you forgave her? unless it was smth really bad

Tamatama: my opinion is that she thinks its much worse than what i think it is

Zika (Voice of Reason): I can understand that.

jewel isnt dead: youre the type that always overthinks things zika?

Zika (Voice of Reason): You got me.

Tamatama: like objectively yes it was a bad thing she did

Tamatama: but i know shes a good person

Zika (Voice of Reason): You must know her very well?

Tamatama: oh not really, sadly

Sunman: you must know, zika, that tama is really good at reading people

Sunman: she says she has to, for her job

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): We have a running theory that tama is like a school teacher that has to deal with upset children on the daily

flo: which is why she can deal with us lol

Zika (Voice of Reason): But most of you are not children?

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): We act like it often

Zika (Voice of Reason): Ah. Yes, that much is true.

flo: zika switching up real quick

Tamatama: yeah its true im good at reading people

Tamatama: which is why i KNOW shes not evil

Tamatama: she was just

flo: unlucky?

Tamatama: yeah

Tamatama: shes changed a lot and im proud of her

Zika (Voice of Reason): Sounds like you like her a lot. Is she also into you, that you know of?

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Zikas invested bro we got another one

Sunman: seeing how quickly she jumped on the Tease Sun Train, im not surprised

Zika (Voice of Reason): …

Zika (Voice of Reason): If you promise not to tell a soul I said this, will you keep a secret?

Tamatama: fuck yeah

Sunman: my lips are zipped

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Im ready

flo: sure thing boo

Zika (Voice of Reason): I am actually an avid reader of romance novels.

Zika (Voice of Reason): ...I enjoy living vicariously through them.

Tamatama: HELP

Tamatama: YOURE WORSE OFF THAN I AM

Sunman: you read steel samurai fanfic and cry over it at three in the morning because your crush doesnt like you back

Sunman: id be quiet if i were you

Zika (Voice of Reason): I haven't ever told anybody this.

Zika (Voice of Reason): Weird feeling.

flo: the power of internet friendships

flo: since you dont actually know each other you can tell people secrets without it impacting your professional figure ig

flo: its quite freeing

Zika (Voice of Reason): I agree.

Tamatama: anyway to answer your question zika

Tamatama: idk if she likes me back, but im leaning heavily towards no

Zika (Voice of Reason): How come?

Tamatama: well apart from the fact that we barely talk – but thats actually not that weird considering what we both do for a living is wildly different and often incompatible

Tamatama: and given that i barely see her

Tamatama: and given that we exchanged phone numbers like............ a week ago

Sunman: WAHT

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Youre telling me that the woman youve been pining after for months didnt even have your number until now???

jewel isnt dead: dumb tama confirmed (╥ ﹏╥ )

Tamatama: listen

flo: ears wide open

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Im gonna take that one out of context flo

Tamatama: APART FROM THE FACT THAT WE BARELY TALK.

Tamatama: she is a very... unique person

Tamatama: and im pretty sure shes not used to expressing any kind of affection :( which is super sad and i kinda want to teach her

Tamatama: so its quite hard to figure out whats going through her head at any given time

Sunman: im still having a hard time believing that youve been teasing me abt MY crush this entire time

Sunman: while YOU were sitting here having these kinds of dilemmas

Zika (Voice of Reason): That is a tough situation, Tama. I am sorry that you are stuck in it.

flo: some advice from your romance novels, zika?

Zika (Voice of Reason): I am regretting.

jewel isnt dead: regret is a recurring emotion within our group

flo: how about this

flo: to cheer you up, tama, we will all share our most embarrassing romantic story with you, in as much depth as we are comfortable with

Tamatama: oh that WOULD cheer me up

flo: then its decided

Sunman: woah i didnt agree to this

flo: this is not a democracy. there will be no vote.

Sunman: yes maam

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Ill go first then, im actually up for a good laugh at my expense

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Once i was on a plane with my date

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Ordered some red wine

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Accidentally spilled it all over her extremely pretty, extremely elegant, extemely out-of-my-price-range silk pants

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): But she didnt see bc she was facing the other way

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): So I blamed it on the turbulence.

flo: NOOOOO

Tamatama: HAHAHAHH

Zika (Voice of Reason): Did it work?

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Yeah she believed it

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Never told her

jewel isnt dead: wow

flo: i am currently losing it

flo: just imagining you side-eyeing her to make sure she didnt see anything

Zika (Voice of Reason): I'm fairly sure she knew, but wanted to spare your feelings. Since you called her a 'date' and not a 'girlfriend', maybe she was afraid it would make things too awkward between two people who did not know each other well.

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Jesus zika please dont do this to me

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): I sincerely hope thats NOT what happened

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Someone else go before i combust

jewel isnt dead: i have one thats mostly just cringey T^T

Tamatama: those are the best kind jewel

jewel isnt dead: basically i just wanted to edit the wikipedia article for 'perfection' to the word 'you' and then show my crush (*^3^)

jewel isnt dead: b4 you shame me for corny behavior just know that i was thirteen at the time

flo: im gonna shame you anyway lmaooooooo

flo: this ones going in the screenshots

Tamatama: and?? what happened?? did they laugh at you?

jewel isnt dead: no i didnt even get to show him bc wikipedia banned my entire account from editing for a year for 'inappropriate changes'

Sunman: OH

Sunman: HAHAHHA

Tamatama: no fucking way

jewel isnt dead: my heart just sank right then and there

jewel isnt dead: i was kinda scared the fbi would come get me or smth x_x

Tamatama: HELP

Sunman: this is nothing compared to my story

Sunman: i have one in front of my crush and then one in front of someone else who im not romantically attracted to

Sunman: which first

Tamatama: do the not-crush one first so we save the best for last

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Agreed

Sunman: gotcha

Sunman: met my crush's boss once

Sunman: MY boss told me that the guy likes jokes if theyre executed the correct way, theory that has been confirmed by other people who know him

Sunman: so i... made one

Sunman: still remember it to this day, might even have dreamt it once

Sunman: the whole thing went 'why do they call them lifts in the uk and elevators in the us? because we're raised differently'

Sunman: since we were standing next to an elevator you know

Sunman: i manage to say the first part

Sunman: guy turns to me with a completely straight face—scary, let me tell you—and says 'my father died in an elevator'

Tamatama: NOOOOOOOOOOO AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Zika (Voice of Reason): That's... unfortunate.

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): That is the WORST luck ever

flo: THATS ANOTHER FOR MY HALL OF SCREENSHOTS

jewel isnt dead: bet you wanted to sink into the ground right then and there

jewel isnt dead: or... take an elevator

Sunman: no need to rub salt into the wound, jewel

Sunman: moving on, quickly

Sunman: the one in front of my crush was

Sunman: I replay it in my mind every evening.

Tamatama: oh god

flo: liking where this is going

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Youll have to say one too, flo

flo: oh dont worry

Sunman: leaving the place we work at right in front of him with my bag

Sunman: swing said bag onto my shoulder, but it knocks into the door frame

Sunman: shit goes flying everywhere

Sunman: he's like, all chivalrous, 'let me help you'

Tamatama: he used The Nickname, didnt he

Sunman: yep

Zika (Voice of Reason): The Nickname?

Tamatama: his crush calles sun by a weird nickname that however he cannot say for privacy lol

Zika (Voice of Reason): Endearing, or weird?

Sunman: a strange mix of both

Zika (Voice of Reason): Based on my romance novel experience, that means that he is quite likely to be interested in you.

Sunman: dont get my hopes up...

flo: get to the juicy part already sun

Sunman: right

Sunman: so he bends down to help me pick up my stuff...

Sunman: and thats when i realized what exactly i had dropped

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Uh oh

Sunman: hes like a celebrity, and he has a bunch of weird merch items

Sunman: i always say hes annoying bc of it

Tamatama: im already snickering

Sunman: guess what was in my bag that day

flo: no fucking way

jewel isnt dead: oh dear!!

Sunman: a mug, a CD, a t-shirt (?), a bunch of stuff from his store just LAYING THERE

Sunman: IT WASNT EVEN MINE IT WAS MY COWORKER'S

Sunman: he smirks, the bastard

Sunman: 'oh * nickname * I didnt know you were such a big fan'

Tamatama: on a scale from zero to ripe italian tomato how red were you

Sunman: guess...

Zika (Voice of Reason): This crush of yours reminds me of one of my coworkers. A hilarious scene, I'm afraid... but perhaps cute to him?

