Archive of Our Own

It's three weeks after Excelsius has been up and neatly placed behind bars that his son shows up on Kay's doorstep.

At least, Kay is fairly certain it's him. She squints through the grainy security camera at the person standing several floors down. It's raining, and it turns out without the iconic lick of hair on his head the guy can look a bit generic.

"U-uhm," says probably-Eustace, "Kay? Th-this is your home, right?"

"Depends who's askin'!"

Even with her voice surely distorted by the microphone, Eustace brightens up. "Oh, g-good! I tried a few other apartments, a-and they weren't t-too pleased by a stranger dripping on their doorstep so if I didn't find you soon I was going to pick up the towel and-" He pauses. "Oh. May I come in?"

Kay considers this for a moment. It's not that she thinks Eustace is dangerous by any means- she's fairly confident she's seen him at his absolute worst and, well, that made it hard to fear a person- but the idea that he had plodded through the rain just to see her was… worrying at best.

"Kay? A-are you still there?"

"Oh? Uh, yeah!" It surely wasn't a problem that would go away by ignoring it. She'd wave him in, see what he wanted, and go from there. "Totes! Whatcha staying out there in the rain for? You're gonna melt!"

"People can melt in the r-?"

Before he has time to finish the thought, Kay has buzzed him in. He startles for a moment, unsure of what to do, and Kay has to prompt him with a, "If you don't open it, it's gonna lock again-" which has him fumbling for the handle all too desperately.

It takes him a minute or so to climb up the flights of stairs, during which Kay stands by the entrance and thinks. The Eustace she has… known is a strong word, but seen post-Simeon-mess was freshly insecure, yes, but still knew how to hold it together.

It was only in those precious few moments after he'd been kidnapped that tears seemed to leak out of every pore, that he struggled to construct a sentence without utterly collapsing. Yet just now, he had barely been able to talk her.

How terribly must he dread what he's come here for?

There's a knock and Kay springs into action, willing her concerns away. With a "Hiya!", she swings the door open, revealing a Eustace that is utterly soaked to the bone. He somehow looks more pathetic than the grace the security feed had granted him.

Rainwater clings to his face, running tiny rivers through his bangs. His uniform hugs his frame awkwardly, seemingly unsure of how to place itself. Despite all this, it takes Kay a moment to realize what's truly the most off-putting thing: the lack of his bright red jacket, blazing and nowhere.

"I got you a cake!" Eustace blurts, crashing past any chances for hello. He shoves something forward with his head bowed. "On account of accusing you. Of murder. On account of, er," he pauses. "I apologize sincerely for such a burner."

"Blunder?" She takes a malformed white package from only slightly-shaking hands as it's offered to her. The alleged purpose of his journey.

"Yes, that."

It is a cake that Eustace has gotten her, indeed, one partially smushed and even made soggy by the rain that's managed to seep through the box. There's something written out in icing, either Condolences or Congratulations, but it's all smeered together and neither word would be quite appropriate, besides.

"I-I don't know what flavor you like," Eustace stumbles into an apology before she can thank him, "s-so if you hate it, just let me know! I, I can buy a new one. Splickity-lip!"

"Lickity-split?" Kay, despite herself, feels her heart moved by the gesture. Guess she really was just a big softie when it came down to it! The thought makes her feel a bit better about herself.

"Yes, that! I'll make it right, s-so don't worry about my awful cake, a-and!" He gestures frantically. "If you don't trust that it's not poisoned, I can eat some of it to prove that it's not. But I'm not trying to take your cake away from you or anything, so-"

"Hey! I love it!" Kay cuts him off with a slap to the back. He winces in a way different to how Edgeworth does and she mentally notes not to do that again. "Come on! Gosh, I've left you standing in the doorway waaay too long. Where are my manners? I'll grab some forks and we can dig in!"

"O-oh! If, yes, if we're to eat it, forks would be preferred," Eustace agrees as Kay takes him by the arm, steering him towards the couch she'd been sitting at moments beforehand. The door slams shut behind them, and he jumps.

"Make yourself comfortable!" she says once they get to the living room. She leaves him to his own devices as she rounds the corner into the kitchen, searching for plates.

It takes her a few tries to find the light switch, fumbling against the wall and cursing under her breath when it takes too long. Soon enough, though, she finds the familiar shape under her fingers, and the fluorescent lights stutter on. It banishes the peaceful darkness of her apartment, ushering in its place clinical brightness. Not that she's ever minded before, but…

The cake box is plopped onto the counter as she searches. The plates don't take long to find- it is her own apartment, after all, and just because it's a mess doesn't mean it's disorganized- but there aren't any matching ones left. She resolves to give Eustace the slightly nicer, slightly prettier one.

Though perhaps she's not quite the bigger person that she likes to think she is, serving such an unappetizing looking cake back at him. Under the kitchen lights, it looks like some grade-schooler's science experiment rather than anything a person should eat. It slides out of the box before falling unevenly onto the plates. Maybe it'll taste better than it looks…?

She shuts the kitchen lights off behind her as she leaves.

When she returns, Eustace is as she's left him: standing helplessly in the center of the room, albeit with a small puddle under his feet, now. "I told you to sit down!"

"Y-you told me to make myself comfortable," Eustace corrects despite himself. He does an excellent job of huffing about for someone who appears more akin to a wet cat than human. "And I am! Comfortable, that is. And- and. I'd make a mess if I sat down."

