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Being back in Germany was difficult.
Franziska Von Karma was a woman of her own will – and her own will had decided to bring her back to her home. Her true home.
Departing from the airport had ended up a rather emotional affair, to her agitation. Von Karmas were influential and impassive. They did not break down in public spaces when presented with instruments of violence. Most certainly not.
Then, why had she done just that?
The Von Karma mansion was, as always, deserted and barren. Franziska couldn’t remember a time where it hadn’t been. Her heels clicked against the expanse of cold marble flooring as she traversed her childhood home.
Could it even be called a home?
Miles sometimes likened it to a graveyard when they talked. “It was a place where my adolescence went to die,” he would say. She would scold him, telling him that he was exceptionally fortunate to find a place in the Von Karma household.
But now, in the biting cold of the empty house she used to call her own, she quietly admitted to herself that her brother was right.
—
Heating still turned off, Franziska made her way to her former room.
She brushed her fingers over the dust-covered sheets. The lack of personality in the room made her feel physically ill.
The only items of furniture in the room, though ornate, were completely devoid of life. A beautiful black-wood desk sat in the corner, covered in nothing but a layer of dust and old law books. Shelves adorned the walls, filled with nothing but trophies and ribbons that she didn’t even remember receiving.
Everything here was simply a product of her father. She was simply a product of her father.
And she despised it.
Franziska sat on her bed, coughing as the clouds of dust consumed her. She removed her shoes and just lay there, staring at the sickly blue canopy.
Blue. Did she even enjoy the colour? Or was this yet another hand-me-down from Manfred Von Karma? Was nothing in her pathetic life unique?
Nothing she did was for herself. The name Franziska meant nothing to anyone unless ‘Von Karma’ was attached. She was devoid of personality and life, a one-to-one recreation of her desolate room.
Loathing bubbled up in her throat. Despite her best efforts, she could never be the person she so desperately tried to mirror. And yet she had already followed his footsteps far too closely; was she destined to pursue the same dark path as the world-renowned Manfred Von Karma? Had she already done so?
With no one to witness her melancholy, Franziska hugged her knees to her chest and began to sob. She was a waste of potential, a waste of time, a waste of space – a waste. She sobbed ever harder.
Unfortunately, bawling her eyes out on her childhood bed was not nearly as cathartic as she inwardly hoped it would be. It only served to increase her sense of self-revulsion. Nevertheless, she continued to cry into her sheets, her breath beginning to escape her.
Foolish . That’s what she was. That’s what she was for heedlessly following behind her father like a blind dog – loyal to a fault, running back with no regard for the abuse that waited for her at his hand. She could bare her teeth and bark as much as she liked, but it would not change the fact that she was nothing but an irate mutt who was not worth anyone’s time.
Her sobs escalated to almost screams as she sunk her fists into the firm mattress. Mascara and foundation stains blotted the bed sheet, but at this point, Franziska couldn’t bring herself to care one bit. Scheiß auf diesen Raum und alle damit verbundenen Erinnerungen.
She couldn’t bear to think of the life she had lost in favour of the perfect prosecutor life that she – no, her father – had built up for her. Was it possible to mourn a past you had never experienced? No, that’s ridiculous. But really, this room laid it out quite nicely. Franziska Von Karma had never been in control. She was nothing but a marionette, dancing to the tune of her father’s cruelty.
Franziska began to choke on her own sobs. The dust coating everything was surely not helping. Before she knew it, something other than loathing was building in her throat. She sat up rapidly, but it was too late – vomit spilled all over the pristine alabaster tile. Eugh.
Mouth burning, she stood up and reached for her phone. She scrolled through her contacts shakily until she approached the ‘M’ section and hit the first number she saw. It rang out twice before the other end picked up.
Unable to contain herself, she immediately began to bawl into the phone. “I h-hate what I am. I- I'm nothing but a pathetic copy of him, I- I just, Verdammte Scheiß , I just vomited all over the floor, it’s-” Before she could continue, a voice on the other line stunned her into silence.