Sunman: i can only hope, zika, can only hope...

child of the wasp (wasp): woah

flo: yo wasp

Sunman: oh hey!

child of the wasp (wasp): many messages

Zika (Voice of Reason): We are discussing embarrassing stories.

Tamatama: yeah a lot of messages

child of the wasp (wasp): that i will not be reading

flo: hey rude, im about to present

flo: dont interrupt

Tamatama: guessing you have something to say/ask, wasp?

child of the wasp: yeah, its important and vital

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Ooh im intrigued

child of the wasp (wasp): who wants to work on a steel samurai shrek au?

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): ...And nevermind

Chapter Text

M.

Miles: I am waiting outside.

Miles: I am waiting outside.

Miles: I am waiting outside.

Me: Was it necessary to repeat it thrice?

Miles: When someone doesn't reply, repetition always does the trick.

Me: Through sheer annoyance.

Miles: Indeed.

Me: You have been spening too much time around Wright.

°°°°°°

For the first time in more than a year, Franziska was heading to dinner with people who were not strictly her colleagues. Actually, none of the people who were going to be present worked with her—at least not anymore, not now that the majority of her time was spent helping Interpol. She was still a prosecutor in a technical manner, but the days when she'd prosecute two cases every week (if not more) were far behind her.

Her brother was going to be there, naturally, as was his moronic boyfriend. And where Phoenix Wright goes, so too do Master Maya Fey of the Kurain Village and her adorable little cousin Pearl. Franziska believed Pearl to be one of the very few individuals in the world who deserved her complete and utter respect: a young girl such as her was clearly destinied for great things, what with her determination and complete lack of respect for authority. She'd thought deference a useless thing her whole life, so it had been a relief to meet someone who was on her same wavelength (albeit in a slightly different manner).

Although she'd never admit it, the prosecutor was also somewhat looking forward to seeing Maya. The last time they'd met had been a turning point for Franziska and for the image she'd had of the medium. It would be pleasant to see her again.

“It isn't like you to be late,” Miles huffed when she finally climbed into his ridiculously red sports car. She made sure to accidentally smack the sharp heel of her shoes against the polished metal as she moved her legs inside, earning herself a light smack on the wrist. “Whether you're changing your ways or not.”

“Being on time is, indeed, not a quality I'd like to throw out,” she muttered.

“What took you so long, anyway?”

“I... couldn't find my purse.”

Miles raised an eyebrow, but for a moment it seemed he wouldn't say anything about the obvious lie. Of course, this moment did not last long—you could say that it was technically his brotherly duty to pry and tease. “You can just say you're nervous, you know.”

“Nervous? Please. I don't break a sweat even during the most gruesome of trials.”

“Trials are something quite common for you and I both, Franziska, therefore I know you're more than comfortable during them. It's social situations that we struggle with.”

The corner of her mouth twitched upward at the use of 'we' instead of 'you', but she merely shrugged in response.

“Do promise me one thing,” Miles said after a couple blocks had flashed by them, his foot pressing down hard on the gas pedal like heroes in action movies as they're chased by gun-wielding men dressed in black. Franziska fought the urge to glance in the rearview mirror to make sure that wasn't actually the case.

“Depends on the thing, little brother.”

“Don't berate Phoenix.”

She snorted, her mouth twisting into a pleased grin. “I'm afraid I can't promise that.”

“...Don't berate Phoenix too much?”

“That's already better. How come you let Maya do so?”

“Maya isn't my sister, she's his. Just like I can tease you, she can tease him.”

“And Pearls?”

“Pearl could tease him doubly and I wouldn't say a thing—you know that.”

She shuddered briefly at the thought of her brother trying to tell Pearl she couldn't tease 'Mr. Nick'. What flowers would Miles want at his funeral? she wondered.

The restaurant they'd picked was purposefully elegant, so that Miles or Franziska would have had to cover the bill and the lovebirds wouldn't have gotten into a debate—or worse, an actual, physical contest—about who could throw their credit card into the waiter's hands the fastest. The two prosecutors had dressed up, the eldest wearing a smooth black suit with polished dress shoes and the youngest a pressed white one with tall heels.

The car was left to a valet, and Franziska couldn't help but snicker when she noticed Wright's old, rickety bike leaning against a lamp post nearby. It wasn't even tied. He apparently knew nobody would ever stoop to stealing it.

After she'd been seated, she glanced briefly around the bustling locale. They were naturally the first ones to arrive, despite the delay she'd caused as she'd applied, taken off, and reapplied her make-up at least four times over. For some reason—a reason that she couldn't quite grasp—she felt all amped-up over this simple dinner. It had been a bit since she'd last seen Pearl... was that it? Did she miss the little medium in training?

Franziska didn't have to wonder for long, because that was precisely when she looked up from her seat and saw the Feys heading over to their table.

Pearl was, indeed, a welcome sight to see. She was all dolled up in a pretty pink dress that really brought out her eyes. Some parts of it, like the skirt, looked like they'd been sown by hand; overall a very cute and adorable picture.

But Maya...

The prosecutor felt her heart speed up unusually as she took in the medium's appearance. Maya had gathered her hair in a thick single braid instead of her usual hairdo; it fell elegantly behind her, light reflecting off its glossy surface. As for the attire, the Master of Kurain wasn't wearing her robes, although Franziska had been expecting that. She was... she was wearing...

Franziska swallowed rather loudly.

Purple fell all over Maya's body. The dress wasn't sheer, nor was it racy—that was definitely not the medium's style—but it did hint at her curves more than what she normally wore. She'd have wondered whether it had been her sister's if her brain had been working; as it were, all she could do was watch with slightly wide eyes as the violet-clad Master sat in front of her. Her little magatama was still hanging around her neck, but she was also wearing a thin silver necklace alongside it. Her nails were done and she'd... she'd even put a bit of make-up on. It wasn't much, just eyeliner and mascara, but it accentuated her deep brown eyes like nothing else.

“Maya, you idiot, you're blocking my way to my own seat!” Wright exclaimed then. The medium made a frowny face up at him, and suddenly the ethereal image was broken. Permanently, as she then began scooting back and forth in front of the attorney to purposefully annoy him, with the side effect of stomping on his toes several times.

Oddly, Franziska was still in her trance-like state of adoration. Yes, despite the fact that she was reminded that this was Maya, strange and silly Maya who made ugly faces and helped out people who faint in their apartments! Despite the fact that Maya wasn't even that elegant compared to most of the other women in the establishment, most of which had come for either dates or business meetings and were therefore undeniably overdressed! Despite the fact that Maya had just accidentally kicked her really hard in the shin and hadn't even apologized!

Despite the fact... despite the fact that Maya was a woman.

Franziska blinked and felt herself shiver in shock. She clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Everything all right, Franziska?” Miles asked with a slightly concerned tone from her right, placing a steady hand on her shoulder.

“Oh!” Maya exclaimed. “It must not have been the table leg I kicked. Sorry Franziska!” A pause. “I can call you Franziska, right?”

“You can call me anything you desire,” her mouth said. Her brain, as soon as it caught up, started sounding several alarm bells. Luckily she'd said it in a low tone of voice, so only the medium heard—judging from her momentarily puzzled expression.

“Pearls, make sure not to fall off the chair this time around,” Wright laughed from his end of the table. He was sitting next to his sister, which put him in front of Miles. The small medium was placed at the head of the table, with Franziska on one side and her cousin on the other. As it should be, of course.

“That only happened once, Mr. Nick!” the girl pouted. “And it was Mystic Maya's fault, too. I can sit perfectly fine!”

“You heard her, Phoenix Wright,” Franziska nodded, eternally glad for the stable tone of her voice. She raised an eyebrow. “She can sit perfectly fine. You, on the other hand, apparently cannot.”

Indeed, Wright kept shifting his feet as though plagued by some sort of full body itch. Turning to look at her brother, the prosecutor sighed. “Are you two playing footsies in this extremely high-end, extremely dignified restaurant?”

“Absolutely not,” Miles clarified.

“Yep,” Wright beamed at the same time.

Her brother muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'snitch', but settled down nonetheless. Franziska was then once more left to her own devices, with nothing to distract her from the impending doom that hung over her head, as the waiter came and asked what they'd like to drink.

First stage: denial.

I don't think the dress suits Maya well, she mused as she tried her very best not to stare at said medium. That's why I looked in such a scandalous manner. She nodded to herself, her eyes determinedly not leaving the menu page despite the fact that she'd already chosen what to eat before the Feys had even arrived.

After a minute or so, she dared peek again—but the result didn't change. Her heart was hammering in her chest loud enough that she was sure everybody could hear. They were just sparing her the embarrassment. She shut the menu quite roughly, earning another confused expression from Maya. It was ridiculous how adorable she found it.