"You're making a mess standing up," Kay notes dryly, which only has Eustace retreating on himself. She hurriedly over-corrects. "So like, don't worry about it! Sit your sorry butt down."

He obliges, making a small squish as his clothes collide with the cushions. He is careful to sit on the very edge, as if he were sitting on a bed of needles rather than a seat designed for human comfort.

Kay sets the plates on the coffee table, one in front of Eustace and the other in front of herself. The mountains of mush look slightly more appealing now that they weren't under direct kitchen light. Phew. "Well, dig in! Thanks super much for the meal!"

"A-ah!" Eustace had picked up his plate before she had finished speaking, a fact he seems desperate to apologize for. Instead, he nods hurriedly. "Yes! You're v-very welcome."

She smiles as she collapses into her own seat, kicking up her legs as she reaches for her own portion. It wasn't… the most appealing thing in the world, no, but she swoops up a bite with a fork nonetheless. Cake is cake, and it ends up singing in her mouth nonetheless. You couldn't go wrong with raspberry chocolate! (Though it had taken her until she bit into it to determine the flavor.)

"Mm! Mm-mm-mm!" She gestures at her piece with her fork. "Woah, delish! Thanks, Eustace!"

The boy perks up at the praise. "But of course!" he says, regaining some sort of social footing. "I have the most inscrutable taste, don't you know?"

They lull into silence. For a moment, the only noise in the room is the gentle clicking of cutlery. It's the sort of thing that disturbs Kay, so she turns on the television. There's some game or other going on. She couldn't give a rat's ass on that sort of thing, but the back and forth of the commentators served as nice background noise.

Why was he here?

The question brings itself to the forefront of her mind from where she'd been pleasantly content to ignore it. Doubting others was never a fun endeavor, something she tried to reserve only for the most life-threatening, crucial circumstances, and a simple visit from Eustace was not one of those.

Probably. She side-eyes him then immediately berates herself for doing so. No, he was figuring stuff out. She tripped through understanding others, sometimes, but she managed to pick that much up about him from when he had laid there under Edgeworth's inscrutable logic.

That being said, he clearly wanted something from being here. And it was something that upset him. Was it really just some clumsy attempt at an apology?

"Kay Faraday!" Eustace says suddenly. He shatters their tepid peacefulness, his ahoge seeming to have re-manifested itself after its shower in the rain. She shoots up to attention.

"Uh, yeppers?"

"I!" He brings a hand to his heart. In the minutes that they've sat there, he seems to have had some sort of internal pep talk. "Am most cavalierly sorry for my behavior in the proceedings that occurred on April 5th."

He bows forward, just barely missing smashing his cake slice right into his chest. "You were the one most in pain- besides perhaps those who lost their lives- yet I was so concerned with my own victory that I ignored such a thing. It's diffusible!"

That answers her question, then.

Kay does not correct his vocabulary. While it is tempting and easy to laugh it off in such a manner, to handily let the conversation slip by, it would be the upteenth sidestep she's made this evening. It clearly wasn't easy to come here, nor was it something done on impulse.

If nothing else, Kay should honor Eustace's intent. Or at least it's nice to!

"D'aww, water under the bridge!" She waves a dismissive hand. "But- thank you! I appreciate it, seriously." With care, she flashes out a grin as wide as she's able. "In the moment it sucked, sure, but I'm a tough girl. I can handle that sorta stuff easy-peasy!"

"Nonsense!" Eustace shoots right back up. "You didn't even have the present of mind to remember who you were!"

"Ah…" Kay glances to the side, scratching the side of her face. The memories resurface unpleasantly, and she hurriedly tamps them down. "Yeah, guess you saw all that, huh? Ugh, embarrassing…"

"There is nothing to be embarrassed about!" He leans forward. "You don't think breaking bones is embarrassing, correct? Then neither is losing one's memory! Indeed," he taps his chin, "I cannot even imagine what it was like!"

"What it was like?" Kay grimaces. "Guh, it really was the cringiest. Nothing worth knowing!"

"Perhaps I should know?" He keeps his gloved hand to his chest, bowing his head slightly. "I-if only to better understand the full weight of my sins."

"W-well now I really don't wanna!"

"That's positive! I am self-alphabatizing. To improve!"

"Self-actualizing…" Kay groans and fights the urge to bury her face in her hands. If it'll help, then? She can understand the want to understand. And shirking from memories was… she shakes her head. She had created only more trouble for herself by suppressing them in the past.

Indeed, putting it off was the wrong choice. She inhales and thinks back.

"…it felt like I wasn't myself." She pokes at her cake slice. Icing mixed with rainwater drips off the side of it. "Which was only made more disturbing by the fact that I didn't know who 'myself' was supposed to be. There was," she searches for the right word, "a hole, and that hole needed to be filled, but as for the filling?" Kay laughs. "Could've been anything! An astronaut, a confectioner…"

"A murderer," Eustace says, quietly.

"…yeah." A pause. "Good thing I wasn't, though!" She makes jazz hands. "Yay!"

"Y-yay!" Eustace does jazz hands back and nearly drops his plate in the process. "Oops! Aha. Uhm. Can you remind me how it happened, though?"