“Prosecutor Von Karma?”
In that moment – that terrifying, terrifying, moment – Franziska realised that she had not in fact dialled Miles Edgeworth, but Maya Fey. Scheiße.
“M- Ms. Fey. I deeply apologise for this... incident. I had intended to call my brother.” she attempted to steady her trembling voice. This is beyond humiliating… Gott, do I ever stop losing?
“No, no! Don’t worry at all!” Maya quickly replied, her voice clear even over the phone. “You threw up, right? Do you wanna clean up then talk about it?”
Franziska was temporarily snapped out of her humiliation because of the unadulterated confusion that hit her. She had talked to Maya Fey perhaps once or twice one-to-one; they were formal acquaintances, barely friends.
Strangely, she was compelled to agree. “Y-yes, alright . I will... I will clean up this mess. Then I will… call you back..?” Franziska felt small, vulnerable. More vulnerable than she’d been in years. Even more strangely, she didn’t despise it.
“Oh, I can stay here while you clean if you’d like! I can like, talk about some random shit – I’m great at that, hehe.” Franziska couldn’t help but chuckle, too. This was odd. Very odd. But she had to admit, it was rather nice.
So she located the cobweb-filled cleaning closet of her adolescence and got to work disposing of the mess while Maya debriefed her on the happenings of the apparently long-awaited Signal Samurai remake. Within that fifteen minutes (the only perk of the marble floors were that they were easy to clean, really), she learnt more about the Steel Samurai cinematic universe than she had ever wanted to know. And she was okay with that.
So okay with it, in fact, that even after she had finished cleaning, she continued to listen. How was it that Maya Fey made these rambles endearing? When Miles attempted to discuss anything even remotely Steel Samurai related with her, she was suddenly filled with an urge that Cain could have sympathised with.
Maya seemed to have noticed the absence of scrubbing and spraying sounds. “Oh, are you done? Do you wanna talk about what happened, then? It’s cool if you don’t wanna, by the way. Just might help, you know?”
Franziska hesitated. “I… I’m not sure about this, Ms. Fey,” she cleared her throat, trying to keep a shred of dignity. “I do not think it would be appropriate to erm, overshare? Do not misunderstand, I greatly appreciate your efforts to console me, it was very kind of you to do so. I am, unfortunately, not familiar with sharing my experiences to this extent. I do not believe it to be flattering.”
She heard Maya huff a small sigh on the other side of the phone. “Okay, well, first off – you can call me Maya, no one calls me ‘Ms. Fey’, no offence. Secondly, I get it’s hard to open up for the first time, and hey, maybe you don’t even wanna open up to me. That’s all good. I’m just saying, it might be nice?”
Franziska was silent on the other line. Maya seemed to take this as a cue to keep talking. “You know, when I was a kid, my mom just kinda up and left. It was just me and my sister, Mia, then. But then, uh, Mia, she left too. And it wasn’t her fault, she was doing what she thought she needed to do. Um, but obviously, she didn’t… get to do what she needed to. And now I’m- I’m just sort of alone, you know? Or I thought I was, before I met Nick, haha. Anyway, my point is, it’s always good to get your feelings out, one way or another.”
Gripping her shoulder tight, Franziska remained mute. Maya Fey had endured a great deal of pain and anguish and still persisted. She, too, was made to stand against the scrutiny that accompanied a legacy so extensive. She, too, was abandoned by her parent, her sibling.
Maya sat hushed over the phone, seemingly waiting for Franiska to say something. “I am sorry about your sister. And I am glad her killer was eventually brought to justice. I understand that my brother’s case may have had a hand in somewhat digging deeper into the fate of your mother, too. In a bizarre way, I feel as if I relate to your situation.”
“Yeah, I feel like you do, to be honest,” Maya began. “Your dad, he… did that, and Edgeworth uh, ‘chose death’. I bet you’re still mad at him for that, huh? I would be too.” she mused.
