Chapter Text
It was as tepid as spring days go. Despite the speeding of cars from offices to lunch spots, the chattering of high schoolers skipping their 5th periods, the foraging of squirrels under newly sprouting bramble, the essence of Earth was still. Whatever wind existed wasn’t enough to shake even the weakest of spring branches, the clouds in the sky were like white freckles on a cerulean face, even the sun seemed nailed to its spot at the apex of the sky. It was a day so still, so boring, so forgettable; a day that should not have been the beginning of such an unfortunate entanglement, and yet…
“Whatcha doing?”
Franziska, like a child being caught sneaking a cookie, jumped up out of her skin. She had been squatting over the tangle of roots of a grand oak tree on a more desolate edge of the park Maya always crossed to get her usual lunch of ramen, a fact she had not known and cursed herself for her ignorance. Her hands were stained brown from the residual mud from yesterday’s thunderstorm, though why she had even put herself in a situation that would allow for mud to tarnish her hands was something she hoped to take to her grave. A hope in vain though, as she was far too clumsy in hiding her hands with her quick turnaround, not used to being the one caught brown-handed.
“None of your business, Maya Fey,” was all she could muster in response.
Maya frowned, her eyes seeming to see through Franziska to her shame hidden behind her back. “Maybe, but I’m really curious why you were playing in the mud.”
If her posture had not been perfect before, it certainly was now as a chill shook up Franziska’s spine. “I was doing no such thing,” she lied, poorly.
Maya attempted to crane to the left and then to the right, both time thwarted by Franziska’s catlike reflexes. “C’mon! I wanna see.”
Quickly Franziska stood like a soldier at attention as Maya tried to squat down herself to see between her legs. “Cease and desist! Or I will tell your keeper that you are lollygagging on company time.”
“Oh, Nick doesn’t mind,” Maya responded haphazardly, standing back up before pointing to a small fluff of white poking out from behind the Great Wall of Franziska. “What’s with the fur? Did PETA get to you? I don’t think burying it will make them happy, y’know. If it’s already dead. Might as well use it.”
“You cretin. I would never bend a knee to such terrorists,” Franziska huffed with crossed arms. “I’m simply burying some unfortunate cat, or what is left of it after a ceaseless string of cars left it mangled.”
“Huh,” Maya smirked, knowing that she had coaxed out what she so desired. “Y’know, Nick told me once Mr. Edgeworth got a little weepy one night when they went out drinking saying all, ‘I don’t think Von Karma’s are born with a heart.’ But, I told Nick (after we stopped laughing at his dramatics, of course) that I don’t think that’s true because you get all silly like this sometimes.”
The silly Maya was referring too was not burying a stray cat turned roadkill, not even the way Franziska felt the need to hide this fact, but the rather age appropriate expression plastered on her face. With cheeks that had been turning beet red at an alarming rate, lips squished together to prevent another word from slipping, and eye gaping like into a fly-like stare, Franziska stood in front of her with the embarrassment of a teenage girl who had just slipped on ice in front of her crush.
Franziska had quickly realized the folly of her words when Maya’s lips had upturned with that sharp, little “huh.” It was like a shot straight through her pride, which was tantamount to her heart and soul, and the goofy anecdote that followed was like unloading the rest of the chamber into her lifeless body. She wanted to throw up, to cry, to curl up and die, to be struck by Zeus, to be beamed up into a UFO. She was utterly mortified.
“Aw, don’t be like that. It’s cute,” Maya said to the frozen Franziska, patting her on the shoulder. “Do you want me to help? I do kinda specialize in death.”
“I don’t need help. Go away,” Franziska finally mustered, the whole situation shaking her enough that she was willing to use contractions.
Maya persisted, or rather forced. As Franziska regrouped herself, Maya slithered her way to the small gravesite. A couple of plastic spoons, most of which cracked and useless, sat next to a clump of dirty white fur, what she assumed was the departed, and a hole about a foot in diameter and 4 inches at its deepest. With bare hands, she grabbed the unfortunate creature and placed it in the makeshift grave. It fit, though barely.
