Author's Notes: … I'm named Cracktastical! for a reason.

Disclaimer: Hagane no Renkinjutsushi belongs to Hiromu Arakawa; Gyakuten Saiban belongs to CAPCOM.

xxx

Boundaries Set

xxx

t h e . i n i t i a l . p r o b l e m

Dear Diary (that doesn't sound at all manly),

I find it strange that I want to write of past events in this little notebook, when current events are the norm. But there's this unbearable weight on my chest and I can't help but. It's been burdening me for a while now, and the fact that Maya had given you to me for Christmas a few months ago feels like destiny. So I will be writing about my past, and a very important person I met in it. I personally don't know what happened to him or where he is now – but I will never forget him.

After all, he always was a little strange.

xxx

I was the new kid in town.

Translation: bait.

You don't just enter the school-year out of nowhere, especially a school in Germany. You don't punch the most popular kid in school, either, for being an idiot.

Even if you did have a point.

HOW IT STARTED

"Remember, Miles. Stay strong. Don't fall prey to the other children, and keep your thoughts to yourself. A von Karma stays strong at all times. Now go."

The words Manfred left me weren't exactly very soothing. It did provide an accurate description of what to do when faced with children in Germany, anyway. At least, considering how much knowledge I've acquired over the many years I've spent here. This is simply a recollection of all that's happened. That's all. And as I hefted my satchel bag higher up my shoulder and moved to walk forward and into the school, almost instantly, children surrounded me.

"Who're you?" One asked, smirking. "Oi, a Saukerl! He's glaring at us now!" I knew what Saukerl meant – a swear word used to insult those of the male population. I glared, yes, mostly because it was apparent that these children were those who took pleasure in degrading others. How dare they - ?

"What's wrong, Saukerl? Used to people fawning over you and going to your beck and call?" They cooed, some of them taking pebbles to throw at me – aimed to miss – even if one of them lightly grazed my cheek. "You look like one of those kids who think they're all that! Well, you aren't! You're just another one of those – "

"Stop it!" I shouted, attempting to keep my fist from swinging at them. "I don't want to hurt you!"

"Oh, look, he's threatening us now!" The biggest of the lot called, snot running from his nose and freckles littered across his face. "Whatcha gonna do about it, Saukerl? You gonna whack me in the fa –"

At this point, a pebble hit his cheek – nice and hard and dead-on.

"Hey!" Another called, and my head craned just slightly to look at whoever decided to take prey on Mister Snot-Freckles. "Quit it, you Arschlochs!" Ass-scratchers. Ouch. "He's a new kid and I don't want our school to be known for teasing, alright?"

This kid sounded like he controlled the world or something.

And he probably did, considering the children backing away from me mumbling things under their breath I couldn't catch.

The one who came to my defense (so similar to mine with Nick) walked over to me with a grin on his face, eyes closed and curved upward to match it. "So," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I apologize for their behavior. They can't catch the statement that 'strangers must be politely accepted'. And, just so you won't be a stranger anymore, what's your name?"

Finally. Some decent manners.

"Miles Edgeworth," I answered, averting my gaze. This kid had unbelievably dark black eyes; and it was awfully difficult to not get lost in them.

"Ah," the boy said, a look of thoughtfulness on his face (I dared not look in those eyes). "You can call me Roy. Roy Mustang!" With this, his hand was outstretched, and after a few moments, I took it and shook. There was a small smile on my face as I did this, as it was apparent I would not grow up without friends. So I wasn't entirely hopeless, after all.

"Alright, Roy," I remarked, letting go of his hand –

- and he immediately took mine once more.

AND HOW IT HAPPENED

"Don't I get a kiss for saving your reputation?" Roy asked with a playful little grin, and I realized just then that I was being sought after by this boy.

I felt some sort of satisfaction when I whacked said boy with my fist and shouted "IDIOT!".

"Owww…" Roy mumbled, rubbing his cheek and looking at me. I was breathing heavily and my cheeks were flushed; but Manfred had told me to stress physical ability when things weren't going your way. He even gave Franziska a jump rope to practice with for whipping. Let me tell you that playtime with her was horrible.

"Th-That's what you get for thinking I'll kiss you," I mumbled, attempting to talk straight. I had never believed in physical violence, always believing that speech could help. But now – children were gathered around us once more and chanting 'Fight! Fight! Fight!' over and over again.

Roy only grinned, and winced at the effort to his cheek. "I'm not giving up on it, though," he murmured, just enough for me to hear over the chants. "I'm getting a kiss from you, Miles."

At this, I felt myself flush once more and turn around; tightly gripping the strap with which my satchel bag was attached to.

I cared little for the children's disappointment at the fight not happening.

But I couldn't help but feel goosebumps pop along my skin at the feel of those black eyes on me.

Watching me.

Waiting.

xxx

Since then I had been named 'the kid who punched the most popular kid in school'. It was a mouthful, but it stuck. At the same time, it created some sort of wall in-between Roy and I, apparent enemies in this school. There were children on my side, pulling me away whenever I would attempt to speak to my first friend – if only to apologize; and the same went for Roy. This was the initial problem. We had no means of contact or communication, unless we did so outside school premises.

The problem was I never did get to ask him for his contact details and the like.

So I got plenty surprised when something else happened.

But, as much as I want to speak of it – I cannot. There's a knocking at my door and shouts of 'Hey, pal! The trial's about to –' and so on and so forth. I'm sorry, dear diary, but this will be the end of my first entry.

Signed (too formal…),

Truly yours (er…),

Love (ugh),

Miles (Edgeworth?)

xxx

SOME OF MILES' ATTEMPTS TO MAKE IT SEEM MORE LIKE A DIARY

I like totally saw this guy's black eyes –

Like, whoa man, his eyes were so amazing –

1 T0T/\LLY Tl-l0UGl-lT l-l3 \/\//\5 G0RG30U5 –

… I feel foolish.