“I would not say I am mad at the moment – upset, yes. Utterly baffled? Yes, as well. But I cannot bring myself to be angry at him any more. I… I do not commonly feel pity. But after my little brother explained his, erm, reasoning… I could not help but commiserate with him, eventually. At first, however, I thought him selfish; selfish for attempting to escape – attempting to leave me behind with… all this. However, my recent… mishap has made me realise that if I do not bury myself in studying or other distractions, my decision may have been the same.”
“And this is why we need to talk about our feelings,” Maya joked, but then immediately sobered. “But seriously, do you want to talk about your ‘mishap’? You seemed really distraught when you called.”
Franziska bit her finger and sighed. “I came to a realisation, after I entered the Von Karma mansion. I… This house, it cannot even be called a home. Even my childhood room, it bears no connection to me at all. This would already be quite upsetting to realise, but I came to a second realisation, too – I would not be able to distinguish what could have been put there, what would make it feel like ‘me’. I fear that in my endeavour for perfection I have forfeited an identity.”
“I get that. I get feeling like you didn’t really have a childhood, I really do. I might not get it to the degree that you do, with your awful dad and all that – I still had my aunt Morgan, after all – but I get feeling like you wasted your time. But the thing you have to learn, and you will learn it along the way, is that there is always more time. You’re only 18, and you’ve got a whole new life ahead of you; you can develop interests, meet people, whatever you fucking want! It’s awesome.”
She blinked. Hm. Perhaps Maya was right. She did have time. “Hm… Thank you, Ms. F- ah, Maya. I will… look into some hobbies, when I have the time. Do you… happen to have any suggestions?”
Maya’s voice lit up with excitement. “How do you feel about watching the original Signal Samurai?”
—
As it turns out, ‘ Neo Olde Tokyo Traffic Safety: Signal Samurai ’ was quite possibly the most uninteresting television show Franziska had ever watched. It was nothing more than an educational program to inform children about the importance of road safety. And while she appreciated the dedication the showrunners had to create multiple seasons worth of what was practically a glorified PSA, that appreciation did not go as far as to let her watch more than two episodes.
It was unfortunate, yes, she had honestly wanted to enjoy it – it was at Maya’s recommendation she watched it in the first place, after all – she just couldn’t. It was impossible. She didn’t understand how anyone could like it.
She made two phone calls that day. One to Miles Edgeworth, to A) Inform him of her safe arrival to Germany, and B) Berate him for being dimwitted enough to be entertained by Signal Samurai. “Franziska. I’m glad you called me, and I’m glad you landed safely. But I am thoroughly confused by your sudden onslaught of insults,” Miles said wearily. “It is far too early for this.”
“ Kleiner Bruder , I am fully aware of the time in Los Angeles currently. It is already 8 o’clock in the morning. You should very well be up and working.” Franziska chastised. Miles yawned over the phone, and judging by the bed creaking noises she heard, he moved around the bed slightly. Strange. She was under the impression he owned a water bed. “It’s Saturday, Franziska. I never told you the show was good, or even spoke to you about it. I assure you I am well aware of its quality.”
“Miles Edgeworth, you own merchandise. ” Franziska persisted. “That I received as a gift when I was 9!” Miles shot back. “...Who’s on the phone?” A third voice yawned.
Dead silence. “ Kleiner Bruder. Please. Tell me that was anyone but Phoenix Wright.”
“It was Phoenix Wright.” Miles admitted solemnly.
Franziska hung up.
—
The second phone call she made that day was to who else but Maya Fey.
“...In bed, with my brother! Absolutely unbelievable. That is to say that I was aware of their… affections. I just did not think that the fools would ever reach that stage. Eugh.” Franziska paced around her kitchen, waiting for her pot of water to boil over. “Eww, don’t word it like that, dude,” Maya said disdainfully “But yeah, I didn’t think they’d get that far either. Huh. Anyway, more importantly, how did you enjoy ‘ Neo Olde Tokyo Traffic Safety: Signal Samurai’ ? I’m surprised you even watched it, honestly.”