Second stage: anger.

This stage was a bit muddled, as Franziska was desperately trying not to have some sort of breakdown in public. The alarms were still ringing loud and clear: she felt her skin heat up as she buried herself in the dish list again, trying to distract herself by murmuring the names of the fancy wine choices under her breath.

Why me? Why was this happening to her? And why now, of all times, as she participated in the only sort of fun she'd managed in so long? She was too old to say that it wasn't fair, but it wasn't fair. It was only a dress—Maya was still Maya, no? But the thought didn't seem like it did much: it was as if a dam had broken within her at the sight of the medium clad in such a wonderful shade of purple, and now the thoughts extended to every aspect of Maya, every shade of her personality. Even the ones that she'd never appreciated before, or the ones she thought she disliked.

Were those tears of frustration, anger, or desperation? None of the above, she thought resolutely, blinking them away as quickly as they came. Absolutely none of the above.

Third stage: bargaining.

Maybe, just maybe, if she thought of Maya in a clown costume it would all pass. No one could look good in a clown costume. The mental image, however, just made her involuntarily smile.

No, no! What about... a onesie? A unicorn onesie. Her brain added a beaming Pearls to the image and suddenly it was adorable: the older cousin finding time to play with the younger one, the two chasing each other around the Fey Manor all dressed up.

“Ugh,” Franziska hissed. How about... with the Interpol uniform on and a fake moustache. Yes! But Maya would probably look quite good in a uniform like that. The prosecutor shut down that line of thought before she discovered too many things about herself in a single night.

Fourth stage... well, the fourth stage was depression, but Franziska didn't think it was applicable to her situation. The 'stages of grief' weren't even that accurate for what she'd been feeling, seeing as it wasn't proper grief that she was experiencing in the first place.

So in her case the fourth stage was desperation.

Von Karma's hold on her, apparently, wasn't gone. She felt like a fool for even thinking so in the first place: so many years of horror couldn't be erased with a snap of the fingers. The man had had such a chokehold on her that even after his death it had taken her a scary amount of time to let herself go, even the slightest bit.

And von Karma obviously had a specific, rigid idea of what life had to be like, especially for his 'children'.

Miles was to be wed to some German aristocrat—some female German aristocrat—and have at least two children to carry on the von Karma legacy. Indeed, following his eighteenth birthday, he was supposed to change his last name to Manfred's immediately. Her brother had simply left instead, gone back to Germany. The perks of not being born into the family included having some sort of idea of what life without von Karma in it was like.

She hadn't had such a privilege. No, Franziska couldn't even see how horrible life with Manfred was until she'd been out of it.

She had to marry a rich German man and have at least two children. Not adopted, either; she'd been taught that only blood mattered, which was—in hindsight and even then—a bit ironic, seeing as Miles had been adopted. Manfred never spoke of such matters around him, however. Just around her.

It wasn't a secret that Manfred hated the mere idea of homosexuality. He'd be outraged and disgusted if he were to somehow find out, from the prison cell he was confined in until his execution, that Miles was in a relationship with someone who was very much a man (and soon to be engaged as well, if Franziska was reading the room correctly). Despite the fact that Wright was a hardworking, honest guy, her father wouldn't have cared whatsoever. No doubt Miles had known about his own sexuality far before leaving Germany—it was probably one of the main reasons he was so eager to leave, alongside the impending threat of the name change.

Franziska herself had taken a long time to accept her brother, something she was incredibly ashamed of. He'd told her before she'd gone back to Europe after the Engarde case... just there, standing in the airport. “I'm in love with Wright,” he'd said. “And he's in love with me.”

He'd then left her there, mouth hanging wide open for the flies. She'd taken a month to contact him after landing in Germany. The shame! The pain and hopelessness he must have felt, thinking she'd abandoned him!

But now? ...A whole other matter. She loved her brother unconditionally, that was the truth. She'd never dream of teasing him, or Wright for that matter, on such a topic. Even the friends she'd made in the server, many of whom were not heterosexual, deserved her full respect.

Franziska herself, though... Etiquette told her nothing about how she had to act towards herself: there were no rules about respect or acceptance or love to follow there. And all she could hear as she sat there, silent and still, in the busy restaurant was von Karma's voice repeating his insults against 'the homosexuals', a mantra flowing through her mind uninterrupted even as she ordered her food, even as she made small talk, even as she smiled at Pearls. But Pearls could tell there was something wrong. And everybody else at the table could as well.

So when Miles excused himself for a moment and motioned for her to come with him, she wasn't surprised. He led them to the small area that connected the main sitting room to the bathrooms, then turned toward her with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Franziska?”

She cocked an eyebrow, determined to not back down. “What? Are you feeling ill?”

“I should be asking you that.” He ran a hand over his face. “If you don't want to be here, that's fi—“

She shook her head vehemently, stopping him in his tracks. “Absolutely not, fool. Why would I have agreed to such a thing if I hadn't wanted to come?”

“You've looked pale and tense this entire evening. I'm a bit worried. We're all a bit worried.”

Franziska couldn't pretend she hadn't noticed the concerned glances everyone had been shooting her during the course of the last two hours. She debated lying, she did. But... in the spirit of trying to be more open, trying to reconcile with her brother...“I—I guess I just thought I'd gotten rid of Father's influence completely. And realized that wasn't the case.”

Miles nodded encouragingly.

“And I thought I knew myself. And—and I do, of course, but—“

“No one can know themselves all the way through, Franziska,” her brother interruped in a comforting tone of voice. “We all make discoveries during our lives. You remember our old tutor, Mr. Wagner?”

She nodded.

“He had that motto that he kept repeating: 'Only idiots stop learning'. And, unlike most of the other things he went on about, it was true. Here's a trivial example: yesterday I learned that I absolutely adore sushi. I'd never tried it before, Franziska! And now, after nearly three decades of life spent all over the world, I've found out something new about myself.”

Franziska shrugged. Miles must have noticed her expression, because he sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I'm aware that you're probably thinking, 'Look at this foolish fool! He's talking about foolish things that have nothing to do with what I'm feeling, and are definitely a hundred times more foolish and inconsequential'.”

She frowned at the high pitched impression of her voice. “That is not even remotely what I sound like.”

“'That is not even remotely what I sound like!'”

Her eyebrows shot up. Miles was, undoubtedly, making a fool of himself. But watching him make a fool of himself was actually having the intended effect of cheering her up. “...That is what I was thinking, yes.”

“You know I'll always be here if you want to talk, right?”

“My name isn't Wright,” she joked, hoping he wouldn't notice the wetness around her eyes. It seemed like all she did was cry these days. It felt like hell. It felt like healing.

“God, Franziska, he's rubbing off on you too?”

She sniffled a bit. So much for him not noticing. “Um. I still feel bad about it, you know. About when... when I left you in the airport. And then disappeared for weeks.”

He paused and placed his other hand on her free shoulder. “You mean after Engarde? Why are you bringing this up now...” She watched as her brother's eyes widened. “Franziska... you don't mean to say...?”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and her face crumpled. Look at her now, the Perfect Franziska, crying in a restaurant bathroom. But not alone. At least not alone.

Miles pulled her close and hugged her tightly. She hadn't been hugged like this in so long that it almost hurt her physically, her throat closing up as she was wracked with powerful sobs.

“Hey, it's all right,” he rumbled. She felt his heart beating under his suit as she buried her face into the expensive fabric. Her little sister instincts, dormant for so very long, were finally manifesting themselves—it felt natural, to come to her big brother for comfort.

“It's not.”

“Hmm?”

“It's not all right.”

His hands stilled where they'd been rubbing circles into her back. “Why not? You have no problem with Wright and I. ...Correct?”

“Of course. But...”

Miles pulled away for a second to look her in the eye. “...but, it's different for you. Am I right in saying that?”

Franziska stared at him with a bleary expression.

“I thought exactly the same thing you did, you know. When I first... figured it out. That I was gay.” He chuckled darkly. “The fact that I still have some difficulty saying that now should tell you how long that realization plagued me.”

“I was fine with other people being gay. I thought, as you had, that I'd already progressed far beyond von Karma's ancient ideals. Then, well... I met Wright.” A long sigh. “You have no idea—well actually you do, I suppose—how much I panicked.”

“I certainly didn't help, did I.” It wasn't a question, but a statement. To her surprise, however, Miles shook his head.

