February 11, 2019 7:59 PM

Lordly Tailor

Main Exhibit Hall

"Hmm..."

The blonde-bunned curator leaned against a marble column, peering over the rim of the book she was reading to watch the visitors file out of Lordly Tailor, one by one.

An antique clock chimed closing time. The woman set her book on a nearby countertop and mumbled to herself, "That time already? Looks like I'd better start locking up."

As she moved away from the column and toward the exit doors, she heard the delicate click of high-heeled footsteps approaching her from behind.

She spun around and instinctively bowed her head with the politeness of a true hostess, without looking the person whom she assumed to be a lately-arrived guest in the eyes. "We appreciate your patronage, but Lordly Tailor is now closed. Please join us again tomo-"

"Adrian Andrews," the visitor interrupted, "it's me."

"...Oh!" Immediately recognizing the voice, Adrian lit up with delight even before she even finished straightening up to see the familiar face. "Miss von Karma! It's... It's been a long time!"

"Yes," Franziska answered tersely. "...It seems you're doing fairly well for yourself."

Adrian smiled warmly in response, but then quickly grew anxious as to how she should continue the conversation. "Umm... So... Have you come to shop? Or to see the exhibit?"

"The exhibit?" Franziska inquired, glancing around the room.

"Oh, you're just in time to see it!" Adrian began to explain. "The truck's coming to ship it back to its home in just a couple of days. The exhibition was actually scheduled to be over quite a while ago, but this one piece garnered a lot of publicity after its attempted theft last October, so the showroom's been kept open by popular demand."

"Would you be referring to the piece over there?" Franziska motioned across the room, toward a tidy display case beneath a decorative banner featuring the exhibit name, Treasures of Kurain. The sole item atop its highest shelf was a fragile-looking purple and pink vase inscribed with the letters A-M-I.

"That's the one!" Adrian answered cheerily.

"It looks familiar," she observed. But, in comparison with the famous pottery she had observed as a child at various museums in Germany, this item didn't quite look to Franziska like high art. "What is it, exactly? A valuable artifact?"

"Well..." Adrian weighed her chances of convincing the prosecutor that the urn was as priceless as she'd tried to polish it up to look. She decided that the odds weren't in her favor. "...No. Actually, in terms of money, it's nearly worthless. It's a sacred urn belonging to a family of spirit mediums. Its value is mostly sentimental, I guess you could say."

"Huh." Franziska appeared less than impressed. "I wonder how it is that so many people could be so interested in a thing like that."

"I...I really don't think it's too hard to understand," Adrian replied. "It's something a lot of people can relate to. Miss von Karma, surely even you have an item from your past that means a lot to you."

"..." Franziska's fingers lightly stroked the leather of the whip that dangled at her left side. "...I do not. Sentimentality is an impediment to perfection."

"I see..." the other woman responded, smiling because the prosecutor's subtle action had not gone unnoticed. "...Oh!" She suddenly clasped her hands together in front of her. "Before I forget..."

"What is it, Adrian Andrews?"

"I never got the chance," she said sincerely, "to properly thank you."

"Thank me? For what?"

"For your help in the case last year. And also...for keeping in contact with me."

"Yes, well... You needed it. That is why I returned to check on you today. But you can't always be relying on someone like me to be around to help you. You'll have to start learning how to take care of yourself."

"I know... Being in charge of this exhibit alone has given me a lot of experience, but I'm still..." She trailed off, her eyes cast downward.

"The kind of experience you need is far more physical in nature. When adversity strikes," – Franziska cracked her whip loudly against the tile floor to emphasize her point – "you must strike back."

"Wow... Well, maybe if I had a weapon like that, I could be a lot more confident!"

"..." Taking offense to that statement but determined to maintain her dignity, Franziska's expression grew stern. "I'll have you know that it's not the whip that makes the woman." With dexterous grace, Franziska gave the whip another loud crack before catching it in a perfect coil. "It's most certainly the other way around."

She then elegantly extended the hand that held the whip toward the woman who had been watching in awe.

"Well?" Franziska prompted.

"...Eh?"

"What are you waiting for, Adrian Andrews?" She pushed the whip closer to her. "Try it yourself."

Adrian jumped in shock. "M-me? You can't be serious, Miss von Karma!

"I am absolutely serious," Franziska replied, and her face matched her words. "You've said you wish to gain the experience to be more confident, have you not? This will be lesson number one."

