Right after the publication of the last chapter, my friend's mom got cancer. She died sometime in December.

I had Speech and Debate tournaments every week for the last two months.

Speech and Debate season is over. Life is slowly slipping back to normal. If I had no excuse back then, I definitely have no excuse now.

I'll be doing things differently. Spending more time writing, dedicating more free time, no more procrastinating. Expect more of me.

I never give up on my stories. Promise...okay?

{Ema Skye

"So what is this, anyway?"

"This," gestured Kay widely with a kind of grand vindication, "is Furnivall Funds."

As Kay proceeded to collapse into the small seat, sipping tea without any of her mentor's decorum, Maya pulled the manila folder closer to her as she abandoned her instant noodles. "I think I've heard of it before…"

"It's a local firm," Ema replied, thoughts drawing to the gossip by the water cooler in the precinct. "A small bank that's really well known."

"It looks like the meditation shack at Kurain," Maya said bluntly, lifting a black-and-white screenshot from the folder and delicately pushing it toward them as if disgusted of the contamination. "Dark, damp, and lacking of basic human luxuries like electricity and running water."

"That happens to be what it's known for," Kay replied, leaning over to prod at another document. "Run of the mill exteriors…and service that could put a federal depository to shame. Service quality is so high, you'd be hard-pressed to find a local name that isn't in some way associated with Furnivall Funds. They make lump sum donations once every other year to some local public service that makes them virtually untouchable. Three years ago, it was the Precinct. Last year, it was the Prosecutor's Office."

"And yet," Ema breathed, holding up a Microsoft Excel 2024 spreadsheet, "its employees are poor and its employers even poorer."

"It takes in the bare minimum to pay off its mortgage," Kay confirmed. "And that means millions of its dollars just disappear—each year, every year."

"You think it's blackmail or bribery?" Maya's eyes were shining.

"I'd say that's the most likely conclusion, yes," she affirmed. "That's actually why I went with this project to start us off—first of all, the fact that it's so poor means it probably has poor security too. Second, chances are there's no underlying deep conspiracy."

"Chances have never been good with me," muttered Maya lowly; however, she grinned at Kay. "So, when do we start?"

"I'd say the best way to get practice is to go on these missions," Kay responded slowly as she fiddled with her pockets. "Even if you fail them, they give you a lot more experience than the training sessions. Besides, you guys progress quickly and seem have had a lot of prior experience."

"I'd still like to have had more experience…wait." Ema blinked rather owlishly. "When exactly are we planning to…um…invade these people?" She paused. "If you've already got a set plan, that is."

"We're a bit pressed for time, actually," Kay replied, checking her watch as if it planned their coming weeks and months. "Detective work seems to be at a low, which is a rarity...in addition, you both seem pretty competent at this point. How does a week sound?"

"A week?!"

Two different reactions. Maya raised an eyebrow, albeit wearing a slight frown that was half-covered and effectively dampened by a layer of ramen. Ema, meanwhile, choked on her tea, sputtering and gargling quietly in an effort to stop from spitting it out. Slamming the empty glass onto the table, she gaped, eyes bugging slightly. Kay smiled wryly at her theatrics.

"Are—you—insane?!"

Still gasping slightly, the bitter aftertaste of hot water in her mouth as she glanced up at Kay with a gasp. "First of all, detective work never stays at a low for long. Second of all. Do you have any idea how long a mission at the precinct takes? A week is—"

"—Going to have to be enough for us," Kay replied quickly before turning to the third representative. "What're your thoughts, Maya?"

A quick slurp and then the noodles were gone as the spirit medium spoke with a cheerily disappointed tone. "Aw man, I was really hoping to get through all hundred levels…"

There was a small pause, a ten-second mind-boggling stare in which Ema managed to alternate an incredulous stare between Kay and Maya and back before collecting her wits. Kay herself had the identical slightly unperturbed (albeit marginally more amused) expression on her own face, merely quirking an eyebrow as Maya looked up with her own shocked expression. "What?"

"Is that really the thing you're sad about missing out on?"

There was yet another pause. Maya broke it without hesitation or tact. "Yep!"

"…Anyway." Choosing to ignore her rather silly friend, Ema sighed. "I'm just not sure we'll have enough practice to finish this, especially since you, with all your training, haven't managed to get it done once either."

Kay tightened her lips. Ema got the impression that she was pressing down bad memories.

"We're ready, I'm sure," Kay replied. "We just need to rely completely on each other."