“Franziska, you were the last person I was worried about, because it didn't matter what your views were at the time. I knew, and still know, that you are a practical person. If I had provided enough 'evidence' that being gay wasn't some sort of horrible sin, or something that people choose to be, you'd have come around eventually. So many people continue denying even those things that sit right in front of their noses—and those are the people who I was worried about, the ones whose opinions never budge.”

Franziska hiccuped a bit, running a hand under her eyes to dry her face.

“So...” He smiled. “How about the prosecution gives you some evidence that what you're feeling isn't wrong?”

She snapped her head up. “Miles, what a foolish thought. The prosecution has no evidence.”

“Objection,” he said with a short laugh. “I think the defense will find that I do.”

“Don't you dare call me the defense!”

“What, you want to be Prosecution #2?”

Franziska huffed in annoyance, but motioned for him to continue.

“First of all, the defense is clearly a well-rounded, logical, and intelligent person with a good heart. I have several witness testimonies that corroborate this claim, as well as myself. Such a statement leads to the following conclusions: she's allowed to date whoever she wants, and whoever this person may be should consider themselves lucky.”

“Second of all, the defense is becoming her own person, getting rid of the qualities passed down by her father. This means that she is recognizing that what he taught her was narrow-minded and quite honestly false—naturally bringing her to the realization that what goes against his beliefs is automatically positive.”

Franziska laughed a bit at that, pulling her brother back into another hug.

“Third of all, the defense is one hell of a catch. She's worthy of every single person she wishes to date. This number obviously includes well-dressed, hamburger-loving, female mediums. A random example, naturally, but I think the defense will find it fitting.”

She pulled away, jabbing him in the stomach and earning herself a startled yelp. “You are such a tease, Miles Edgeworth!”

He matched her smile, relief etched into his features as he beheld her drying tears. “Last but not least—if the defense permits it—the prosecution is more than willing to give the due shovel talk when necessary.”

--

They eventually made their way back to the table. Miles had helped Franziska clean her face a little so as to not make it glaringly obvious she'd been crying: she'd had to sneak him into the women's bathroom while no one was in there, a procedure that caused her a lot more stress than she'd anticipated and proved to be a significant hindrance to reapplying her make-up.

Wright and the Feys had glanced at them quizzically, but had all visibly relaxed once Miles had shot them a thumbs-up when he thought Franziska wasn't looking.

The rest of the evening went much better, with Miles' hand clasping hers every time she seemed even a tiny bit off.

It was going to be a long road to self acceptance, undoubtedly... but a single brother had been all she needed to make it that much shorter.

...And maybe a single medium. Maybe.

Chapter Text

The next three weeks or so were some of the strangest of Franziska's life. It made sense, really: she wasn't used to being social outside of obligatory gatherings with colleagues, so going out with other people once or even twice a week felt like such a new experience that it was almost disorientating.

She wasn't aware of the laws that dictated conversations and interactions in general, but it didn't matter—it wasn't like the individuals she went out with cared anyway. The refreshing feeling of not having to mind every word she said allowed her to actually enjoy herself more often than not.

Which was why, when Franziska received a text from Maya at precisely 2 AM inviting her out to dinner the next day, she was not surprised. It was normal for the medium to be the one organizing the group outings, and the time of day (or night, in this case) was pretty standard. It seemed like Maya did not have the same need for sleep that common mortals had.

°°°°°°

M.F.

Maya Fey: fran you up to go to klara's this evening or

Me: Of course. As long as Wright promises not to trick me into karaoke again.

Maya Fey: oh

Maya Fey: actually this time i was thinking it could be just the two of us?

Maya Fey: if you dont mind

°°°°°°

What.

Franziska read the message about a dozen times. Then she looked up out of the window for a couple minutes. Then she reread the message another dozen times.

Of course, Maya simply wanted to mend the last ties of their friendship. During the past weeks they'd grown closer and had mostly gotten past their troubled history, but she probably wished to discuss the matter in privacy and depth.

That's all she wanted. There was no way Franziska was going to get her hopes up.

°°°°°°

Me: I do not mind. Thank you for the invitation.

Maya Fey: nice

Maya Fey: 8?

Me: Sounds like a plan.

°°°°°°

Klara's was the perfect restaurant for a group of mismatched lawyers and mediums, because it sat right in the middle of formal and informal. It wasn't the kind of place that would tarnish her or Miles' reputation (Wright had none so it wouldn't have been a problem either way), nor the one that would make Maya and Pearl uncomfortable. A couple weeks prior it had hosted a karaoke event that Franziska had been unwillingly dragged into, but today's visit wouldn't entail anything of the sort.

The prosecutor had decided, after a painstakingly long hour of indecision, to wear a light blue dress suit—the perfect combination of not trying too hard but also looking quite attractive. She'd had it tailored to match her hair color perfectly, alongside many other items of clothing.

Everything was perfect.

Except one thing.

“Do you have a reservation, ma'am?”

“Yes, for two.”

“Name?”

“Von Karma.”

The waitress rifled through her papers, then frowned politely. “You booked for 8 PM?”

Franziska nods stiffly.

“It's... 7.05 PM, right now.”

She was incredibly, embarrassingly early.

Shifting on her feet, she crossed her arms and sighed. “Is the table not available yet?”

“No... I mean, we can get it ready immediately, if you don't mind waiting a couple minutes.” A pause. “Ma'am, do you intend to be seated right now?”

“I'm already here, might as well.”

“Right.” The waitress cleared her throat, clearly trying to dissipate some of the awkwardness. “Um, date night, I'm guessing!”

“No.”

“Ah.”

The table was made ready quickly and managed to immediately put the both of them out of their misery.

Luckily, it seemed like Maya had had Franziska's same idea, because she turned up just twenty minutes after her. She was also wearing something simple yet elegant: a pale violet dress that reached just past her knees. She looked rather surprised to see that the prosecutor was already seated.

“Hey Franziska! Did I get the hour wrong? Oh, I must have forgotten to set the time back after last Sunday...”

Franziska chuckled. “No, we're both just really early.”

“Haha, right! I just left Pearls with Nick a couple minutes ago; she wanted to celebrate his birthday, even if a bit late. Since it was nearby, I decided to see if the table was ready yet. You know, so that I wouldn't have to go home and then leave again right after.”

The prosecutor nodded. “I was... also in the area. Some documents needed signing at the office.”

“Work really doesn't stop for you, huh?”

“I'm afraid not.”

After a waiter came to take their orders, the two women talked without interruption. There were no bad jokes from Wright, deep sighs from Miles, nor complaints from Pearl to hinder their conversations: so many different topics were breached that, by the end of dinner, they could barely remember where they'd started from.

Franziska discovered that, despite her happy-go-lucky appearance, Maya could act very serious when it came to important matters. She was intelligent, open-minded, and determined to get her point across in the clearest and most direct way possible. Chatting with her was engaging, and the prosecutor caught herself leaning a bit over the table towards her in multiple occasions. It wasn't embarrassing, though, because the medium was doing the exact same.

Some time had passed since the dinner during which she'd had that conversation with Miles. It was still hard to even think about her attraction towards Maya—and the nagging disgust towards herself wasn't going to go away anytime soon—but Franziska was getting better. Now, as she admired the powerful yet benevolent woman sitting in front of her, she allowed herself to think about how wonderful a future with her would be. It was a fantasy that lasted a mere moment, unfortunately, but it brought a smile to her face nonetheless.

For some reason, they went about conversation in a way that was opposite the usual order (at least as far as Franziska's limited experience could suggest). They started talking by broaching deeper topics, such as the inherent unfairness of the court system in California and the morality of self-defense, to then move on to meaningless gossip towards the end of their stay.

“No but courtroom trysts are one of my favorite things in the world,” Maya confessed after her second glass of champagne. “They always seem to happen between opposing counsels, too.”

“You're thinking of Wright and my brother, correct?”

She snorted. “Yes, but get this: they aren't even the only pair I know who met that way.”

Franziska's eyes widened ever so slightly. “You don't say?”

“Well,” the medium giggled, “you know Apollo Justice, by any chance?”

“The bright orange attorney? ...There is simply no way.”

“And yet! He's got this MASSIVE crush on Klavier Gavin.”

The prosecutor almost spit her drink everywhere. “Gavin? And to think I believed Justice to have a bit of sense in him.”

“HA! I'll have to tell him you said that, you know.” She took another sip, and Franziska wondered whether she should advise the medium to go easy on the alcohol. “Is Gavin really that bad? I have a friend who regularly works with him who absolutely cannot stand the guy, but he doesn't seem that annoying to me.”