"I- what?" Kay is taken aback proper for the first time in this conversation. "How I lost my memories?"

"Well. Yes."

It's such an absurd thing to ask so plainly that Kay doesn't understand, for a second. At the very least, that's her reason for not responding at first- then, it's because it feels bad.

"Kay?" He has leaned forward, hanging off her every word.

"Thaaat's kind of personal." Kay coughs, pulling at the hem of her glove- or at least tries to. She's not wearing them right now, after all. "If you really wanna know so bad, you can ask that nurse and her old fart."

"I-I'm not allowed to do that! It would break patient deferentiality."

"Confidentiality?"

"Exactly! So I have to ask you."

"You have to?" Kay puts her plate down on the coffee table, frowning. "Okaaay, I'm pulling out the stop sign on this line of questioning. Apology accepted, friend-o, but I'd rather just shut and watch the game if it's all the same to you."

Eustace's fingers twitch against his silverware. "Uhm. Well it's not all the same to me. I just wanna know the order of events?" As if that were a small thing! "How exactly you lost your memory."

"For?" Kay squints. "What, did something else happen in the case? Are you here on official purposes?"

"No! No, it's just me." He looks at the ground. "Eustace the not-prosecutor."

"Then don't make me remember."

 "I-" Did he just grit his teeth? "I don't need much. Look," his hands raise, fingers moving through the air. As if he were conducting. "You fell backwards, correct? Down a ladder. And before that you took some special medication. What kind?"

"Eustace, I really don't want to be-"

"B-but it's important! Kay, I-" she can't look him in the eyes right now but she can hear him swallow, "I really need to know. For m-my development, and-"

"Look, it was a shitty time for everyone involved, right?" She lets her language slip despite herself. Eustace inhales sharply. "I got shoved around so hard my brain broke, you got your dad jailed. No one was happy! Huzzah!" She jerks her head up. "So let's all just shut up and-

Eustace is crying.

Of course Eustace is crying. He's trying to cover it up, slick as murder, palms rubbing up and down his face to drag the mess all over. But it does little good. He's nearly as pathetic a sight as he was when they found him, tied up in his own garage. Despite herself, Kay feels a pang of regret.

"Look, I- I'm sorry, dude." She reaches forward to touch his knee before thinking better of it. "Don't know what came over me, h-heh."

"No… it's okay," he mutters. He inhales shakily, and the tears dry up. Yet Kay still feels apprehension wound tight in her chest, true calm just out of reach. She watches him as he takes another bite of his cake, if only for something to do with his hands.

He came to her for a reason beyond apology, that much was apparent. Whatever he wanted was enough to keep him on the perpetual edge of tears- and strong enough to keep him from running straight out the door. It was some sort of desperate feeling, indeed.

It dawns on Kay then, the intent behind Eustace's questioning. It wasn't concern behind Eustace's eyes- at least, not entirely.

It was desperate longing.

"Eustace," she says.

"Y-yes?" He glances up despite himself, then seems to think better of it.

"I didn't enjoy losing my memory." She looks at him as intently as she can manage. Eustace cannot hold her gaze, and his eyes dart off to the side- away, anywhere but her face.

"Of course you wouldn't," he eeks out. "You've done so many wonderf-"

"And I definitely," she sees what he's doing and turns the conversation back to where it should be, "don't think you should try and induce it in yourself."

Quickly, he's on the defensive. It's pathetic to bear witness to, how quickly he folds under pressure. Kay wishes she didn't know why.

"L-lose my own memory! That's, th-that's, I-" He pinwheels his hands in front of him, his plate balancing precariously on his knee all the while. "I- why would I do that?"

"Well why'd you show up with a cake just to get the 'WikiHow on losing memories' from me?"

"I- I came to apologize!"

"Yeah, and I'm starting to wonder if that was even sincere. Just trying to butter me up, huh?" Despite herself Kay can feel her hackles raise. "If I pity you enough, I'll let enough slip?"

"I meant it!" Eustace wails. At some point in their back and forth, he's gotten himself pressed against the back of the couch. Kay towers over him, fists clenched at her sides. She is angry, but at whom? Eustace? Herself? "And I d-don't want pity, o-or to perceive you-"

"Deceive me," Kay says dryly.

"I don't want to do that!"

"Then what's with the whole show?" His mouth gapes like a fish out of water. Kay forces her voice down softer. "Look, I- if something's the matter, sure, I'll help. But I want you to be honest with what you want from me."

He lets out a shaking laugh. "You make it sound so factitious."

"Malicious?"

"Yes- see, this is exactly-!" he hiccups, "why our circumstances are so, so far removed from one another! If I explained it all, y-you'd laugh."

"What?" She wouldn't! Probably. "H-heeey, I mean, we both sorta-kinda got swept up by Mr. Edgeworth right after our dads got robbed from us, so, maybe it's less of an apples and oranges situation than you th-"

"No, K-Kay, you're different!" Eustace bursts, control now utterly out the window. He fumbles with shaky, gloved hands, his shoulders hunch, tears and snot flow freely. There is nothing more that he seems to long for more than to utterly disappear. It is a complete collapse of himself. "You're- you're good, at being the great thief, at being nice to people, a-at smiling, and those are generally! All good and desirable things!"

"Uhm." Well he is right. Kay is all of those things- and proud of it, too! "Okay, but-"

"But who would ever want to be me?"

