Chapter Text
She is hungry. She is always hungry, the worst part is that she is not sure of what she is hungry for. Her maw is aching, restless, something in her insides is begging to be filled. But no amount of food can ever placate that ferocious thing. She is not the smartest, she really isn’t. Complicated things often elude her, she is slow realising meanings and slower having a reaction to them.
Maya wouldn’t say she is stupid though, she thinks she is quite resourceful at least. As weak as she feels right now. Sitting outside of the Très Bien. Her throat feels scrappy, wounded. Her body in general does. She feels outside of herself, stained. She doesn’t think she is sleeping anymore but, maybe a part of her is. Maybe some part of her own spirit is refusing itself to come back to face…to face reality.
But she knows she is smiling. It hurts to do so. But she is still doing it. Why? Well Pearl needs her, and everything is already in the past. So it's okay, it's okay. Everything is fine.
But it isn’t, isn't it? That’s the whole thing, it’s not okay. There is something wrong with her.
Because why can’t she be a mess? Why can’t she cry and crumble? She is just sitting on the sidewalk. Her acolyte robes failing to placate the cold, but at this point, it doesn’t bother her, it doesn’t scratch at her skin. Maybe the training did a number for real. Because she can’t feel the cold or be bothered by the sounds of joy from inside the murky french restaurant. She is just aware of herself and her own body.
If is even hers. Maya looks at her hands, clenches and stretches her fingers. They feel odd, appendages that had been dormant for too long, used by someone that wasn’t her. Her body was not a normal one, it was a cage wasn’t it? It had kept Dalia locked, it had made her confused and had allowed Nick and the rest to learn the truth. But now it was a cage for herself.
This body had obligations, this face was meant to represent something, and her movements were meant to act. And she felt like…she wasn’t able to do that anymore. Was she a failure to feel this weak? It hadn’t been that long since the canalization…had it? For how long was she in that void…?
She pats herself down for a moment, taking the Kurain amulet and tracing the emblem of her heritage. What did any of this mean anymore? 15 years…she had been hopping, dreaming…missing…a face that she couldn’t even remember, a woman that she never knew. And when said woman had been there once more….she was killed. In front of her.
She couldn’t be mad could she? At least not with mister Armando…he had only wanted to protect the last thing that was still alive of Mia. They weren’t the ones at fault for her bad luck, they didn't need to apologize. Morgan was the one at fault, she had…She clenches the amulet strongly, she feels her teeth tearing at her lip mercilessly, she feels rabid. Why? What had she done to always be the target? Of something that was never meant to be hers!
She stops the clenching with a gasp. Her eyes widening and staring forward. Stopping that train of thought before it decides to start its trip. No, she can’t do that. She can’t be blaming her dear sister, she can’t start blaming her moms disappearance…she can’t do that…it’s not their fault. It 's not. She just has a role now, she has the role of next Master of Kurain, and that comes with dangerous things. From the plane of the living and from the other side.
You were not supposed to be the Master though.
She lets her head fall into her lap. Amulet clicking on the floor. No. She wasn’t supposed to be the next in line. But now she was, and there was nothing she could do about it. She was a fey, she was proud of being one. But she was also tired of being one…how awful of her is that? After everything that had happened today.
How awful it is that she is starting to resent Mia for dying? For leaving her in the first place to become a lawyer. She was never going to come back was she? Even if she had lived. She had wanted to ask her, when she had been filling her in. But she hadn't uttered a single word. Just letting the truth come out of her lips. Even her lost love of a man that had fought through death itself to see her again, but that he had been too late for the reunion to happen.
And Mia had stared at her. She knew Maya wasn’t alright, the girl had seen it in her expression. That every Fey woman had, the one that analyzed every inside of an inner person. That's who they were, always piercing through invisible walls. But she hadn’t done anything aside from hugging her. And Maya had wanted to spit really mean words. But she hadn’t but she had thought them, and that was eating her alive.
Something heavy and silky falls onto her shoulders. It smells like mint....It was a familiar scent, one she was used to breathing in every time she stepped into the elevator at the courthouse. One that had been present for months on the other side of the bench.
Always accompanied by the aroma of well-tanned, carefully cared-for leather. She had only ever smelled such a thing in the shoemakers' shops of her small village. But never so refined.
“It is quite cold today Maya Fey, you should be mindful about your health system”
Franziska Von Karma. The prodigy had just put a big black bear of a jacket around her. One that Maya had seen those stereotypical aristocratic Russian or German women used in spy movies. Those women that had sharp tongues and hiding pearls in some pockets. She forces a smile on, searching the amusement on that comparison to burr out everything that she had been pondering. Her hands reached down to retrieve the amulet and put it on the pocket of her robes once more.