“I think this is good enough,” Maya said to the now cross Franziska, who stood watching her like a guard watches a high risk inmate. “I mean, sure a fox or something will definitely dig it up for a snack, but circle of life, y’know.”
“I would prefer for it to rest in peace, or this was all for naught,” Franziska said with a scowl, joining Maya on the ground.
“Maybe if we had a shovel we could dig six feet under, but I don’t think you wanna get any more dirt on your shirt,” Maya said, pointing at the specklings of brown over the whole front of Franziska’s stark white blouse.
Franziska looked down and blushed again, though not nearly to the degree of before. “I plan to change before going back.”
Maya laughed. “I still don’t think we can dig enough with some plastic spoons before your break’s over.”
Franziska opened her mouth to protest, but closed it. “Fine. I will cover the body. You may leave.”
Maya, of course, ignored her, entering her own little world as a funeral director. “I’ll get some flowers! Oooo, and maybe a rock for a tombstone!” Maya said, rushing away towards the rest of the park.
With a smile so slight it was almost invisible to the naked eye, Franziska watched Maya hustle before turning back to the grave. She pushed the loose earth she had been collecting in a neat pile into the hole, covering the corpse. In an attempt to prevent the carcass from becoming a foxes late-night snack, she patted the mound with as much force as she could muster until she felt it to be secure enough from rogue scavengers. She looked at it for a moment. It was uncomfortably similar to the mud pies she had seen children make at parks, though a much less gradious rendition. She quickly grabbed some leaves that had not survived that previous thunderstorm, and covered it generously.
It took close to 15 minutes for Maya to collect the goods, an annoyingly long time in Franziska’s mind. She had a bouquet’s worth of flowers and an alarming amount of rocks in a pouch made by her purple shawl, all of which threatened to fall out as Maya awkwardly sauntered back to their makeshift cemetery.
“Here!” She said, holding out her spoils to Franziska.
“What do you expect me to do with all of this?” Franziska said with exasperation.
Maya grabbed the flowers and forced them into Franziska’s hand then dropped the stones to the grassy floor. “You make a bouquet, and I’ll make a tombstone.”
With that, she squatted to the ground and started stacking the rocks with an uncharacteristic amount of decorum. Franziska stood there for a moment, watching as she started her second row, then kneeled down next to her. The bushel she had been given was without any sort of theme of color or meaning. It seemed Maya had just grabbed a couple of every single flower she could find scattered around the park, wild or planted. She felt the complaints come bubbling up her throat, but she swallowed them. Funerals were a quiet thing, she had remembered, and it was time now to let the spirit be laid peacefully to rest.
Franziska wasn’t sure how long it had taken them to finish decorating the grave, but the crick that she had felt in her young knees as she stood up to admire their work told her it was much longer than necessary. They had done a beautiful job, really. A spare scrunchy Maya had was used to hold together a splayed rainbow of flowers that lay on the grave like it was a pillow on a bed. The headstone, or rather stones, was a pyramid of shades of gray 4 rocks high. It looked as though the slightest breeze could knock it over, but there was no hintings the wind would pick up anytime soon. She felt Maya’s gaze fall on her after they admired their work for a while.
“I think we did good,” she said, briskness in her voice.
Franziska nodded. “Yes. I believe it is satisfactory.”
Maya giggled, though Franziska was unsure why. “Do you know any prayers,” she asked afterwards. “I can’t remember any off the top of my head.”
“Are you not the one that ‘specializes in death,’ Maya Fey,” Franziska asked with a smirk, turning to meet her gaze.
Maya broke eye contact with an embarrassed smile, looking up through the tree’s branches. “I’m still in training.”
“Fine,” Franziska responded, with a quick eye roll. “If I must. I know one, but it is in German.”
“That’s okay! Everything I know is in Japanese,” Maya replied, the embarrassment completely gone as though it was not there at all.
They looked at each other for a moment, Maya’s expectant eyes sinking in how absurd it would be to say Catholic words for a cat. Franziska bit her lip, though only slightly, trying to bring up the courage to humiliate herself even more. She turned and clasped her hands together, bringing her head down and closing her eyes. She repeated the same prayer the priest had uttered as they had lowered her father to the ground. She was sure that she had flubbed a few words by the time they both said “amen.”