“‘Watched’ is a very loose definition. I viewed the first two episodes and decided that it was very much not worth my time. I truly do not understand the intense adoration you have for this show. They are traffic lights. ” Franziska sighed. “Hey, I never said it was good! It’s just the first installation in the Samurai-verse; a must watch for anyone trying to get into it!” Maya said, attempting to defend her appalling taste in television.
“I am not interested in ‘getting into’ the ‘Samurai-verse’, Maya Fey,” Franziska chopped her zucchini sharply. “I simply tried adopting your recommendation out of courtesy and gratitude.”
“Well, would you be interested in adopting another recommendation?” Maya asked eagerly. “I’m listening.” Franziska continued to chop vegetables. “How willing would you be to watch ‘ The Steel Samurai: Warrior of Neo Olde Tokyo ’? Of course, not watching Signal Samurai will be a little bit of a problem… Hm…” Franziska sighed and checked on her pasta.
“Oh!” Maya exclaimed “I can just watch it with you! I’m free right now, if you’d want to watch the first season? I dunno the timezone over there, but I trust that you’ll tell me when it gets too late, okay?”
Franziska glanced at the digital clock in her kitchen. It was 9:45PM. “I will need approximately fifteen more minutes to finish my pasta. Then I will be available.” “Alright, cool! I’ll call you back, then.” Maya hung up the phone.
She finished up the vegetables and began to saute her garlic. Cooking was always something that came naturally to her. Her brother could not relate to this – the last time he had tried to make this exact recipe, the bitter taste of burnt garlic was the star of the show.
Once a minute had passed, she added her chicken breast and moved aside to drain the pasta. After that, the mushrooms, zucchini, pasta, and finally pesto were all added to her pan. Moving some to a plate (and topping it with generous amounts of parmesan) and the rest to a large tupperware container, she picked up the phone and texted Maya.
Franziska Von Karma → Maya Fey
Franziska Von Karma 10:02 PM
I’m available now, if you’d like to watch the Steel Samurai.
Maya Fey 10:03 PM
yay!!! ill video call you in a second :)
is whatsapp okay? ill need to have it on my laptop to stream the show lol
Franziska Von Karma 10:03 PM
That should be fine, yes.
I will also get my laptop for the best viewing experience of this… children’s show.
Maya Fey 10:03 PM
im glad ^_^
all ready now!! jst call me whenever u can <3
Franziska retrieved her laptop and sat at her dining table with both it and her dinner. She then called Maya, who picked up instantly.
“Hello! Are you excited?” Maya immediately urged. “Not particularly. Signal Samurai was… subpar.” Franziska put a small piece of pasta in her mouth. It was divine, if she said so herself. This pesto recipe had never once failed to please her.
“Don’t go in with such a closed mind! Sure, Signal Samurai isn’t that great, but ‘ Warrior of Neo Olde Tokyo ’ is a classic! I’ll make sure to fill you in on bits that won’t make sense unless you’ve watched Signal Samurai, too.” asserted Maya. “Hmph.” Franziska checked the time. It was now 10:23. Surely a children’s show will not take too long to watch?
—
Five hours later, Maya was still rambling about the allegedly homoerotic relationship between the Steel Samurai and the Evil Magistrate. Regrettably, she had come to a point where she completely understood that perspective. It was peculiar how hard the showrunners were trying to establish a relation between the Steel Samurai and the Pink Princess. Franziska understood why they were trying to do it – she just did not understand how they had managed to make their supposed relationship fall so flat.
“...Aaand there it is! That gay little smile he has while walking away from the Steel Samurai. So yeah, that’s all of season 1! Should we start season 2, or…? Wait, what time is it for you, Franzy?” Franziska started at the nickname, but still glanced at the time in the corner of her screen. 3:32 AM.