“Girl this is nothing compared to a waterfall or a ghosty cave. I’m a tough cookie.”
“So you are…”
Maya is about to take the jacket off of herself but is stopped by a hand gripping her shoulder. Franziska has ploffed down on the sidewalk with her. She is not asking, she is ordering for her to take the offered clothing. And Maya just nods, making the German prosecutor withdraw her hand. It is…a weird situation to say the least. This moment.
Maya had already said thank you to the woman, to her and Miles. But she didn’t know how to behave or how to act around her. She was such a strict well thought girl, she was not a mess like Maya, as well as her she had a legacy to uphold. A name to live for. But she wore it proud, she wore it as herself instead of as her deceased father.
And Maya…Maya had the blurriest idea about her name. About her own identity and capabilities. Franziska was better than her, and they had the same age…but she was sure she was just a scared little girl to the german.
So thinking about that she drinks the silence and buries herself on that dumb jacket, wanting to be more like the prosecutor. A genius, a reliable source, a force that wasn’t meant to be messed with. Instead of an orphan child that was meant to walk like an adult in shoes too large for her to fit and that was threatening for it.
“The cuisine is rather awful, I’m pretty sure those dishes aren’t meant to taste like cardboard and industrial glue.”
Maya blinks and stares at the profile angulated face by her side. Eyes close, nose high. Trying not to notice that mole under her left eye and think about Mia. Even if hers was under the lip…She is trying to keep a light conversation. That is not something Maya would not have expected from the prosecutor. The medium doesn't want to engage, not really, not now, but she doesn’t want to make the girl feel bad. It is apparent that Franziska doesn’t know how to be casual, her shoulders are tense and her jaw is so pressed that it is a wonder how her teeth are still intact. So she is forcing herself to try and have a…conversation of sorts. So the black-hair girl doesn’t have another option but to follow along. Smiles still plastered over her cheeks as she leans into one of her knees.
“I was a waitress here you know, I could feel really offended by that statement Franzy. How do you even know what industrial glue tastes like?”
“It’s Franziska, Maya Fey…and it was just an expression. I apologize but your ex-job is not joyful to the tastebuds.”
“No fret I didnt cooked that monstrosity and yes, it was freaking awful, poor Gummy wanted to come here but if it were for me I would have gone to eat a nice and greasy as fuck hamburger”
“American hamburgers can't even fight for their existence, they are sorry excuses of protein, left to be and overshared quantity of grease and fats”
“Well yeah. But at least they have a non-vomit inducing aftertaste. Ey, how is hamburger in german?”
“Der Hamburger, it doesn't change a lot, the problem is not the name but the form. Has the same name but Americans decided to make it gross.”
“Oh yeah? Illustrate me oh higher being of hamburgers"
“In Hamburg, the Rundstück warm, a piece of pork between two rolls with sauce, and the Hamburg Steak, a seasoned minced beef steak, became popular. Rundstück warm consists of leftover pork, accompanied by beets, gherkins, tomato slices, or even spring onions. It is placed between two round rolls and topped with pork gravy. It has its roots in a snack that dockworkers used to eat. It's considered its ancestor, but culinary historians certainly don't agree on the origin of the modern hamburger. Some believe it descends from the Rundstück warm, while others place its roots elsewhere.
Beef patties date back to Roman times. If you investigate when they were first placed between slices of bread, you'll find that some historians point not to German food stalls in New York, but to a county fair in Wisconsin.
In the early 19th century, Charles Nagreen was selling Hamburg steaks—essentially a hamburger without the bun, whose origin some traced back to Hamburg—at the Outagamie County Fair in Wisconsin.”
Maya just seats there, hearing that accented voice talk about the theorized origins of one of her favourite foods ever. And not anyone, no, but the girl who goes around whipping men that dare to try and explain themselves as if she doesn’t know facts. That fake smile becomes genuine. Franziska is trying to change her mindset isn’t she? Alligate her mind with some random facts about buns and meat. It is so stupid, is so much like something that Maya would love, she lets herself love it. She doesn't interrump the monologue, she just basks in it, closing her eyes to just live in this moment. And when it stops Maya parts her lips lightly to acknowledge all the info.
“Your description sure knows how to charm a girl's void to disappear. Now I want to devour those fancy steaks like a messy pig.”
“I…I have Hamburg Steak at my place of temporary residence…True to self now my appetite has come back, and after all night without treating my body in the…best of ways I want to indulge in a good meal. And you should too.”