"We're doing great with that right now," Maya sighed, as if telling an overdone joke. As if sensing the awkward air that filled the room, she coughed before pushing away empty ramen. "Alright. So, Furnivall Funds…should we be visiting this place in person before we go for the actual mission?"

She proceeded to give a sudden start, remembering something rather suddenly. Her shoulders didn't sag, but they squared as if suddenly readying to carry a bigger burden. "Wait a second. You'd best brief Mia, huh?"

She didn't ask for an answer. Her eyes closed quickly, sliding shut, and she tugged the purple acolyte clothes away from herself as her frame grew to fit the new person she became.

Mia Fey's eyes opened slowly, a slightly lighter shade of brown than her sister's.

"…What is it?"

The odd resemblance between Maya and Mia reminded Ema oddly of herself and Lana. Shaking her head twice, she coughed.

"So, Mia, I'm…"

"Ema Skye. You're Lana's sister, right?" Mia smiled. It was warmer but less familiar that Lana's. "The last time I saw you, you and Maya really hit it off. Then again, you were only about six."

"What?! I don't remember Maya—"

"Oh, I assure you, she was there." Mia grinned widely at that, laughing openly.

"Mia?"

She turned to Kay, smile caught on her face. "Yes, Kay?"

"Wait. You know who I am?"

Mia's small smile seemed to convey every angle of the word 'of course.' "I never enter a courtroom without a case prepared."

Ema blinked, confused, before smiling as a rather ironic thought entered her mind. "But doesn't Mr. Wright usually BS his cases?"

"Wright's a special case," she replied rather shortly, albeit with a small smile on her face. "Mainly because his preparation is the fact that he has no preparation." She pulled a wry, amused yet slightly irked face, seemingly remembering some mishap or the other involving the ever infamous Phoenix Wright. "I assure you, he didn't get any of it from me."

Ema was about to protest when she noticed the slight wink the spirit gave them. Mia Fey was apparently not above the everyday phenomenon of sarcasm.

"Moving on—I take it I need information? Presumably over a new case?"

"Well…" Kay blinked. "I just think we could use your advice on a mission, perhaps?"

"…I see." There was a pause in time, a moment where no one said anything. Mia's piercing gaze swept from Ema to Kay, before she tilted her head and spoke.

"I'm not here to give you advice, Kay. Unfortunately, I'm afraid that you're on your own."

{Kay Faraday

Mia Fey became Maya Fey in a sweep of two seconds, a darting gaze to an oblivious sort of vague focus. The acolyte pulled her robes closer to her small form, looking up. "How'd it go?"

There was a slight grin that Kay didn't have the heart to crush—although she didn't even have the will to speak at all. Ema filled the silence for her, blankly blinking. "…She said we were on our own."

Smacking a palm to her forehead, Maya sighed. "What did you say to her?"

"I don't know," she replied numbly. "I think she was made 'cause we didn't have a case…" Looking up at Maya pleadingly, she shrugged. "D'ya think she's abandoning the entire project?"

"Um…" Biting her lip, Maya shrugged. "Well, one of the things Mia really feels strongly about—especially lately—is the fact that the dead belong in the spirit world and we belong in the real world. She likes to tell us that we're breaking a sort of really important boundary when we call on spirits, and we shouldn't do so unless we really really have to." Sighing, she stuffed a doughnut into her mouth. "You get what I'm saying?"

"I think," Ema answered, cutting in for her. "So, she's slightly angry because we didn't need her at that point…that means she hasn't given up on us, huh?"

"Hope not." Kay sighed. "She seems so nice…and relatively powerful…and we need her. D'ya really think she's still okay with us? She'll help us again after everything?"

"…That's what seems like is the most likely thing to happen, yes." Maya continued eating, stuffing a scone, a crepe, and a Chinese bun into her mouth while she laughed about 'multiculturalism.' "Mia forgives, and she's not exactly what one would call cruel; I think she'll be okay with us."

"I still needed advice, though…I don't know what I'm going to do at Furnivall." Collapsing wearily, Kay sighed. "I more than a little bit nervous. Do you honestly think we need more practice?"

"I think we're probably good—well, we'll survive at least—Maya, you just had breakfast!"

"There's always space for food!" Maya protested, clutching an arm protectively around a plate of syrup-slathered pancakes. "Besides, I just channeled someone!"