“Ah… it’s…” Franziska began, but she was cut off by Maya exclaiming. “Jesus Christ, it’s 3AM over there? Go to bed, oh my God! You can watch the rest in your own time, but make sure to keep me updated! You have my number, just text or call me, okay?”
“Alright. Thank you for… watching this with me, Maya. I appreciate you taking time out of your day.” Franziska added, uncharacteristically sentimental. “Are you kidding? I love rewatching this show any chance I get – I should be thanking you for listening to me geek out for what… five hours !? Man, I never realised how long it was… any way, feel free to call whenever, for whatever reason! Just make sure you get enough rest, okay? I don’t know what you do all day, but knowing you, it’s probably intense. If things get too much, just shoot me a text, alright? Bye!” Maya hung up the call.
Call whenever, hm?
—
For the next month or so, Franziska had a schedule. Wake up, eat, study, watch Steel Samurai, call Maya, sleep. The calls to Maya ranged from a short five minute rant about how her back hurt from hunching over a desk all day to three hour long in depth discussions of their childhoods, miscellaneous gossip, and Steel Samurai lore.
“...I swear, Edgeworth’s car is constantly in Nick’s driveway…”
“...We were homeschooled, so we did not have one inkling about what real children were like…”
“...If Redd White didn’t go to prison I would have killed him myself, I swear to God…”
“...The Pink Princess is constantly overlooked by both the creator and the fans, it’s frankly ridiculous…”
“...That wrinkly old bastard looked like a vampire, and not one of the hot ones…”
Franziska didn’t think she’d called any person this frequently in her 18 years of life. Even Miles Edgeworth, her brother, only called about once or twice per week. Though she supposed he was now too busy canoodling Phoenix Wright to care about his poor sister. Tch.
—
Her attitude towards calls had changed, however. Now she would positively talk his ear off whenever he did have the sense to call.
“...Yes, that’s all well and good, Franziska. I do agree with your points, however I must ask – when the hell did you get into ‘ Steel Samurai: Warrior of Neo Olde Tokyo’ ? I have never once heard you express any interest at all in watching children's shows, much less the Steel Samurai .” Miles sighed.
“Maya Fey insisted I watch it,” Franziska contended. “I don’t mean to pry, but it sounds like you’ve been speaking to Ms. Fey a great deal recently. Is there any reason?” Miles stirred his tea audibly.
“She simply aided me during a difficult time. She suggested I acquire some hobbies, too.” Franziska replied quizzically. Why is Miles asking these questions?
Miles paused his tea-stirring. “You’ve never once listened to my suggestions about hobbies you should pick up.” “Perhaps that is because your recommendations are abysmal. Knitting ? You sincerely wanted me to pick up knitting ?” sneered Franziska.
“It is more believable that you would pick up knitting as opposed to watching children’s television. What are your thoughts on Ms. Fey?” Miles continued to stir his tea idly.
“Well, talking to her is a welcome change from my regular day-to-day. Though, on occasion, I do feel quite… unusual, conversing with her. A sort of unease, although not unpleasant. It shall not deter me from speaking to her, no matter how irritating it is. A Von Karma must power through anything.”
“...Yes, quite. Franziska, have you ever considered your sexuality, in any manner?” Miles inquired.
“Excuse me?” Franziska was absolutely bemused. Miles coughed. “Have you… ever considered the possibility that you might be attracted to women?”
“Miles Edgeworth!” She exclaimed indignantly “Just because you are a raging homosexual does not mean it runs in the family. Let it be known that I am not insulted by the insinuation I might be attracted to women, I am insulted by the fact you are exceedingly moronic.”
She hung up the phone.
...
......Oh.
She rang him once more. “Hello again, Prosecutor Von Karma. Ready to continue the conversation, hm?” Miles asked smugly. “Shut up, du kleiner Scheißer. ” Franziska snapped. “Whatever my… feelings towards Maya Fey may be, I must not let them distract me from my duties as a prosecutor… It’s what Papa would have wanted.”