“You must be referring to Frau Skye. The two do not get along, that's for sure, but I would not be as drastic as her in my description. He is good at his job; he simply puts a little... flair into it.”

“A good thing to have in a boring old courtroom! It spices things up.”

“You believe so? Well then, I don't see why everyone complains about my whip so much.”

“Speaking of flair, you've met Godot, right?”

A nod. “Before he went to jail, yes. A good prosecutor, if a bit misogynistic.”

Maya chuckled. “Nick told me, yes. I cannot believe you didn't whip him right then and there.”

“I did not think it proper. What if I had damaged his seeing mask? What a shame it would have been.”

“That trial would definitely have been less interesting!”

In typical European fashion, they ended up talking for more than two hours as the waiters eyed them with increasing annoyance. Eventually, around 9.30, they left the restaurant. The bill was split in two by mutual decision.

Pausing on the landing in front of the establishment, Franziska smiled warmly at the medium. “I'm glad it was just us two this time.”

Maya beamed, clasping her hands in front of her chest as she was prone to do in happy situations. “Same here.”

“You must promise not to tell Wright, Miles, or Pearl... but I'm quite sure that our conversation was much more productive and interesting than it would have been had they joined us.”

Her companion burst out laughing, and Franziska mentally patted herself on the back. “I won't snitch, no worries.”

The two women lived on opposite sides of the city, which meant that they immediately headed their own seperate ways... but not before sharing a long hug that Franziska would begrudgingly fantasize about for the next three or four business weeks.

It was only when she got back home that the prosecutor realized that Maya had not, in fact, invited her to talk about the trial where they'd first met. She had asked her to eat dinner merely for her company, to talk about the most random of subjects, to share time without any other purpose.

Franziska could not help but feel deeply honored by this sentiment. A warmth she'd never felt in her life accompanied her to sleep.

–

9.48 p.m.

#general

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): And that's how i broke my leg twice in the same week

Sunman: FGUYS

Sunman: GUYS

flo: uh oh

Tamatama: sunman did you finally manage to get paid over the minimum wage

flo: what

flo: how did i miss this

Sunman: NO WAY BETTER!!!

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): You should get on that though

Tamatama: wait

Tamatama: are you about to say what im thinking youre about to say

Sunman: PROBABLY

Tamatama: theres no way

Sunman: I CONEFESSD

flo: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tamatama: DONT LEAVE US HANGING HOWD IT GO???

Sunman: lets just say theres one less single person roaming the streets of cali

Tamatama: YOOOOO!!!!!!!

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): No fucking way

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Traitor!!

flo: how'd you do it?

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Flo is that an actual apostrophe or am i having a stroke

flo: you're having a stroke

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Am i in a different universe

flo: you're in a differ'ent uni'verse

flo: but seriously sun good for you

Tamatama: I cannot believe

Tamatama: as flo asked, howd you do it?

Sunman: it was a pretty standard confession to be honest

Sunman: i 'lost' to him

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Were you playing a game

Sunman: no, its in our line of work... long story, lmao

flo: sun is a professional soccer player confirmed

Sunman: basically i just said something along the lines of 'you gotta treat me to dinner to apologize'

Tamatama: apologize for winning? boy what

Sunman: listen

Sunman: I wasn't really thinking bc i was pretty tired, so it kind of came out

flo: pun intended?

Sunman: always

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): and what did he reply

flo: what do you think idiot!!

Sunman: he seemed surprised, but he immediately said yes

Sunman: and then after the dinner he asked me if i wanted to try this out

Sunman: dating, i mean

Tamatama: AAAH now it makes sense

Tamatama: YOU didnt confess, he did!

Jim Smith (not my real name ong): Yeah I was getting worried you might be developing better social skills than me

Sunman: hey!

Sunman: and the first step was mine, tama

Tamatama: the easiest step, but sure

Sunman: …

Tamatama: AND you were tired

Tamatama: no courage gathering involved

Sunman: ok i GUESS he was the one who confessed -_-

Sunman: doesnt take away that im pretty damn proud

Tamatama: and we're proud of you <3 right @everyone

jewel isnt dead: !!!!!!!!! congratulations sun!!!

child of the wasp (wasp): did you just wake me up at 2am bc sun confessed

child of the wasp (wasp): i mean its worth it but wow

flo: why do you keep your phone so close to you if you know its going to wake you up

child of the wasp (wasp): i like the thrill of not knowing how long im gonna sleep for

Sunman: You need therapy.

Chapter Text

Tamatama: my confidant

Tamatama: my brother in christ

Tamatama: my numero uno

Sunman: youre not even christian

Tamatama: youre not even mean, but i guess todays an exception >:(

Sunman: weak

Sunman: what is it

Tamatama: you know franziska

Sunman: too well.

Sunman: if ur about to ask me for advice let me remind you that im the worst person for that

Tamatama: no no i know

Tamatama: im here to ask for an opinion

Tamatama: we went to dinner yesterday

Sunman: oh jeebies

Tamatama: w

Tamatama: did you get possessed by an 80 year old? or did you hand your phone to nick?

Tamatama: if so ive got the perfect gift idea for miles' birthday

Sunman: tell him in person

Tamatama: ok queen elizabeth

Sunman: so you went on a date

Tamatama: no

Sunman: no?

Tamatama: well

Tamatama: thats just it, ive got no clue

Sunman: ive been on one (1) date in my adult life, and it was like yesterday

Sunman: and it was with klavier

Sunman: not the most normal circumstances

Tamatama: despite all the good points youre making, im afraid youre the only poor soul i can torment with my woes

Sunman: id be more than glad to help, maya, but my best advice is genuinely to ask someone else

Sunman: you can try me, but im warning you

Tamatama: well then

You started a call that lasted 32 minute(s).

Sunman: loved being able to talk there

Tamatama: that was solely for retelling everything without having to type an essay

Tamatama: so

Sunman: may i speak now, your royal highness?

Tamatama: you may

Sunman: various things point to her being interested in you

Tamatama: youll excuse me if im skeptical

Sunman: you asked for my opinion, now youre getting one

Sunman: also im a laywer

Tamatama: and im a medium whats it to you

Sunman: im saying im good at reading people

Sunman: the fact that she came in early is a factor

Tamatama: well i did too

Sunman: yeah and youre interested

Tamatama: huh.

Tamatama: ok good point

Sunman: also she dressed up

Sunman: conversation was light and easy but you talked about important things

Tamatama: apart from the gossipping, yeah

Sunman: gossipping is good

Sunman: it means she's okay with sharing secrets with you

Tamatama: boy its gossip not the door codes to the pentagon

Sunman: yeah that was a bit farfetched

Sunman: only realized that after id typed it out haha

Tamatama: lol

Tamatama: anyway

Tamatama: what else?

Sunman: what else?

Sunman: thats all i got wym

Sunman: you know ive gotta get to work at this hour

Tamatama: but last week you told me to distract you as much as possible from the case you were working on

Sunman: yeha but todays the last day so im actually gonna try to research

Tamatama: call me if you get a headache

Sunman: sure

Tamatama: and thanks apollo

Tamatama: im going to ask for a second opinion tho

Tamatama: and a third

Sunman: wow

Tamatama: ive gotta be sureeeeeee

Sunman: all right then go on

Sunman: but remember: my advice is always the best and the most right and the least biased and the most valid

Sunman: dont let other peoples LIES get in the way of the cold hard truth ;)

Tamatama: just know that im rolling my eyes really hard rn

–

Tamatama: hey zika

Tamatama: hope im not bothering you

Zika: No, you are fine. I just finished eating my lunch.

Tamatama: oh nice. whatdya eat?

Tamatama: … you still there?

Zika: Sorry, I was trying to decifer that atrocious contraction you used in your message. I ate chicken milanese with a side of salad.

Tamatama: oh nice

Zika: It was. Do you have a question for me?

Tamatama: why yes, i do

Tamatama: from what you said some days ago, youre not really … like, into romance?

Zika: You misunderstand: I simply dislike talking about my own love life. Therefore, if your message is about this topic, I strongly suggest you drop it now.

Tamatama: no its about MY love life lmaooo

Tamatama: that means 'laughing my ass off', by the way

Tamatama: before you go searching that up

Zika: Thank you for the explanation.

Zika: You may proceed with your question.

Tamatama: so i kinda wanted to ask your advice

Zika: Not a problem. I will, however, let you know that I've got very limited experience in the field.

Tamatama: oh me too lol, just need some outside opinions

Zika: Ok.

Tamatama: god thats ominous

Zika: ?