Maya opens her eyes once more, blinks and then stares at those light blue eyes. What the hell? Is she….
“Are you inviting me to dinner?”
“Affirmative, Maya Fey”
“I…what…What the hell man, you are a softie, caritative prosecutor, I never thought I would see that day. But um…ogeez lousie…I appreciate the offer but I have to stay with Pearl”
“Miss Pearl Fey can come as well, a child so small should have a proper meal on her plate. And I really hope she doesn't get food poising from this faked rococo styled trap”
Maya doesn’t know what to do, what to say. She should probably be witty, joking around, but she can’t. This level of kindness wasn’t in her plans, this offer makes that stomach of hers rumble and begs to say yes, both to the food and to this opportunity of being a normal girl around a girl her age. Does it matter if it is someone who became a prosecutor at 13 years old? Yes, maybe…maybe she could get her. Maybe she could tell her for once that her sentiments were valid. Maybe she could share them if they had the chance.
So she steps up clenching the front of the jacket to herself, feeling the strength of the foreign girl sink into her bones somehow, making her move forward and inside the restaurant once more. Franziska is walking behind her, and Maya wants to laugh at the absurdity of that, it looks like she is escorting her, like a security guard would do with an actress that doesn’t want to be under the gaze of any interviewer. When they are reaching the table where the group is challenging itself to eat, Maya is sure Franziska is going to announce her return with a trumpet or something.
Nick stops staring at a certain rival of him and worried futures burn into her. She wants to crumble right there, she wants to hide from him so badly, smile at him with the lightest of smiles, tell him how proud she is of him, how amazing he is. How glad she is to have him in her life, time and time again no matter what if she is in danger he goes the extra mile, he doesn’t think before acting, the only thought in his mind is her and having that connection with him is something she can’t place. She would give him her life, she trusts his hands to hold her and to take down every door to be able to free her. But there are doors that he can’t open and she doesn’t want to open them for him just yet, she is keeping them locked down, and him far away.
Maya doesn’t understand, it had only been three years since their meeting. But…Nick was so important to her. He…he was her big brother. They were siblings, in anything but blood. But they weren’t related, he couldn’t understand the Fey drama. Its implications, her destiny, those were things meant to be carried just by her and her alone. Phoenix Wright didn’t need a big baby being her assistant. So she sank in a breath and made a slam on the table.
“Well bitches, this food is so freaking bad that a fairy has offered me real german hamburgers. And I can’t say no to that! So I’m taking Pearls with me to this enchanted tale”
Nick's face details confusion, she can also see Miles arching a brow at Franziska behind her but she doesn’t bother with it. Just looking at a Pearl poking a big ass shrimp with a disgusted pout, that at hearing her dear cousin stops the poking and tries fast to go off her sear. Gumshoe, seeing her struggles, giggles and lifts her little body by the armpits, letting her on the floor in front of Maya.
“Such a good offer! My prosecutor is also inviting his best detective-Auch!”
Whip. It cracked near her ear but it hit the detective.
“You were the one that invented us to this treacherous place, you have the penalty of real food for a while Scruffy, so back it up like a man and swallow that putrid thing you call menu”
Harsh. Maya hugs Pearl by the shoulders, the girl grips tight her robs, her eyes starting to connect the dots from her words, the jacket and Miss Whip waiting paintily. But she doesn’t comment. Nick just looks at her, and she has to do the truck of watching the seat behind him instead of him.
“Are you going to be okay? You can call me anytime Maya”
“I know”
Is she going to tell him that she doesn’t know where her phone is? Nop. There is no use worrying him like that, Pearl grips her hand and Maya waits as Franziska leads them, saying goodbye with just a glare to Edgeworth. One that is taken with a sign and an amused shake of head. Pearl is sidestepping, denying her hands to fall onto the jacket. Is the little thing still resenting the prosecutor? It was not Franzy's fault, Maya didn’t hold a grudge over that year. She had only been doing her job, she understood now how people like her line of job worked.
They stop at the sidewalk, and the girl is calling a Taxi for them.
“You don’t need to do that”
“I don’t want to walk back to my little brothers apartment at this hour Maya fey”
“So…you are staying with Edgesworth?”