He says it in the same way that Edgeworth declares a deduction, all formal and with nary an inch to argue on the matter. Indeed, Eustace likely has followed a similar process to get to this conclusion. Kay wouldn't be surprised if such a thought has plagued him since the moment his father pulled the rug out from under him.

A terrible thought occurs to her then.

"Eustace," Kay's voice drips with uncharacteristic seriousness. She grips him by his shoulders, and he yelps. "Do you- uh."

A long pause stretches between them. He glances from her face to her hands and back again as she tries to find the right words. "Do I…?" he prompts.

"Just. Well, if you're ever feeling really low, I've already seen enough dead bodies, so-"

"I'm not going to kill myself!" Eustace shrieks in realization. "That would hurt! Th-that would hurt so, soso bad, I really- I really wouldn't want to-"

"Oops! Okay, sorry!" Kay releases Eustace, holding her hands up in surrender. He runs his hands up and down his shoulders in some motion of comfort. "I just, haha! Conversation was turning to a place real dark for a sec, so, heh! Can't blame a girl for jumpin' to conclusions, right?"

"N-no, I-" He pauses. "No I… I suppose I can't. B-but rest assured that dying is pretty unappealing to me."

"Phewy!" Kay mock-wipes sweat off her brow. "I dunno about you, but I've certainly seen enough bodies to last a lifetime! Seeing yet another person I know kick it would be way too much for the heart."

"But I don't want to be…" He continues on, his hands gesturing vaguely in the dim light. With a start, Kay realizes he's without his baton for perhaps the first time she's seen him. "I don't want to be. Me, anymore."

Kay is silent.

"My Dad isn't… my Dad wasn't a good person, right? I-it's a good thing th-that he's. That he's locked behind b-bars and-" He inhales. "And gone. But I'm still here, yeah?"

He pauses. When Kay realizes it's an expectant silence, she says, "yes. You are."

"And he made me. He made up my test scores, my awards, my s-scholarships," he shakes, "m-my career, m-m-my ideals, even my supposed friends… they were all made up b-by him! Even if I restart, t-try to move on, I still remember them. They're still… th-they're still a part of me. He's still…"

He reaches for something in the air, as if he could materialize whatever terrible comfort he clearly seeks. After a moment, however, he lets his hand go limp.

"I guess. I guess I want to know…" Gently, ever so tenderly, he brings the pads of his fingers to rest on his chest. "If I can erase every part of me that was i-influenced by him, every p-part of me that… th-that still," he sniffles, "s-still misses him, then m-maybe th-then…"

Kay stares. Eustace fights to get the final words out with a splattering of hiccups.

"There'll be s-something good left."

Eustace folds over and throws up on Kay's carpet.

—

Despite his insistence on helping, Kay ensures Eustace remains sitting on the couch while she pulls out the cleaning supplies. She even gives him a blanket for good measure, though immediately regrets it when it occurs to her that he might throw up on that, too.

He doesn't, thankfully.

"Sorry for the mess…" he mutters for the upteenth time. Kay sits back on her heels, letting the smell of cleaning supplies waft past her. She turned the kitchen lights back on to help see the mess, and it highlights the streaks running down Eustace's face all too well.

"Like I said, no worries!" She forces cheer into her words, lifting an arm and flexing it handily. "I may not know how to clean stuff properly, but Mr. Edgeworth paid for the supplies, so I can waste as much as I want!"

"Uh."

"He taught me well, so rest assured I will not accidentally be making mustard gas anymore." She rubs her finger under her nose proudly. "Rejoice! This lovely aroma will not spell your doom."

Eustace's brows have furrowed into something decidedly more perturbed and familiar expression. That brattiness that she had first encountered in prison. "I still am sorry," he mutters.

She looks back down, resuming in her scrubbing. "…if there's something you want to apologize for, it shouldn't be the puke."

Kay does feel bad about it, but lying to Eustace would feel worse. She will not pat his back and tell him everything is just peaches, not when he's knocking on her doorstep asking her to regurgitate painful memories.

She says as much when he hesitates. "I don't understand you, exactly, but what you did sucked." The worst of the bile smell is gone now, but cake and cleaning supplies aren't exactly pleasant either. "Maybe it's not proper therapy speak or whatever but I am kinda miffed about this whole plan of yours."

"I- didn't plan for it," he mutters. "It was an impulsive visit."

Kay's shoulders relax. She glances over at him. "Impulsive trauma dumping."

"I…" Eustace leans to the side. His hair has dried somewhat, becoming a matted mess that presses against the couch. "It's been hard, you know? Even with Mr. Edgeworth's help, no matter how much I look up to him-" He shudders as if repressing something. "Everyone keeps saying that 'I can take all the time I need', but what does that even mean? Until I feel better? What's that supposed to feel like?"

Kay hums. He's rambling, but the coherency to his statements is encouraging enough that she won't stop him.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking these past few weeks," he continues. "Maybe more thinking than I-I've ever done in my life. When dad… when Excelsius was around, he insisted on things for me. If I was thinking, it was an annoyance. But he's not around anymore, so I've had to be thinking on my own.

"And right now? That's what to do next. And I'm not at all certain in anything anymore, so that was pretty hard! B-but I couldn't just… I really hated sitting alone in that house all day doing nothing, so…" He pulls the blanket closer around his shoulders. "The next logical step was fixing things. And apologizing to you made sense."