Tamatama: ok so zika

Tamatama: there are some unspoken rules of texting, and one of them is that writing Ok. with perfect punctuation means youre mad

Zika: I always utilize perfect punctuation.

Tamatama: yeah fair

Tamatama: so... where to start

Tamatama: yesterday i had dinner with a colleague of sorts

Tamatama: the relationship between us has always been quite strained bc of something that happened some time ago

Tamatama: on my part, ive forgiven and forgotten, but im fairly sure shes still feeling kinda guilty?

Zika: If she showed up, she must have put it past her some as well.

Tamatama: yeah but im the one who invited her

Zika: So?

Tamatama: her acceptance of my invite might have been mere courtesy

Zika: I see your point. It comes down to the nature and personality of this colleague, then. I don't know her, so it could be either option.

Tamatama: well shes the kind of person who wouldnt have any problems declining if she didnt want to be there i suppose...

Zika: Well then, that's answered, is it not?

Tamatama: it USED to be like that though!! idk she's been changing a lot in the past few months, for the better

Zika: A good sign, then. No need to overthink too much.

Tamatama: yes but now that shes being nicer the chances of it being courtesy are higher

Zika: You're still overthinking...

Tamatama: lmaoo yeah

Zika: I'm guessing you're not hoping to remain a colleague?

Tamatama: nope........ its so weird tho

Tamatama: shes done things to damage me

Tamatama: shes changed a lot... but

Zika: Ah. That comes down to you, then. However, the fact that you went out of your way to invite her, and the overthinking you're doing as we speak, point rather to you wanting something more. At least friendship.

Tamatama: fairly sure were already friends, somehow

Tamatama: weve been hanging out more often these past weeks, and its been amazing

Zika: Well then, you must have subconsciously or even consciously warmed up to her if you're willing to be friends with her. The hardest step of forgiveness is one you've taken already.

Tamatama: are you a therapist?

Zika: Ha. No. I do know the human psyche quite well, though.

Tamatama: I can see that

Tamatama: so yeah

Tamatama: suppose my eventual goal would be to enter a relationship

Tamatama: before tonight, i thought i had no chance

Zika: How come?

Tamatama: thought she wasnt ever going to be interested in a person like me

Zika: Why wouldn't she? From what I know about you—albeit, little—you are a funny and intelligent woman.

Tamatama: AWW thanks zika!!

Zika: I only state the truth. What made you change your mind about her potential feelings?

Tamatama: well...

Tamatama: id intended to arrive early, and i did

Tamatama: but... she did too!!!!! she got there even before i did

Tamatama: it was so surprising. the waitress told me shed wanted to be seated immediately

Tamatama: so like, thats positive

Zika: Yes I'd say so

Tamatama: ofc arriving early isnt a confession of love

Tamatama: but,,,

Tamatama: she was more open than ive ever seen her be before

Tamatama: usually a private person

Tamatama: and she got there all dressed up!

Zika: Was it a formal restaurant?

Tamatama: kind of in the middle

Tamatama: when i came in and saw her seated i had the biggest gay panic HAHA

Tamatama: she was wearing an amazing outfit

Tamatama: AND GET THIS

Tamatama: it matched her hair

Zika: Oh

Tamatama: yeah, shes got died hair

Tamatama: dyed

Zika: Not an obnoxious color I hope?

Tamatama: no, like light blue

Zika: And you like it like so?

Tamatama: HAHA idk if youre the type of person who scoffs at dyed hair, but im not AT ALL

Tamatama: it suits her so much

Tamatama: anyway, after id properly recovered from my momentary case of the quick heartbeats we chatted for so long!

Tamatama: as a person who's grown up mostly in the us it was weird to sit around even after wed finished eating, but shes european so

Tamatama: they have different customs over there when it comes to food

Zika: Was the conversation productive? Did you talk about interesting things?

Tamatama: oh yeah, about all sorts of topics

Tamatama: we went from discussing our coworkers' love lives to talking about the legalization of marijuana of all things

Tamatama: which, btw, we both agreed was a useful step

Zika: Interesting jump

Tamatama: yeah you do not want to know the connections

Zika: Guessing one of said coworkers indulges?

Tamatama: nicee youre right

Zika: Ha.

Tamatama: wow

Tamatama: ive met one detective in my life and he was kind of incompetent

Tamatama: made up for it tho by being a generally nice guy

Zika: I know someone like that too.

Tamatama: ive got no doubts that youre more precise lmao

Zika: I try my best.

Zika: Anyway, back to your questions.

Zika: I believe this woman is equally as smitten with you as you are with her.

Tamatama: woah

Tamatama: really???

Tamatama: you sure?

Zika: As sure as I can be.

Zika: 1. She's not doing it out of courtesy. 2. She's genuinely interested in hearing what you have to say. 3. She continued the conversation past the end of the meal; seeing as you're not accustomed to doing so, you probably were not the one who took initiative here. 4. She came dressed well, elegant to the right point. 5. She came early.

Zika: All points to the same place.

Tamatama: damn

Tamatama: but that all sounds like friendship stuff as well

Zika: Who's the 'detective' here?

Tamatama: you got me

Tamatama: feel a lot more confident now, thanks zika

Tamatama: and ik you dont want to talk about it but good luck on your love life

Tamatama: if you want one ofc

Zika: Thank you, Tama.

Zika: May I ask you a question?

Tamatama: shoot

Zika: Did you also come in elegant attire, or did you go for a more casual look?

Tamatama: I wore a nice dress in my favorite color

Tamatama: dont think i was underdressed?

Tamatama: this is the link so you can get a more precise idea https://www.lulus.com/images/product/xlarge/3832690_783712.jpg?w=195&hdpi=1

Tamatama: also its just like a generally nice and comfortable dress so idk if you want to get it or smth, its my 'date but not a date' outfit recommendation HAHA

Zika: It looks good

Zika: Thank yo

Zika: u

Zika: And good luck

Tamatama: im just gonna go scream into my pillow for a second

Tamatama: thanks again so much

Zika: No problem. You've helped me out a lot, too.

Tamatama: oh??

Tamatama: with some dilemma of your own?

Zika: Yes.

Zika: I have a feeling we'll both be a lot happier soon.

Tamatama: thats nice to hear :)

–

Of course, Franziska wasn't stupid. Deduction was actually one of the most important skills in her line of work; if she hadn't been able to figure out that 'Tamatama' was actually Maya Fey even before opening the link to the exact same dress she'd been wearing to the Dinner, she'd probably have had to fire herself from her position.

What Franziska was was incredibly agitated. As the conversation had went on, the prosecutor's hands had begun sweating uncontrollably and she'd started biting her nails. Franziska hadn't bit her nails since she'd been ten and she wasn't keen on taking the habit up again.

Unless, of course, the object of her attraction suddenly came to her for dating advice. Concerning herself. While also announcing without a single reservation that she wanted to be more than friends.

When Franziska had opened the link and seen the perfect, solid confirmation of every suspicion that had been building up during the past half hour of chatting, she had actually stood up and squealed. It wasn't necessarily a sound of happiness—more of shock and disbelief than anything—but it had still been so embarrassing!

What in the world was Franziska supposed to do now? Was she supposed to go on and pretend she hadn't read all about how well her dyed hair suited her, or how Maya had apparently had so much fun on the 'date not date' (as the medium herself had called it!!)? Or was she to call Maya immediately and tell her that she was Zika, that Zika was her, and that both her and Zika really wanted to go on another date?

Franziska immediately ruled out telling her via chat or phone call. It wouldn't be fair, and Maya herself wouldn't have confessed like that if she'd known she'd been, well, confessing. And the prosecutor felt quite guilty about not dropping some hints herself early on that she was Franziska von Karma. Yes, she'd been hyperventilating the entire time. Yes, her fingers had been typing things mostly on autopilot. That did not excuse the complete lack of transparency that she'd demonstrated.

Yet another thing to apologize to Maya about, Franziska mused. The list was shortening and then lengthening over and over again without any premonition.

But... but. Deep, deep in her heart, Franziska was happy that Maya had inadvertently told her everything so soon. She was inept at most social interactions, and reading into the Dinner had proved impossible from the get-go. As soon as she'd come home there had been a brief hour where Franziska had tried to make sense of what the evening meant—to both her and Maya—but it had been fruitless.

Now, she had a perfect analysis of the thing ready and waiting in her mind. All that remained to do was figure out the best way to approach Maya about it, and that had been easy to take care of as well now that Franziska knew precisely where the other woman stood. The bones of the plan were simple:

1. “Maya, I enjoy the Steel Samurai show.” This step involved easing Maya into the idea that Franziska had a Discord account. This would either result in the medium understanding what she was getting at immediately, or asking her what her handle and tag were.

