Catty: Why am I creating a new story when I can't even handle those I have already????
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[Chapter One]
"Franziska," my father, Manfred von Karma, called upon me, "Come meet Miles Edgeworth." I poked my head out of the doorway and looked over at Miles who stood emptily at the right of Daddy
"Hello, Miss von Karma," Miles offered, simply. He didn't smile. He didn't even move to shake my hand or anything. He simply stayed how he was.
"Hello, Miles?" I tried, poking my head into the room a little more. He remained silent.
"Miles will be staying with us, Franziska," Manfred explained, "Alright?"
"Mm'kay, Daddy," I nodded.
"Good," Manfred accepted, "Come along, Miles. I'll show you to your room." Before he disappeared with my father, he took one last look back at me. As our eyes met and I felt pity for him, though I didn't know why. All I knew was that he lost something of great importance
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He sat reading a newspaper filled with words that would put high school students to shame.
"Miles?" I sat beside him and looked over the article, "What are you reading?"
"It's about an old friend of mine," a small smile hinted at his features, "Phoenix Wright. He won an art contest recently. It's a very good piece, though I wish I could tell him that myself. My friend, Larry Butz, competed too and came in the top five."
"Do you like art, Miles?" I wondered.
"Well," he considered, "Art is nice, but I want to be a defence attorney, just like my dad was."
"You're only in fourth grade, Miles," I pointed out, "How can you know what you'll want to be?"
" When you really like to do something, Miss von Karma," he explained, "You keep chasing it, no matter what."
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Miles didn't need to stay for the whole trial to know how it was going to end. Yanni Yogi was going to be let free. He was going to be declared innocent. Robert Hammond had made sure of that. Finding every loop-hole, dodging every obstacle. I caught Miles leaving the courtroom out of the corner of my eye and made to follow him.
I followed him to the lobby, where I watched him pull a piece of paper out of his pocket. It was the article of his friend, Phoenix Wright, from a few weeks back. He took one glaring look at it and tore it in half. Once. Twice. Three times.
"Miles!" I interjected. He looked up, startled for a second before turning to glare at me.
"Go away, Miss von Karma," he snapped, crumpling the newspaper shreds. I took his arms and tried to gently pry his fist open but he refused to budge.
"Miles?" I muttered, "Why are you doing this?"
"Because everything I've ever believed in was a lie," he stated, "Bad people are supposed to be locked away forever, if they commit a crime. That's how it works. I don't understand anymore, Miss von Karma." For as long as I can remember, this was the first and the last time I ever saw Miles cry. He didn't bawl uncontrollably or shake with sobs, rather, he simply sank to the floor trying to hide his face as a few tears streaked down it. I felt a pang of pain and pity for him because of the predicament that played out before him.
"Miles," I whispered, sitting down beside him, "I don't understand it either and I know it can be hard sometimes but you can move on. Now you've got the best prosecutor ever as a daddy. What more can you ask for?"
"He's your father, Miss von Karma," Miles sighed, "Not mine."
"He's your daddy now too, Miles," I insisted "Which means I'm your sister and, as such, you need to call me by my first name. Franziska. Go ahead, try it."
"How about Franzy?" Miles returned my gesture with a feeble smile, though tears were still in his eyes.
"Yeah," I gleamed, "Franzy."
"Well, Franzy," Miles offered, "How about I make a deal with you. I'll be strong if you promise to stick by my side, no matter what."
"Pinky promise," I locked pinkies with him "Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my thigh."
"I believe the term is eye, Franzy," Miles snickered.
"You could die from loss of blood if somebody stabbed you in the thigh," I countered.
"Objection!" Miles exclaimed, "A needle wouldn't make you loose that much blood!"
"Oh... Bleh," I muttered, before tugging on his arm, "Come on, Miles. Let's go home."
"I'm sorry, Franzy," Miles looked away "I need to know how this ends."
"But... You won't like it, Miles," I pleaded "Don't go back there."
"I've got you now, Franzy," Miles ruffled my hair, "I'm invincible now. You don't have to worry about me anymore."