Kay scrubs harder.

"At least I was pretty sure that apologizing to you would be the right thing to do, or at least I felt bad not doing it. It's probably what Mr. Edgeworth would do. But I couldn't just show up empty-handed!" Eustace gestures in the air, ever the conductor even without his baton. "I needed a gift! But I don't even know what you liked. Or what to do for an apology. When I searched it up- it being how to do this whole apology thing- the internet seemed to recommend 'cake'. But!" A grand sweep through the air that nearly hits Kay in the head. "Most everything was closed! So I had to plod through the rain to find a shop that was still open.

"And I got that, eventually, but then I realized I didn't even know where you lived. And I couldn't just not give you the cake as soon as possible, or else it would go bad. So I was running from door to door based on vague clues I remember you dropping- that you lived on the seventh floor of some apartment building or other, that it was a five minute walk from the park and there was a records shop across the street- and all I was doing was thinking. I was thinking about you and how badly you had it. How you were s-so scared, and-"

"Was not that scared," Kay says defensively. "Just confused, s'all."

"Because you forgot everything," Eustace says, like that's the point. "And the more I thought about it, how you got to leave every bit of you behind, the more jealous I got. Which is terrible! I know, I-I know I know," he flounders his hands in front of his face like a shield before Kay even has the chance to get mad, "but. If all I need to do to get rid of all of this- to get better is to swallow some pills and fall backwards, that's pretty great, right?"

Of course it's not great. Even as the words spill out, Eustace seems all too aware of the contradiction. He scowls deeply.

"It's the coward's way out. I know that." He hunches his shoulders once more, and Kay is afraid they'll need to go through the whole puke song and dance thing again, but- no. Eustace takes in a shuddering breath. "I'm quite tired of trying to be me, anymore."

"But didn't you confirm with Mr. Edgeworth?" Kay prods. "You had that awesome little mental chess battle, said 'I'm gonna be a prosecutor that's not my Dad!'," she puffs out her chest and deepens her voice for a moment as she says that part, "or whatev's, got it all squared neatly away and resolved in trial. You having second thoughts?"

"How could I not?" Eustace pulls at his bangs. "The only thing I know is true about my life now is that most of what I've done is a lie, and every decision I've made has been false. I-I'm not lucky enough that just 'cause the blinds are closed now I'll make the right one."

"Blinds opened."

"Huh?"

"If the truth is exposed, it's like the blinds- those flapper things on windows- are open now, so you can really see what's…" Kay trails off as Eustace blinks at her tiredly. Not the time, huh. He sighs defeatedly.

"Whatever. Not that it would last, probably," Eustace muses, leaning back into the couch and folding his arms. "It all just came back to you after you waited a bit. I don't think I'd be so lucky as to be faired from that fate just because my normal self is so pathetic."

"Spared?" Kay corrects.

"Yes, that." He seems to have rid himself of enough tears, waving a flippant hand as he speaks. "Look, you get my point. It was a failed endeavor from contraption. I just happened to ruin our relationship in the process. Living up to the family name, huh?"

"Conception. But it didn't just come back to me. Mr. Edgeworth needed to show me my…"

She pauses. The very foundation of who she was, cemented beyond her say. That could help, couldn't it?

"Eustace! Don't leave," she commands, stripping her cleaning gloves as she dashes out of the room. If the boy protests behind her, she cannot hear it: she is too busy tearing through her already-messy drawers to notice. Thankfully, this is one item she does not displace easily.

When she returns, it is with several spoils tucked underneath her arm. Eustace has obeyed and remained in her apartment, though she doubts he would know where to go even if she hadn't said anything. "Uh," he says. "What's that?"

"The thing that helped me regain my memories." Kay brandishes her treasures in front of her proudly. "My Promise Notebook!"

Eustace stares. He makes a small choking noise.

"You good?"

"A-ah, I just-" He clears his throat. "It seems a tad, er, elementary?"

"I got it when I was in grade school so I guess that tracks." Kay shakes it for emphasis. "My point is that I didn't just remember who I was on my own. Heck, I didn't even become the sort of awesome person I am now on my own! When I was little, my dad came up with five promises that I needed to keep. I made true on my word, and lo and behold…!" She gestures at herself, fluttering her eyelids. "Ta-dah!"

Eustace stares at the book in her hands. "…so," he prompts after a generous handful of seconds has slipped by.

She tucks it away. "So, I was thinking you could make your own!"

"What? I don't even get to read it?"

"Huh? No way!" Kay pulls the notebook to her chest defensively. Eustace frowns, and she has to fight the flush rising up her cheeks. "I-it's pretty personal, y'know?"

"I mean, sure, but you're the one who brought it out."

"To prove a point." Quickly, Kay trades the notebook for the other items she held under her arm. She shoves the long-forgotten cake slice out of the way and slams a piece of paper onto the coffee table instead. "Let's decide!"

"D-decide what?"

"Let's decide right now!" Kay brandishes her pen with a flourish. "What sort of promises will define 'Eustace Winner'!"

Contrary to the excitement she had been hoping for, the boy of the hour looks at her somewhat dryly. "I'll remind you that I'm not a grade schooler."

"Grade schooler or not, no one is exempt from the iron rules that govern our cruel society!" Kay wags her finger.