2. “Maya, my username on Discord is 'Zika'.” The big reveal.

3. “Maya, I'm really sorry about not telling you that it was me you were talking to. I was going into cariac arrest. I'm also sorry, again, for almost getting you executed that one time.” Self-explanatory.

4. “Maya, I reciprocate your feelings completely and wish to be more than friends.” Hopefully, Franziska would then be invited upon another date.

Franziska refused to plan any more ahead than that. It wouldn't be ideal to harbor a lot of spectacular expectations only for them to be crushed under the heel of reality.

Now she had to set up a meeting point. Franziska really, really wanted to tell Maya everything as soon as possible (despite the nerves steadily building in her stomach), but she also maybe wanted some time to ask others for advice. She hadn't been lying when she'd said she had little to no experience with dating and relationships.

With a sigh that said how little she was looking forward to the endless teasing this would lead to, Franziska picked up her mobile phone and called her least favorite brother.

Chapter Text

“Just... go to the office?” Miles replied, voice rather scratchy. Seeing as it was about three in the morning, Franziska deduced that this was due to sleepiness. She should probably change her surname to Holmes one of these days if she was going to keep making these impossible connections.

“That's not romantic at all, Miles.”

“The way you found out wasn't romantic either, Franziska.”

He made a good point. “Shouldn't at least one reveal be romantic?”

“If you really think that's best, sure. But don't you think Maya would prefer a heat-of-the-moment confession, considering her personality?”

“It's a little late for that. I've already made a list of the steps I wish to take.”

A long suffering sigh echoed over the receiver, and Franziska rolled her eyes. How dramatic could he be? “She doesn't need to know that, though. If you just show up at the office—even now, seeing as I'm fairly sure she sleeps there—she'll think 'wow, Franny just couldn't wait a moment before telling me!'.”

“Or, she'll wonder why I've woken her up.”

“That would be rude.”

“Exactly!”

Silence.

“Oh shut up,” Franziska muttered.

“Did I say something?”

“...”

“Anyway, I can bet you any amount of money that she's not sleeping right now. Since when does Maya Fey go to bed any earlier than five A.M.?”

“Ah, right. She's always active on Discord around this time of the night.”

“From your tone, I can tell I'm starting to convince you.”

“No, actually, I'm completely unconvinced,” she quickly shot back. He'd gotten his Smug Lawyer Voice out, and there was no way she was going to admit he was right. It was something New Miles had in common with Old Miles, this profound desire to be correct when others were wrong. While it had been annoying back then, it was only endearing now.

Hanging up before he could get another word in, Franziska collapsed back onto her bed. Was it really going to be okay... just, well, showing up on Maya's doorstep? It was hardly polite, especially without an invite. They were friends now but that did not mean she could head on over whenever she so desired.

Franziska of the past would never have stooped to such a level of desperation. This thought, oddly, pushed her to action.

The little dot next to Maya's Discord profile was green, and it looked like she was playing one of the original, absolutely awful Steel Samurai games. This reassured Franziska: not only was she still awake, but she was doing something that could lead seamlessly into the conversation she wanted to have. But how much longer was the medium going to entertain herself with the game? It was only a matter of time before she went to bed.

Franziska picked up the phone again.

“You're sure that it will work. Even if I go there now.”

“Let me sleep!”

Click.

Well then, it was decided. Night clothes still on, the prosecutor threw on a jacket and her shortest pair of heels. Most of the time she had absolutely no need for anything but formal footwear, but it was in moments like these where she secretly wished she possessed a pair of sneakers.

“Doesn't matter,” she mumbled. “I look fine.”

Apart from the shoe problem, nothing else went wrong during the rather short trip from her apartment to the Wright and Co. Law Offices. If Franziska pressed her foot down a little harder on the gas pedal, well, no one was around to see it at this hour—so really there's no proof she did, is there?

She sprinted up the stairs as carefully as possible. For a moment she stood, slightly winded, in front of Wright's office door. Things had progressed a little quickly for her tastes: the roads had seemed shorter, the car faster, the passage of time slower. It became immediately obvious to her that she was actually in no way prepared for the conversation she was about to have.

Yes, it was reassuring to know that Maya returned her feelings. Franziska had never confessed her love to anyone—there had never been any desire to do so, after all—but she'd been unlucky enough to have one or two people confess to her. She knew that it was a rather nerve-wracking experience, because many people harbored a rather intense fear of rejection: even though she was fairly sure this wasn't true in her case, that did not mean that she wasn't grateful for the extra confidence boost.

So why was she hestitating?

Franziska had one hand poised to knock on the door when it swung open by itself. Since there was no one on the other side, she chalked it up to a particularly strong gust of wind (unless, of course, all of Wright's mad rambles about Mia Fey's ghost living in his office were actually true).

The first thing that greeted the prosecutor was the sight of piles and piles of moving boxes stacked in every corner of the room. Stepping inside, Franziska deposited her jacket on the designated Coat Chair that was always sitting in the lobby.

She cleared her throat. “Why is the door unlocked?”

“HUH?” came the reply from deeper into the mess. “WHO'S THERE?”

“Franziska.”

“HUH?”

“FRANZISKA!”

“FRANZISKA?”

“YES!”

Something fell somewhere. A curse rang out. Then, finally, the sound of bare feet against carpeting.

Suddenly Maya was standing there, right in front of Franziska. Her palms began to sweat.

“Oh hey, Fran! What are you doing up at this hour?”

“What are you doing up at this hour?”

“I'm always up at this hour! It's just unusual for you.”

The prosecutor shifted on her feet. “I had something to tell you.”

“...At four in the morning?”

“I figured you'd still be awake. I was right, wasn't I?”

Maya laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I know my sleeping habits are a little wonky, Nick complains about it all the time. I don't need you added into the mix!” Then, she motioned for Franziska to come with her. “I have some snacks in the break room, come on. Pay attention to the boxes. They're kinda prone to falling over sometimes.”

As she gingerly followed her host, the prosecutor gestured to the stacks. “Why are there boxes everywhere? Is Wright looking to move out?”

“No no! He's just helping Larry clear out one of his many storage units from high school.”

“Larry? As in Butz?”

“The one and only, yes.”

“...Why does he have storage units from high school?”

“I've been asking myself that for a while now.”

Chuckling, Franziska stepped into the break room, which was actually where Wright had his desk and computer. This said a lot about him, and had probably been the grounds for a lot of Miles' teasing. A TV sat in front one of the walls, cables shooting everywhere and an old Wii U sitting below it on a teetering shelf.

The TV was on, the volume low so as not to disturb the neighbors. A Steel Samurai rerun was playing in the semi-darkness.

Perfect.

“Sorry for that,” Maya said. “I'll turn it off.”

No, that won't do! “Is that... the sixth season? The Mecha arc?”

The medium's mouth hung open, her eyes wide. “You watch the Steel Samurai?”

“Er... yes. Miles got me into it when we were children.”

“Ohohoho! So you're an expert? How long have you been watching? What's your favorite character? Favorite season? Have you ever been to a meet-and-greet?”

“I would not say I'm an expert, per se,” Franziska stammered. The interrogation wasn't surprising, but she hadn't been prepared for a questionnaire. “I've been watching since I was a child. My favorite character... I am not sure. The best season has to be the fifth. No, I have not, my reputation would suffer for it.”

“Aww, bummer! Nick always accompanies me and he doesn't have any trouble finding cases!”

“Well, Wright is a little... different. His clientele are more willing to overlook such things.”

“You're saying your brother would fire you if he caught you at a con?”

“A con?”

Maya giggled. “A convention.”

“No, he would probably promote me.”

“Then what's the big deal?”

This wasn't really what she'd come here to discuss. “I am not well suited to such events. My socialization skills are abysmal, as I have come to realize, and I am not as knowledgeable as most other fans.”

“Ooh,” the medium nodded sagely, “you're afraid of the gatekeepers.”

“I am not afraid of everyone,” Franziska scoffed, deciding to ignore the unknown term.

“But engaging with people who enjoy your same activities and media can be so relaxing!”

“I prefer to do so anonymously.”

“Really? In what way?”

The moment had arrived. The deciding phrase. The climax of the action. Die Pointe. “...Through Discord.”

There were no fireworks. No shocked realization. Maya simply gasped. “WOOAH! You keep surprising me, Fran! I can't believe you have a Discord account! You! I'd never ever have guessed!”