“Yes, well he has a guest residence, his apartment is by its side”
“Uf Rich people living the dream”
“I don’t think you are the one to say those kinds of foolish statements, Maya Fey. You live on a mansion”
“An old decaying hand-me-down big house, not a manor even if it says so in the little sign. Big lie”
Pearl grips her ropes tighter, and Maya combs her auburn locks. Is not that they are struggling for money…but mediums are just not a good profit, not like it used to be. They get paid for sure but…is not the greatest of quantities. This year it had been better, maybe because of her, gaining reputation by helping Nick out in his cases, but at the same time gaining a reputation of trouble seeker. So it was both good and bad for the job…
“I suppose I can see that happening, but it had for sure be proven by now a quite revealing technique in court”
“Rooting for us now?”
“When did I ever do the contrary?”
Pearl scoffs at that, and Franziska moves in place, clenching her arm in the way both siblings did in court. Maya supposed it was a nervous response or an uncomfortable one. She just waits with the other girls. The energy is leaving her system little by little. As short lived as It had been she was mourning the loss of It.
Heaviness poured over her shoulders as she pulled Pearl closer to herself. As if she could shield her away from a woman that was locked down and becoming even more resentful in jail. A part of her brain was thinking about prohibiting Pearl the monthly visists…but she couldn't do that. Morgan Fey was still her mother and Pearl loved her very much…but her aunt seemed to not have any love for her child as she had power. And Maya was pondering how to travel through that…how to care for a child that had so much love for her. That even if she had said to drop it the kid still held onto calling her as a little. She drank every word she said. Even if it was just some dumb shit about The Steel Samurai.
Mystic Maya was Pearl's favourite person. She was even before them being alone together. But now everything was up to her. Education, care, protection…everything. And now they would have to talk about things that she wished she didn't have to talk about with a nine year old. Maya didn't want Pearl to grow up like her…Should she take Pearl to a normal school? Out of the village?
Kurain was quite the closeted environment. Little to none had electrodomestics and the bus was sparse. It was too much of a traditional, outdated zone. And the now next master wanted her cousin to experience the life of a normal kid her age. That's why most of the times she was assisting Nick she was sure to bring Pearl along.
The taxi arrived, Franzisca opened the door politely for them before climbing in herself. Not before bowing like Edgeworth did at times in court. So regal. So proper. She was supposed to be a little like that right? As a high name and all that crap
Pearl is sitting between the two of them. Maya tells her a dumb story about a lost kitten. Her head is falling on her shoulder. And with the rattling of the vehicle it is very possible that the kid ends up sleeping. And so she does. Smiling tenderly, Maya makes sure her cousin doesn't fall off, arm wrapping around her to let her rest in the crock of her neck.
“You are good with kids”
Maya looks out from Pearl's little face, she doesn’t look at Franziska, or responds right away. How could she answer an apparent affirmation? And one like that nonetheless. The sickness is coming right back to her, a little voice, a little mouth that is biting her insides at the idea of it.
You are good with kids because you are still a kid yourself.
It’s a lie, she is nineteen years old, she is a young adult at this point and nothing can’t change those numbers, just time, and they are just going to keep getting higher. But herself? She doesn’t feel like an adult most of the time, even Nick treats her like an annoying child most of the time. She is supposed to act more mature, now more than ever. But she isn’t sure if she can accomplish that. She is not Franziska Von Karma, she doesn’t have her bearings planted and she just tends to try and go with the tides and not drown under them. Cause her life sure is full of tsunamis trying to keep her down. And Maya doesn’t know what is driving her to keep up, her stubbornness or her care for Pearl…maybe it is just both of them.
Because she had never been a good swimmer, but she sure can cut through rabid flows of water.
“I just enjoy their company, they are more open to fun than adults and this medium needs her doses of chaos”
“After these last days?”
“After these explicitly, getting back to normal and all that stuff”
“I see…”
“What is the most chaotic thing you have done Franzy?”
The woman by her side seems to tense a little, her fingers clenching her clothes in a strong grip. She nods for a second, tilts her head and ponders. It seems she is trying to decide for real what part of all her actions in life up until now could qualify as the craziest.
Maya thought she was gonna get shut down so this was already a surprise. When the lips of the prosecutor started to part the car reached their destination and the words were never pronounced. Making the medium blame the poor driver a little bit, giving him glares outside of the vehicle while supporting Pearl in her arms and Franziska paid.
“Need a hand with Pearl?”
“No, don’t worry I lift weights”
“I was not aware of that”
“Is nothing grand or anything, just tiny hand ones. For being a medium both your body and mind have to have a good stronghold”
“That makes sense, restraining the spirits during the canalization requires a good mass of strength”
“Um…yeah…”
Franziska plays with her keys for a moment, the metal thing rattling inside the lock. Once is open she helds the door for both Fey girls, Maya smiles and steps inside.