"Doesn't being a thief tend to break a whole lot of these 'iron rules', though…?"

"It's sooo crazy how the focus of this conversation isn't me right now." Kay plops next to Eustace, shoving the pen into his hand. "Get to writing, Buster!"

"Wh- write what?" He resists, leaning away from the table. "I don't even know what sorts of promises you've got in your book, so how should I know mine?"

"Come up with five pr- okay, maybe five is a little much for you right now. Three? Let's start off with three!" Kay nods to herself. "Yes, that seems like a nice enough number. 'Three rules that Eustace Winner will follow to be a good person'. So! Gimme promise numero uno."

"I…" Eustace trails off. He gnaws at his lip. "This is childish. And- haven't we established that I don't know a thing about what I'm supposed to be?"

"Bzzt! We've established that you really look up to Mr. Edgeworth," Kay points out. "That sounds like a good a place as any to start, right?"

"I-I dunno if I can become Mr. Edgeworth though…"

"Oh, definitely not. And the world's better for it!" Before he has the chance to wilt at her comment, Kay has pushed her hair back into his iconic bangs. "'Now now, Kay, the Steel Samurai is a much more refined show for grown-ups than the Jammin' Ninja'… blurgh, we don't need more old farts like that around!"

Eustace squints. "What's the 'Steel Samurai'?"

"Literally don't even worry about it." She taps the blank page. "My point being is that there's no reason or even way you could be Mr. Edgeworth. Same goes for everyone on this world! But if there's some part of him you admire and want to emulate…?"

She lets the question hang in the air. Eustace, for all his inner turmoil, seems to consider it seriously.

"I suppose…" he says slowly, feeling through the shape of the words. When he speaks, it's as if they're being squeezed out of him. "I- I admire his pursuit of the truth."

"Great!" Kay claps her hands together, causing Eustace to jump at the sudden noise. "An A+ promise! Write it down, then!"

Irritation flickers across Eustace's face. "As I reminded you before, I'm not a grade-schooler. You don't need to lead me on with… good grades and the like."

Yikes. So that sort of thing was a sore spot, then? Kay had been tripping into such vocabulary despite herself, falling into the mentality that she approached someone like Shaun with rather than another teenager her age. She rubs the back of her head. "Ehe, sorry!"

Eustace huffs, then turns to the paper. Hesitantly, he writes it out:

1: I will always pursue the truth.

He pauses, surveying the words. "Now what?"

"I mean, after one, we should do two, yeah?"

"You seem a little too unsure of yourself for someone who reposed this exercise." Eustace, on the other hand, seems suddenly more sure of himself with the pen in his hand. He holds his index finger against it, pleasantly in the conductor's seat again.

"And you're getting a big head for someone who just used 'reposed' wrong," Kay bites back. Eustace quivers.

"I-I did?"

"Yeah! I," don't actually know what reposed means, now that she thinks about it, "you meant 'proposed'."

"I-I did."

He waits in expectant silence. It takes Kay a moment to figure out why. "I'm not gonna feed you your own promises. You've gotta come up with them yourself!"

"Can you give me a little bit more to work off of, then?" Eustace protests. "How'd you come up with your promises?"

Erhm. Kay scratches her head and mumbles under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Daddy came up with them for me…" She grins guiltily. "They were my promises to him, after all."

"Th-then that's unfair!" Eustace motions as if to throw the pen away, but the comfort its shape provides stays his hand. "Who am I even making these promises to, then? You didn't need to figure them out yourself!"

Kay opens her mouth, then closes it. "Ehe, but you're a big boy! You don't need the extra assistance lil' ten-year-old me did."

Eustace's unbemused expression does not change.

"Okay fine, you can look at my promises. If that'll help." She tentatively extracts the notebook from where it lay captive under her arm. "But if you make a single tear in it-"

"I won't! I won't," Eustace assures flusteredly. To his credit, Kay has never seen him be rough with anything. Beyond his baton, that is, and even that seemed more a motion at pulling himself to be as small as possible rather than anything coarse in nature.

He flips through the pages under Kay's watchful eye. Even now, she can't help but feel a fondness rise up in her chest as she looks over the words. Kay's Promises to Daddy. 1: Never take things from a stranger. 2: Never go anywhere with a stranger. 3: Always gr-

Eustace flips past the fifth promise before Kay realizes what he's doing. He frowns. "'If you ever get a boyfriend, you must bring-'"

"H-hey?!" Kay yanks the notebook back from him despite his protests. "Uh, let's not push a good thing."

"Come on!" His chin wrinkles childishly. "You said I could look through your Promise Notebook."

"Well, not the cringey parts!"

"I think it's nice," Eustace says seriously. Kay doesn't know how to respond, so he takes that as permission to continue. "Your dad wrote that because he loved you, right?" He shrugs, glancing off to the side. "So even if it's cringe, I'd wouldn't be embarrassed by that sort of thing…"

Perhaps if she had a touch more foresight, it would've occurred to her: duh! Eustace's relationship to his father was opposite Kay's in every way. Hate where there was love, life where there was death. She fans the thought away and opens her notebook back up to the proper page.

"Whatever." She presses the book down into the table, the spine creasing out so the page holds. "Those other promises shouldn't concern you. Just focus on this first bit, okay?"

