Chapter Text
It took a while for Miles to admit it to his father.
Miles was a quiet and discreet kid, who didn’t want to cause trouble, and definitely didn’t need his father's help unless it was absolutely necessary. He knew he could count on him, and that his father was amazing and would help without judging, but Miles still wanted to prove he was perfect and didn’t need help with anything.
Still… that thing that had appeared after his first day at school was starting to concern him.
A single word on his arm, written with big, messy letters, and occupying the entire space, from his wrist to his elbow: Indifference.
Of course, Miles knew how to read, he was eight years old and very, very bright. He knew what word that was, and he was smart enough to realize someone had probably pranked him at school.
An admirable prank, since he hadn’t talked to anybody, and no one had come close enough to him to write on his covered arm without Miles noticing, but it couldn’t be anything else.
And right after coming home, the moment he noticed the writing, Miles had tried his best to clean the messy word, scrubbing, and scrubbing, and wondering how his clothes hadn’t gotten dirty because of the clearly low-quality marker used on him.
The word, however, hadn’t disappeared.
And Miles thought, logically, that the marker was probably high-quality and indelible.
But even incredibly high-quality indelible markers weren't going to last forever, so Miles decided to wait for the writing to fade with time, and it wasn’t necessary to warn his dad.
Long sleeves, stoic face, and just forget about the strange word written on his arm.
It wasn’t an easy task, but Miles managed.
And waited…
One week.
Two weeks.
A month.
The writing was still there, black as a raven, like a tattoo.
After two months without changes, Miles realized that it was time for his father to learn about that strange and weird phenomenon. It wasn’t like Miles could refuse to show him his arm any longer, and Gregory Edgeworth was the smartest and cooler person Miles knew, so he was definitely going to offer great insight and a perfect solution to that conundrum.
“Father… there is something I need to talk to you about” he began, in a formal and practical tone. Even though he was just eight, he was proud of his professionalism. He was going to be the best defense attorney in the world —besides his father, of course, his father was always going to be the best—.
Gregory Edgeworth, who was on the sofa, reading a book, looked up immediately towards his son, with a kind smile.
“Of course, son. You can tell me anything” he gave his availability.
Miles sat down next to him, and fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve, hesitant.
Did he really want to distract his father with that useless prank? It was just a prank, after all… probably.
But two months with a big word on his arm had been a hassle, Miles really wanted to get rid of it.
Yes, he needed to tell his father.
“Father, someone at school has been pranking me. I don’t know who they are, or why they are doing it, nor how they are managing to, but I need your consult on how to stop it” at the end, he explained what was troubling him, and he felt pretty childish.
A kid that was crying to his father.
…he was still a kid, to be honest.
But it wasn’t like he was like other kids. He was mature and didn’t give his father anything to worry about.
At the moment, though, his father looked pretty worried.
He closed the book and focused completely on Miles.
“What kind of prank? How long has this been going on for?” he inquired, calmly but also clearly alarmed.
Miles didn’t want to alarm him, so he lifted his sleeve, showing his father the word.
“It’s nothing worrisome, father. But someone wrote a word on my arm at school, and it’s not coming off,” he explained, annoyed, rubbing his arm to show that, no matter how strongly he tried to, there was no way to cancel that word, that wasn’t smudging either, and kept being there, firm, dark, readable despite the bad handwriting.
His father was silent for a couple of seconds, startled, and got closer to the little arm, analyzing it.
“Did you… see someone writing on your arm?” He asked, in a neutral tone.
Miles shook his head.
“I’m confident no one got close enough to write without me noticing, that’s what’s confusing me. I’ve been very careful, but it’s still there and…” Miles’ voice trailed off. He hated not understanding something, and the mysterious word was a real incomprehensible enigma.
Gregory hinted a reassuring smile.
“Did it happen the first day of school?” He guessed, and this time his voice seemed a bit amused.
Miles looked at him, surprised. Why was his father amused by the situation?! It was clearly something annoying and fastidious. Nothing to smile about.
Still, he nodded, pouting a bit.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Miles?” Asked his father, gently putting a hand on his shoulder.
“I didn’t want to bother you. I thought it was going to go away by itself” he explained his reasoning.
“You never bother me, son. And I don’t think it will ever go away” his father traced the letters on Miles’ arm.
“What? Why? Is that some illness?” Miles didn’t want that word to be written on him forever. It was so annoying!
And, even though his son was in a state of total distress, Gregory couldn’t help himself from chuckling a bit.
“It’s not amusing, father!” Miles objected.
