Static

8. Pillow Fight

A/N: A little bit of OOC-ness sprinkled here. Consider this as my first try on making a crackfic while still within the canon boundaries.

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Into the ghostly hallways of the von Karma estate, it was like a huge haunted place, but no, it was technically not possible, considering there are few butlers and maids around.

But for Franziska von Karma, she intends to break this glacial snowball. The blue-haired girl always had a plan of chaos to bring life into the dilapidated, unlit manor.

Her missions had a perfectly, high rate of success, even if she deemed it a "dry run". Of course, aside from the maids and butlers murmuring their unbridled hatred for the kid while cleaning the mess she incurred, her father, Manfred von Karma, was also majestically pissed.

He wanted to know in his usual, unjust anger just what is going on (or rather, wrong) with his daughter's head. But eventually, he would forget them because he gets flooded with endless counts of cases stacking upon his office. He couldn't kick her out of the house either because one: she was his only prodigy, and two: it would bring the Child Protection Services onto his doorstep in a heartbeat, and that would be bad for him and his 'flawless' image.

A careless attention slip, and Franziska gets a bail all the time. She always wages her ten bucks on expressions— the weakest mask that she could clearly read. More often than not, she could easily pick out which kids in her kindergarten class can be trusted with her crayons and pencils. Not something that her father would call "perfectly efficient", but it is a progress nonetheless.

And there's  Miles Edgeworth. The gray-haired boy who always gets in her way.

She actually hated him at first, but knowing his discrepancy at all times which helped her plans into fruition, she considered him as her rendezvous point— an unexpected catalyst. A valuable, yet indirect ally to her. Seeing her plan work all the time because of him, she tried something she hadn't done in years: crossing the manor's fences. With Miles serving as the passive distractor of her father's spotlight (or sometimes, a decoy), it makes much more easier for her getaway plan to succeed.

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Franziska was now 7 years old.

These days felt different. She didn't attempted to do anything today. Up until sun down, she was clearly bored, watching how the sun set down with her back laid against the roof.

As she completed her usual mind-crunching workload from her father, she walked back towards her room, clasping in one hand, her blanket. She realized that it was nighttime. And the other one, clutching and putting one stuffed toy beside her. Her forlorn expression getting no response from her usual cuddly white teddy bear. Wearing a cute smile, and serving as her comfy companion, but it was all it has to offer. Sometimes she hoped it was alive somehow. To understand and think of what could be her next adventure in murdering her boredom.

No longer wanting to think, she plopped down her head on her pillow. Feeling the softness, she closed her eyes hopelessly.

She hated how she became perceptive as she got older.

Is she going to stay in this house forever? Quite probably, because all she heard from her father's mouth was that she had to be perfect, and only the ones who don't get perfect don't deserve to stand nor stay in this manor. This creed was still clear in her mind, and if stated repeatedly, it could render her deaf. She learnt that it doesn't matter anymore how she felt; her affection, her tears, her happiness, and everything else that shows "weakness".

She wanted to clear her name and prove to her father that she is a true von Karma. All she had to do is to find is the so-called thing named 'perfection', like it was some philosopher's stone on an alchemy book she once read. The ancestral creed of her bloodline. She did not dare to face this head-on, even if she's repelling from it, but she had to admit, it was tiring.