Eustace nods and looks through what he's been given intently. After a minute or so, he asks, "Kay?"

"Mm?"

"Is it alright if I, er…" He pulls at his collar under her gaze. It has begun to dry after its bout in the rain, creasing unpleasantly as thanks. "Could I use one of these promises?"

Desperately, Kay wants to say: Really, dude? She's found lovely empathy and knows well enough that Eustace needs this kindness, but these were her promises with her dad. And he even knew that, now! It wasn't something that could be traded around and used at whim.

Yet, in that same token… it wasn't something to cling to her chest and hide covetously. Again, Eustace needs this kindness. She swallows tensely.

"Sure! But only one, okay?" She wags a finger. "Pick wisely!"

Eustace takes this task seriously, looking back over the notebook and studying it like it was a crime scene. His eyes read and reread the childish scrawls so intently that Kay grows self-conscious of her handwriting.

"Maybe this one…?" Eustace points tentatively at number four: Never cry in front of strangers. Kay purses her lips.

"I mean, nice sentiment, but with all due respect I don't think you'd be able to last more than a week."

Eustace's shoulders sag.

"But! I mean, maybe you can add it eventually? Everything's super fresh right now, so you can add more promises over time. Just pick a different one!"

"…mm," Eustace relents. He glances over the list once more, then pulls his finger down slightly. "This one? There's a whole lot that flies over my head, so."

Kay reads the fifth promise: Always try your hardest to learn about things you don't understand. "Perfect!" She almost claps him on the back before remembering. She settles for pumping her fist in the air. With an air of sheepishness, he writes the line out on the piece of paper.

"Okay. Now what?" he asks.

Now what, indeed? Two down, one more to go. Kay looks Eustace up and down. "You had the first two handed to you. You tell me!" She elbows him lightly. "Come on, just one more, buck-o!"

"Don't call me buck-o…" he mutters. He takes pen to paper and hesitates. He glances over his shoulder at Kay, who leans ever closer. "Uh, personal space, please?"

"Oh! Sure, sure." She covers her eyes and leans back. "No peeking, even! I'm nice like that."

Eustace chokes through a chuckle, then falls silent. It's silent for a long time, actually, enough for Kay's hands to fall asleep, before the sound of pen on paper cuts over the quiet din of the television. It's for nary a few seconds before Eustace squeezes out a pathetic, "I'm done…"

When she removes her hands, Eustace has moved his head back down. She really hopes he isn't retching over there. His wrist rests limply on the table while the rest of his body fights to pull in on itself. Nervously, she looks at the paper once more.

He had lied when he spoke: the third promise trails off before Eustace could finish writing it. But Kay can tell what it's meant to say anyway. 3: I will stop loving Dad.

She inhales sharply.

"S-sorry, it's a really bad and shellfish promise," Eustace mumbles with his head between his knees. "A-and all too specific. Not as good as yours, at all, but I- I figured it's what I should do, s-so, so-"

"Eustace, it's…" She's really caught in a catch-twenty-two here, huh? "It's. Not bad."

"So I should do it!" He bunches up his hair, pulling at it all too sharply. Kay winces. "I knew it, I knew it, I just need to-"

"But! I don't think… I don't think it's the right sort of promise for this book." Kay grabs his hand, gently but firmly, the way she gets the mice in her apartment. He freezes under her touch before loosening his grip on his hair, and she relaxes. "I don't think you 'just need' to stop loving your dad."

"B-but he's awful." Eustace pulls his face up slightly, giving Kay a glance of his freshly dribbling mouth. She tries not to sigh. "Anyone can see that. And he hates me. What sort of alchemistic- m-matholithic-" He bites his lip so hard Kay hears a noise. "What kind of idiot would love someone like that?!"

"He was your dad," Kay says softly. Because it's as simple and sad as that.

Eustace begins to fluster, and quickly, because she can't handle that, Kay jumps in. "I mean, your dad absolutely sucks," she waves a finger in the air pointedly. "He's the worst and I'll never forgive him and he deserves everything he's got and I hope he gets worse, frankly."

Eustace makes a sound that would be more familiar coming from a boiling kettle.

"But trying to make yourself feel something on command- I mean…" Kay tries to find the words. "You loved your dad, right?"

Hesitantly, he nods.

"If it makes you feel better, I hate him sooo much." Kay balls up a fist and shakes it in the air. "For so many reasons! Framed me for murder, got Mr. Edgeworth caught up in a rube goldberg machine that framed him for murder, got y-"

"Huh?" Eustace blinks. Kay backpedals.

"Okay, maybe I should've let Mr. Edgeworth tell that one when he's ready."

"Oh."

"And!" She shakes her fist once more. "Like I was saying, I hate him for all the normal reasons pertaining to you. So you don't need to worry about, like, forcing yourself to hate him just yet." She holds his shoulders as he fails to meet her eyes. "Or at all! I… can't even imagine trying to make myself hate my dad. So take your time."

"Take my time," Eustace repeats. Kay nods firmly.

"But! You cannot be taking your time with this," she taps the paper sheet laid out in front of them once more, "because I'm lowkey getting really sleepy and I wanna see this done before I pass out."

"Ah…" Eustace's gaze trails towards his task. "I've really been a rain in the ass, huh? Mucking around like this."