"Ah..." Adrian's eyes darted nervously between the woman's daunting weapon and the woman's piercing gaze – a weapon in itself – and she could scarcely believe the words that were about to come out of her mouth. "I guess... Since all the other visitors are gone... I could give it a try..."

The precious item was transferred into Adrian's hesitant hands. It was then that she realized she had no idea how even to hold such a thing, much less to use it. She looked up at Franziska anxiously.

"Grip the handle tightly," came the prosecutor's first instructions.

Adrian obeyed.

"That's too stiff."

She relaxed her grip.

"That's not tight enough."

Adrian winced at her own apparent incompetence, and tried her best to readjust her hand once more. "Is this all right, Miss von Karma?"

"That will do. Now, do not let those fingers slip."

Stricken by Franziska's emphatic warning, Adrian didn't dare move a muscle.

"When you swing, instead concentrate your energy in the wrist," Franziska advised her. "Your grip must remain firm, but your wrist must follow through with the motion of the whip."

"Er... Like this?" Aiming at nothing in particular, Adrian lurched forward as if she were throwing a baseball. The end of the whip merely flailed about and fell limp on the floor without a crack.

"No, no!" Franziska scolded, snatching the whip back from the other woman. "Your swing needs much more force behind it. Allow me to demonstrate."

Within the blink of an eye, the leathery cord lashed backward and leapt forward again – straight toward an unintended target. A deafening noise rang through the room, but it wasn't the crisp sound of a well-executed midair crack. Rather, it was the clattering crash of a pile of purple-and-pink sentimental value.

Slowly becoming conscious of what had just happened, Franziska's eyes widened, her hand trembled, and she couldn't bring herself to utter a single sound.

Adrian was the first to break the silence...with an unexpected bout of laughter

Franziska's head snapped in the direction of the outburst with a deathly serious glare. The laughter mortified and irritated her. Her fingers tightened their grip around the handle of her whip, but she couldn't bring herself to raise it against the giggling woman in black.

"Wh-what sort of foolish fool could foolishly fool herself into thinking something is funny at a time like this!?" she spat from between clenched teeth as she stormed toward the shattered mess.

"I'm...I'm..." Adrian stammered between giggles, following closely behind the prosecutor with quick, short steps. "I'm really sorry, Miss von Karma."

"Anyone who dares to make a joke out of a von Karma will be sorry."

"No, that's not it! It's just that... You know, just a few months ago... I..." Adrian had finally curbed her laughter, but a beaming smile remained on her face. "...It seems like we have more in common than I thought."

Franziska paid little mind to the woman's words as she stood crossly over the scene of the ceramic crime, contemplating where to start cleaning up the remains. Casting down her weapon, she knelt before the pieces.

"Umm..." Adrian quickly knelt down beside her. "Here. I can help you fix it."

"Don't be ridiculous," the prosecutor retorted, evidently flustered but trying with all her might to regain her composure. "A von Karma is perfect in every way. A simple problem like this shouldn't be difficult for me to fix by myself."

After watching obediently for a few moments, Adrian had to stifle another giggle as Franziska awkwardly attempted to force the large purple shards together to spell A-I-M.

If she read the letters like that, Adrian thought, it makes sense for her to have taken aim at it. But...

She silently reached forward and switched the pieces back to A-M-I.

Franziska narrowed her eyes at the woman. "I knew that, Adrian Andrews."

. . . . . . . . . .

"...Wow! Once again, it's good as new!"

"Again?" Franziska repeated suspiciously.

"Ah... Nevermind," Adrian answered. "It's nothing."

The two women stood back to admire their handiwork. A-M-I, the urn properly read.

"..." A brief pause, before Franziska turned to her accomplice with an intense expression. "Adrian Andrews. You must realize that it was necessary for me to use a proper target to demonstrate my form."

"Huh..." Adrian looked down at the prosecutor's whip, then back up to catch a flicker in the prosecutor's eye which told her she'd better play along. "Oh...! Right, of course!"

"You'd do well to remember the technique I used and continue to practice on your own." Franziska disguised her embarrassed blush with a confident smirk.

"...And that reminds me," she added. "Should you ever meet again with Phoenix Wright... make sure to show him what you learned."

After they had exchanged nods, Franziska hastily exited. Adrian stood alone in the exhibit hall - and smiled to herself.

A von Karma, she had learned, was not quite perfect in every way. But maybe that was the thing she admired most about her.