The apartment is practically bare, it almost seems neverending with all the vacant spaces it has. Maya feels like she has stepped inside of a furniture store. She lays Pearl on the dark red sofa and pets her hair softly, watching in the corner of her eye how the prosecutor is trying to turn on the stove. Maya moves around the room analysing quietly, searching for evidence like she had been doing this past three years while helping Nick out in his cases. It is apparent that this is a “guest” apartment. It’s vacant, it doesn’t have any core trait that speaks about someone. The only things that stand out for the medium are the Steel Samurai DVDs by the tv and a framed photo of Dick side-hugging Miles.
She wonders if the prosecutor at some point had had pity on the poor officer and had offered him the apartment. Maya for some reason thinks that the officer went two days and then left. Feeling too guilty about borrowing something so expensive from his boss.
In a way it reminded her of her own room in Kurain. It was practically bare, if someone looked at it, no one could guess it was the room of a nineteen year old girl. Everything was old, and a hand me down from generations ago, the only things she had were stored inside a big chest by the end of her futon. All her insides were close to her heart, but hidden.
The room in Wright and Co though…it was full of light. Posters, calendars, books, even one console, a ds. It was portable, but she was sure the elders would freak out and think she is slacking on her training having such potential distractions. Her having a mobile phone had already been a big hassle. But given that her sister had gone out of Kurain and she had made a present of it, they didn’t push her to get through with it.
Which one was really her home? Did…did she had one?
The smell of the meat makes her lean against the countertop even more. Mouth starts to drool and accumulate saliva , the hunger increasing with each passing moment.
“Are you going to feed me heaven Franzy?”
“The next closest thing to It. Do you believe in it?”
“In what?”
“Heaven”
“No, I'm one of the few people out there that knows what is there on the other side, Franzy.”
Perplexed, the prosecutor stops her motions. Cleaning her still gloved hands after putting the meat on the olive oiled pan.
Maya just analyzes her. She wants to know more, but clearly doesn't know if it would be rude to ask. That was a little annoying to the medium. Franziska was never this careful in court, she was harsh, direct and didn't care if the one on the platform was the accused, a witness, or her client. She was always ready to whip them, and crack the leather like it was another part of herself. But the thing was on her waist, undisturbed and resting. Why? Did she think that Maya was too weak for questioning, that she couldn’t take an interrogation as of now?
Well…maybe she was right. If she had been stronger and smarter her mom wouldn’t be dead and mister Armando wouldn’t be rotting in jail…
Maya crosses her arms, her fingers tracing the magatama that hangs from her necklace, the tips playing with the tiny droplet as she figures out how to explain this to someone outside the circle. She knows the girl researched the Kurain technique, but that's one thing, and quite another is delving into all the beliefs and knowledge. She hasn't asked, but the medium doesn't want to leave her wondering just because her mind is weak and slow.
"The other side isn't something fixed, it's not a specific place. It's a deserted world, where its inhabitants can see us through the veil. A world of spirits. There's no good place, no bad place. All the deceased end up on the same plane. Paradise and hell aren't places that exist."
"I see. What are the spirits doing there then?"
"They're watching us. Mia says that besides that, what she likes most is looking at the stars."
"Oh..."
"So, your father wasn't judged, he wasn't weighed on the scales of good and evil. I don't know if that comforts you or not, he was a fool, but he was still your father, so I don't know."
"Fool...that's my word, Maya Fey, don't go around appropriating other people's catchphrases."
"You don't own the dictionary, Von Karma, hehehe..."
"I...thank you."
"For what?"
"For the truth, I don't like being lied to, for foolish things as pity."
“Don't think too much before asking me then”
“I…I apologize I just…the revelations of today were heavy. I always sympathize with the victims and…mystic Pearl is so young and you…godness gracious. You are still smiling and is truly beyond my comprehension skills”
“I…just have to Frannie. Pearl got It worse so I can't be here feeling like-”
“You were the one being targeted, Maya Fey. You are always the target, you are more than allowed to be furious and cry. Stronger and more foolish men have crumbled over less…”
Maya's shoulders start to shake and she is not aware about those gloved hands clenching her and guiding her to a chair. Plate with meat in front of her as Franzisca hovers near. Waiting. Maya takes the fork and the knife, feeling how her stomach grumbles and begs.
As her mouth opens and tears the food a sense goes over her. Maybe it is the magnificent taste of it, maybe she is just following the advice. But her tears are going down her face as she cries, chews and weeps.
“You were right…americans make everything so so fucking gross”