“I’m not amused, I’m… Miles, that’s your soulmate mark” Gregory finally explained.
Miles paled.
“Soul… what?” He knew about soulmates, of course, but nothing specific. He had read about a case when a man was accused of murdering his soulmate and the evidence had been the ‘soulmate mark’, but when he had asked his father for more information, Gregory had told him he was going to explain better once Miles had grown older.
Guess now Miles was old enough…
“Where to begin… soulmates are… when two people are very compatible… it’s like they are two halves of a whole…” his father started to explain, a bit uncertain, not knowing exactly how to break it for Miles, who rolled his eyes.
“I know what soulmates are, dad. But what does this have to do with my soulmate?” He encouraged him to go straight to the point, waving his arm in front of his dad, and he was so agitated that he was really starting to sound like the kid he was. He even called him dad... he was clearly panicking.
“Okay, okay… not everyone meets their soulmate. But when they do, a word appears on a random part of their body, and it’s a word that summarizes what their soulmate thinks about them. It can change over time” Gregory explained, more practical.
Now that was a language Miles kinda understood. Simple, didactic… completely awful!
“Wait… so I met my soulmate and she’s indifferent towards me?!” Miles asked, pointing at the word in his arms.
“You probably have bumped into each other at school, not met officially, and just know each other by name or in general. That’s why you are probably indifferent toward one another” Gregory supposed, reflecting on the situation.
It made sense.
Still… Miles wasn’t convinced.
“But I don’t care about girls. I don’t want a soulmate” he glared at the word.
“Why not? You could become friends. You should ask if someone got a soulmate mark at the start of school” his father tried to suggest.
The idea was dreading.
Miles didn’t want a soulmate. He didn’t want a little girl thinking they were going to be together forever just because the universe told them to. He had never planned to fall in love and have a soulmate. He had other things to think about, like his studies, and his books. He'd rather have a dog than a soulmate.
“It’s been two months. My soulmate probably doesn’t care. And I don’t care either. I don’t want to meet her. Can I take this off?” Miles started to rub his arm, trying to dispose of the unwanted mark.
His father stopped him before he could hurt himself accidentally.
“I’m sorry but, as far as I know, a soulmate mark is indelible. Are you sure you don’t want to meet them?” He insisted, not wanting to force him, but wanting to make sure what his son really wanted.
Miles nodded confidently.
He wasn’t going to regret his decision. He didn’t want a soulmate. Period!
“Okay, then… I won’t insist. But I hope you won’t close off too much from other people. It’s okay to make friends and hang out, sometimes” his father tried to lecture him about his lack of social skills. Two months had already passed since the start of school, and he hadn’t made a single friend, nor an acquaintance.
But Miles didn’t need friends.
He had a fantastic father, skills, and maturity.
And the other kids were all stupid and childish.
…and they didn’t really like Miles, anyway, always snickering when looking at his formal clothes and while he was doing his favorite activities, like reading, or chess.
Miles didn’t need that.
“How can I hide this, if I can’t cancel the word?” he changed the subject.
Gregory seemed like he wanted to object, but let it go, and look at Miles’ arm.
“I suppose I could buy a concealing band for your arm. But only when you go out. I don’t want you to risk blocking your circulation if you put it on too much” he obliged, giving in on his request.
His son was just a kid, after all. Gregory didn’t want him to get entangled in the problematic world of soulmates. Sometimes it was better to let relationships grow naturally, and not just because two people were destined together.
Miles was reassured. At the end of the day, his father was always the best!
“Thank you, father! I’m off doing my homework, now!” Miles stood up, smiling a little and looking forward to his new armband.
“Wait, Miles, can you promise me something?” His father interrupted him, his voice serious.
“What is it?” Miles looked at him curiously. His father never really made him promise anything. That was new. And it was probably something extremely important.
“Please, don’t let this soulmate mark keep you away from other people, okay?” Gregory looked at his son in the eyes, to make clear how vital that promise was.
Miles couldn’t understand the reason, but he nodded.
“I promise, father. I won’t let the knowledge of me having a soulmate keep me away from other people” still, he gave in, because he didn’t want to disappoint his father, and he was always right.
And he had no intention of letting that mark control his life, anyway. Miles was almost certain it would never even change from that indifference, after all. He had no intention of ever meeting the girl.
And the only reason that was keeping him away from people was the people themselves.
“It’s almost time for dinner. I’ll go prepare it. And I’ll call you when it’s ready” Gregory stood up, reassured by his son’s promise, and returned to the same old routine.
Miles went to his room, and ignored the word.
Nothing was going to change in his life, he was sure of it.