"No, it's okay! We can flip this around." She holds out her hand and, after a moment, Eustace hands her the pen. She works decisively on the sheet, and in nary a moment, her work is done.

"Behold!" She fans her arms out. "The work of the Great Yatagarasu!"

The shoddy attempt at a third promise is crossed out hurriedly, replaced by a much more firm: Love myself.

"You know," Eustace says out loud. "I'm seventeen."

Kay blinks. "Okay. Me too. You're not special?"

"S-so." He clears his throat. "This kind of, er, self-help talk feels a bit…"

"What, you're too old for it?" Kay pulls a hand over his head, tussling his matted hair despite protests. "Dude, you can't say that when you clearly need it." Then, "But, y'know. It is your promise. If you don't want to make it, then…"

He glances to the side. "It's not that I don't want to make it," he says slowly. "But if I can't start hating my dad, how can I start l… lovi…" He hiccups, a remnant of the night's events. "It's just a big jump, is all."

"It is," Kay says.

Eustace waits expectantly. Then, when she doesn't follow up, he objects: "Wh-what was that whole thing about taking my time then? This feels hypo- hypothermia-"

"Hypocritical?"

"Yes! Thank you!" He throws his hands back up in the air. How wonderful it must be, Kay marvels, to bounce so easily between sorrow and indignance. Even she, when caught in her deepest depths of sorrow, finds it hard to do anything more than fake a smile. Eustace is too terrible at lying to mean anything other than the scowl on his face. "I just- can I even. Do that?"

And once again, he's small. Kay nods definitively. "Sure you can! And they're, like, totally different things anyways."

"Are they?" Eustace looks doubtful. "Aren't they that, uh, two sides of the same foil thing?"

They were, in her mind. But how to put it? She was no therapist (she'd never even been to one- heh!), and the thought of explaining such concepts made her head spin. If only Mr. Edgeworth were here…!

"The difference," Kay says slowly, trying not to notice how Eustace hangs on her every word, "is that you've got a whole lotta people who like you. Mr. Edgeworth, Gavelle… even Gummy thinks you're sweet! And of course yours truly," she adds with a flash of teeth, "so if you hate yourself for too long, you're gonna make us look like idiots."

"R-really?" Eustace squeaks. "Is that how it works?!"

"No," Kay admits. "At least, probably not? But I think it'd make us all feel a bit better if you kept this promise, at least."

Eustace's gaze falls to the side.

"And," she adds, "loving yourself will feel a whole lot nicer than forcing yourself to hate your dad."

He thinks over that. "Yeah," he says quietly after a beat. "You're p-probably right."

"Probably?!" Kay balks. "More like definitiv- infinitive-"

"Definitively."

"Yes!" She waves a finger. A yawn bubbles up in her throat, but she pushes it back down. "That!"

Eustace cracks a watery smile. "I guess…" He searches for the words. Kay is patient, even as sleep tugs on her mind. "it's always been easier to hope for external- for other people to care," he admits. "I-I've always been trying, but… doing it myself is harder."

"Yep."

"But," he repeats, like he's working out one of Mr. Edgeworth's logic puzzles, "if many people believe that I should be 'trying' to l… trying to do that," he swallows, "it's probably the right thing to do."

"Yep," Kay repeats. Eustace smiles warm and bright.

Despite the moment, she can't help the yawn that slips out of her mouth this time. Eustace blinks, pulling his shoulders back hurriedly as he remembers the time and place.

"Oh! I've been keeping you up."

"Well yes," Kay smeers through a yawn, "buuut it's no biggie. We're about wrapped up here, 'nd uh," she taps the paper once more for good measure, "good work was done!"

"Good work, indeed!" Eustace says. He sounds proud of himself, close to the way he did when Kay first met him: when he was on his first case, before he'd tripped his way into terrible reality, when he still thought the jacket on his back meant something.

Did that mean terrible failure awaited him once more? Maybe, Kay mused. But the paper- no, Eustace's Promise Sheet, was a tentative step in the right direction. She feels the notebook she's placed back under her arm- yes, it was a step in the right direction. If he tripped, then-

"Kay? Is it alright if I stay the night?"

Kay blinks back into focus, then shrugs. "Sure! I really only have the couch free, though. Uh, living room will probably smell weird but I think it's probably safe, even with the cleaning supplies, so-"

Eustace frowns. "You agreed far too easily. What if this has been a scheme to murder you in your sleep?"

"A scheme that involved you throwing up on my carpet twice?" Kay notes. He winces. "Honestly I'd applaud the dedication, but don't kid yourself. If I can throw all of Mr. Edgeworth over my shoulder, I can definitely throw you."

"Y-you've thrown Mr. Edgeworth over your-?!"

But Kay's standing up, dusting off her pants and not at all looking forward to cleaning up the dishes tomorrow. She sighs. "Bathroom's the second door on the left down there," she motions down the hallway, "mine's the second on the right, so don't knock there. Unless you need me, but I am so looking forward to a trip to Snoozeville right now."

She yawns for exaggerated effect, stretching her arms up and over her head. Indeed, she is ready to pass out.

"Oh. Uh, Kay?"

Kay turns, expecting one last pep talk for good measure. Eustace looks at her in all his down-trodden, rained on, vomit-stained glory and fidgets uncomfortably.

"You, er, don't have any pajamas I could borrow, do you?"