“Why not?” Franziska bristled.

“I mean, it's amazing. But I didn't think you were the type to use social media.”

“I made an exception.”

The medium shook her head. Apparently, this revelation had well and truly come as a surprise. Just you wait, the prosecutor thought wryly.

“So you have Discord... and you didn't tell me?”

She was pouting now, arms hanging loose, looking more like a five year old than the (barely) adult she was.

“I... suppose. Although I know your tag.”

“Whaa! Did Nick tell you? The traitor! I thought he promised not to tell anyone of my double life!”

Franziska raised an eyebrow. “Maintaining a server can hardly be considered another life.”

“You have no idea how time-consuming it can get, actually.” The medium paused, suddenly pensive. “But now that I know, you've gotta join!”

“No need.”

Her face fell. “How come?”

“It's... actually what I came here to tell you. I'm already in your server.”

Time slowed down. This was it. The real moment of truth.

...Maybe.

In order to help out a bumbling idiot such as Wright during a high-stress situation such as a wonky, out-of-this-world murder trial, you have to be an intelligent person. It takes a lot of effort to be able to pay attention to the trial, make your own assumptions, and keep an eye on his mood all at the same time.

So Franziska wasn't at all surprised that Maya Fey was a smart individual under all that medium garb and strange, mystical mumblings. She might be a little bit of an idiot, but she was not stupid by any means.

Maya Fey immediately came to a (correct) conclusion. The prosecutor could tell; it was painted on her face. However, in the spirit (ha, get it?) of not assuming things, she did not ask right away.

Ugh.

“O-oh! And... how have you found it?”

She tried her absolute best not to smile. “It's quite entertaining. You have put together an amazing group of people. Although I definitely don't fit in as well as they do.”

“What? How come?”

“I fear I come off as an old lady. The way I text is absolutely outdated.”

At this point, Maya was visibly sweating. On one hand, Franziska wished to put her out of her misery: on the other, this was exactly what she had gone through while 'Tamatama' was describing their date.

“D-Don't say that, it's just 'cause you're not used to it! I'm sure with enough practice, it'll come more naturally.”

“I hope so. Maybe I can give better advice next time.”

“A...advice?”

“Yes. Wouldn't you believe it? Someone from the server came and asked me for relationship advice. Me!”

There was no room for mistakes. Maya realized this. “Oh my God. I'm so, so sorry Franziska! I... I had no idea that you were Zika, I would never have... have said those things!” She buried her head in her hands. “Oh, this is so embarrassing! Just forget that entire conversation.”

“You don't have to worry about it, reall—“

“No, I do. That was so inappropriate! I can't believe you had to listen to me ramble! And... and I said those things too... I was so forward...”

“It's fine—“

“I shouldn't have turned to a stranger on the Internet for advice without thinking!”

Franziska could tell that she was getting nowhere. Seriously, as smart as Maya might be, she could be very dense sometimes!

The prosecutor had never in her life willingly initiated non-violent physical contact with anyone who wasn't her brother. She had never in her life done it for romantic purposes. So when she kissed Maya, it was like blundering around in the dark for a light switch—she had no idea where to go or what to do.

Maya seemed about as experienced as she was, because the very first reaction she had was a rather undignified squeak. It didn't take her long to adjust, however, and she seemed to melt into her, reaching up to cup the prosecutor's face.

They continued like this for about a half hour, never going past closed mouth kisses. Franziska held Maya close and there was nothing else in the world but them, nothing to hear or see despite the TV still spouting Steel Samurai episodes a couple feet away. It felt so nice. She felt so safe.

“Oh,” Maya breathed when they separated.

“I quite like you, Maya.”

“I hadn't realized,” she giggled, recovering quickly. “But seriously, wow. I... I'm going to be thinking about this embarrassment before going to bed for the rest of my life!”

“Do you regret it?”

“Actually, no. I mean, I would have liked to confess in a more romantic way, but knowing me it would have taken at least another eighteen million months.”

“Knowing me, as well. I do not believe I would have had the courage to consider that a date had you not messaged me.”

“Aww, but I thought I had been so obvious!”

“I did too, and look where that got us.”

The medium let out a squawk. “Obvious?? You?? But you were so good at hiding it!”

“Arriving an hour early is 'good at hiding it'?”

“...”

“That's what I thought.” A pause. “Wait, if you're Tamatama... then...”

Maya raised an eyebrow. “Then what?”

“Is Sunman Apollo Justice?”

“Oh fuck,” she breathed. “He's going to be so mad!”

–

Justice was, indeed, not very happy that the most feared prosecutor in the state knew how pathetic his pining had been. Franziska knew this because she spent the night at the office, curled up on Wright's century-old couch while Maya lulled her to sleep with ramblings about the Steel Samura's latest season, and was therefore able to greet him when he clocked in the next morning.

He was, however, glad to know another member of the Los Angeles justice system liked the show and was a part of the server, claiming that it made him 'more trustworthy' of her 'lawyerly conduct', or something like that. The prosecutor did not understand what enjoying a children's TV series had to do with law, but she had long since decided that no question about Wright or any of his employees' mental sanity had an easy answer.

“Do not tell Gavin that I am aware,” she warned the junior attorney. “I wish to make the realization dawn on him in the worst possible moment.”

“I don't think I can legally do that, as his boyfriend.”

A glare. “I'll tell my brother.”

“OkayIwon'ttellhim.”

“Good.”

The next morning was not awkward at all, as Franziska had feared while falling asleep. Maya suggested they go out to eat some breakfast, so the two enjoyed warm croissants and a hot cup of coffee while discussing the latest developments in the Prosecutor's Office and Kurain Village respectively. Conversation came just as easily, but now hand holding and soft glances were added into the mix. An upgrade. A substantial upgrade. Franziska had never been happier.

Her father popped into her head a couple of times. She did not know when he'd stop featuring in her thoughts. Maybe never. It did not matter, though—she had friends and family and Maya, all ready to help her out when she needed it the most. Even Wright was sometimes tolerable. Sometimes.

Speaking of Wright, he had somehow obtained her personal cell number. This did not bother her as much as it would have a couple of years ago... but he was still quite annoying, so she'd muted his chat.

That's why Franziska saw the messages a little later than she probably should've.

°°°°°°

P.W.

Phoenix Wright: Wow franziska!!

Phoenix Wright has sent a link

Phoenix Wright: Didn't know you had game

Phoenix Wright: Hehe

Me: What is this, Wright?

Phoenix Wright: Its a link can't you read

Me: A link?

Phoenix Wright: :O

Phoenix Wright: Click on it

Me: ?

Me: Oh.

Phoenix Wright: “Star Prosecutor Spotted With Significant Other?”

Phoenix Wright: The photo is ADORABLE o.o

Phoenix Wright: Look at the wittle slime you have!!

Phoenix Wright: *smile

Me: This was not how we planned to announce it.

Phoenix Wright: lmao I sure hope so

Phoenix Wright: Franziska has feelins confirmed??

Phoenix Wright: haha

Phoenix Wright: If you hurt her, however, there will be consequences.

Me: That reminds me. I haven't given YOU the talk yet.

Phoenix Wright: The shovel talk??? what?? me and miles have been dating for forever

Me: It's never too late.

Phoenix Wright: Noo franziska I take it baack

Me: ...You don't need to.

Me: I will obviously treat her well.

Me: I don't deserve her.

Phoenix Wright: Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Me: I think I still have my whip somewhere...

Phoenix Wright: ANYTHING BUT THE WHOEP

°°°°°°

M.

Miles: Phoenix sent me the article.

Miles: Did you get together?

Me: Yes.

Miles: I'm happy for you, Franziska.

Me: Thank you :)

Miles: Being in a serious relationship for the first time is no joke. If you ever need any more advice, your big brother can help out.

Me: :))

Me: I have another piece of information to share with you.

Me: I have no doubt you'll find it quite humorous.

Miles: Oh?

Me: It regards Klavier Gavin and Wright's subordinate.

Miles: Justice?

Me: The very one.

Miles: ...I'm all ears. Or eyes, in this case.

Me: It might be better if I tell you in person. Shall I come up to your office?

Miles: I'll prepare some tea.

°°°°°°

M. ♥

Maya: FRANNN COME BACK ME UP IN THE DISCUSSION ON GENERAL

Maya: THEYRE SAYING THE NEW SEAOSN SUCKS

Me: That's impossible. Surely nobody could have such wrong opinions.

Maya: IM TELLING YOU ITS TRUE

Me: I'm coming.

Maya: THANKS :DDDD

Me: Anything :)