Miles chuckled lightly, annoying her even further. “You know, I thought the same, falling in love. But Manfred Von Karma is dead, Franziska. You’re free. And it will take a while, I know, for you to accept that you are free – but the payoff is worth it. And one of the best ways to accept freedom is to stop locking yourself in new cages; clearly, you still need time, and that’s alright! Healing takes time; what’s the problem with getting a little bit distracted? You will always have more time, Franziska. Time to figure yourself out, and other people out, and the world out. Live the life that was robbed of you.”
Franziska was thankful that she and her brother were not face to face, otherwise he may have seen the tears that began to well up in her eyes. Though she knew he wouldn’t have pointed them out, in any case.
“...Thank you, kleiner Bruder." I will… I will try to allow myself a little more leeway with such things…” The siblings sat in silence for a moment, broken by Franziska once more. “ You on the other hand desperately need to get your hands off of Phoenix Wright! Verdammte Scheiße, over a month has passed, and you are still yet to explain why you were in his bed that day, kleiner Bruder .”
“I- It’s quite a long story, alright?” stammered Miles. “I have plenty of time, Miles Edgeworth.” Franziska asserted. “Another time, perhaps. For now, what are you planning to do about Maya Fey, hm?” Miles seemed to make a quick recovery – but Franziska knew he would crack eventually.
“I am not planning to do anything currently. I am quite pleased with our relationship as-is.” She admitted, expecting Miles to be adamant about Franziska making advances on Maya, but she was pleasantly surprised. “Quite sensible. Though, do make sure that it is not fear holding you back, Franziska.”
In spite of herself, Franziska smirked. “Of course not, Miles Edgeworth. Fear does not faze me.”
—
Fear fazed her. It fazed her awfully.
She did not lie when she told Miles Edgeworth that she was pleased with their relationship already. But now, as she turned the idea around in her head, she desperately wanted to do something about it. How did her brother deal with this feeling for years? Especially over such an undeserving specimen?
As she lay on her bed, sheets sprawled half over her, she received a text message.
Franziska Von Karma → Miles Edgeworth
Miles Edgeworth 10:23 PM
events.berlin.com/samuraistage
You know what to do.
She opened the link to find information regarding an exclusive Steel Samurai stage show happening in Berlin. Miles was right. She did know what to do.
—
Maya was ecstatic. “An exclusive stage show!? Of course I’d love to go with you! I’m sure I can get Nick to pay for my tickets over there-” “No need. I will cover all the costs. The Von Karma fortune must be used eventually, correct?” Franziska grinned. She would need to thank her little brother later.
—
The day of Maya’s flight finally arrived. She texted Franziska before boarding the plane, presumably expecting her to be asleep. But of course, she was not.
Franziska Von Karma → Maya Fey
Maya Fey 3:58 AM
hii franzy :D getting on the plane now
cant wait to see you!! <3
Franziska Von Karma 4:00 AM
Have a safe flight.
I cannot wait to see you either, Maya. 💙
Maya Fey 4:00 AM
FRANZISKA VON KARMA WHY ARE YOU STILL AWAKE
it is 4 in the morning for you go to bed silly!!!
ill text you when i get to the airport ^_^
—
The rest of the night (and the next day) was spent eagerly anticipating that text from Maya, even though she knew it would not come until much later. Franziska had even taken to tracking her flight – mostly to make sure her plane had not crashed (which it did not, thankfully).
At 2:30 PM, Franziska got into her car and drove to the airport, barely able to contain her elatedness any longer. And she didn’t have to.
At 3:04 PM, Maya Fey emerged from Arrivals, saw Franziska, dropped all her luggage, and began dashing towards her like an olympic sprinter. She took the hint and opened her arms.
Maya leaped onto Franziska, clutching the back of her coat as the other woman spun her around. “Franziska! Oh my God , you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this…” Franziska blinked, taking a moment to process what had just been said to her.
But it all made sense when Maya kissed her on the cheek.
She couldn’t help but think that this was the way things were meant to be.