"Last I checked, channeling doesn't take energy," Ema snorted. Nevertheless, a small smile bloomed over her face. "Seriously, though, Kay. I'm kind of iffy on the fact that we're going to be starting so soon…but if you think we're good, I think we're probably okay. Like I said—at the very least, we'll survive and figure out what we've been doing wrong. And if we succeed, then all the better, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. I'm just a bit worried. It's been a long time since I've felt this good, I don't wanna get my hopes up—you know?"

"So…" Brows furrowing, Maya gulped down a mouthful. "Does that mean we're getting more practice or not? Because I really want to go through all the levels—for training, of course."

"You really do have a one track mind, don't you?" Sighing, Ema glanced at Kay. "I don't think so. If we really are trying to get there as quickly as possible—"

"Yeah, speaking of that, how do you define 'as quickly as possible?'"

"Try I'm hoping in a week or so…or sooner, if something crops up." Putting her fingers together, Kay shrugged. "That's not the point, though. We need to be ready at any time—immediately, as quick as that." She snapped her fingers for emphasis. "If you say we don't need that much more practice—"

"Some more wouldn't hurt," Ema muttered, crossing her arms. Kay diligently ignored her.

"—then I think that we should be okay to go at any time."

"I have my job as a detective, Kay," Ema reprimanded slightly. "And Maya has her job as a medium. If we have an appointment, whether from a customer or from court, we should take that into consideration."

"The Yatagarasu should come first, though." Kay's eyebrows furrowed. "I mean, the appointments for customers can be delayed or passed to other mediums, and the court and the Yatagarasu are fighting for the same thing—justice. But the Yatagarasu does it more effectively, without the confines of law."

"Yeah, I guess." Ema drew her arms further across her chest, tightening her grip on her own lungs. "But still, it's a paying job—I need to keep it in mind at least, yeah?"

"Mmn." Kay shrugged it off, signifying her grudging consent—or so she hoped. "Alright. So, if that's all—I really need to be going to my room. My dad still has some of his old papers on Furnivall. I'll see if I can't dredge something up."

"Hang on a sec." Maya spoke slowly, taking a gulp of water. "Should me and Ema help? Or…" She trailed off uncertainly.

"Maybe a bit more training?" Ema cut across abruptly as Kay turned to speak. Finding nothing wrong with the idea, the crow-girl nodded.

"Sure, why not? Careful, though; if something does come up during my research and we end up going it sooner rather than later, it's best that we're all ready to go."

"How can you be injured in a holographic simulation?!" Standing, Maya wiped her fingers on the seat. Kay and Ema simultaneously flinched—Ema at the state of uncleanliness, Kay at the rather embarrassing memory.

"It's just something about crashing into a wall—hey, stop that!" Despite her words, she grinned as both Ema and Maya began laughing slowly. "In my defense, I there was a gigantic green bookshelf so I thought there was still space to hide behind it! Also, there were about three people behind me—stop laughing!"

Finally allowing herself a giggle as her comrades fell into peals of laughter, Kay waved them off, still chuckling, as she stood. "I'm leaving now."

"Alright." Ema gathered herself, poking at Maya's side. "C'mon, Maya. Let's get to the basement."

As Kay turned away, she quirked an eyebrow at the two's retreating backs. Try as she might, she couldn't stop herself from sucking in her cheeks and pursing her lips in a decidedly tense expression as Ema leaned over to whisper in Maya's ear second before both turned a corner and were gone.

Shrugging, she chalked it up to coincidence and paranoia before turning her own corner and opening the door to the main office. Flinging the doors wide, she studied the dust thoroughly before crossing the room in quick steps and opening the window. Sunlight filtered in, touching the surfaces that hadn't been lighted for years.

"Hello, father."

{Maya Fey

"Again!"

Laughing rather viciously as she skipped, Maya exchanged a smile with Ema as the forensic detective swept to the computer and punched in the next number viciously. As she ran by, Maya held up her hand for a high-five, which she received with force.

"We finally passed that stupid level!"

"Mmhm." Humming noncommittally, Ema continued pressing buttons. "So, we started level twenty—what, yesterday? What's the final tally?"

"Twenty four hours and some amount of minutes, I don't know; I am not planning to waste one more second of brain power on that thing." Waving the neck of her water glass like the final deliverer of judgment, Maya spoke seriously. "Anyway, isn't now the best time to take a break?" Propping her hands behind her head whilst carefully avoiding spilling her water, Maya grinned. "Basking in the afterglow of our victory and all that?"

"Sounds great," Ema replied. "It's a lot like a saying we have in the precinct—'remission after mission.'" Giving a slight grin, Ema seemed on the verge of turning back into her cheerful, bubbly self before slumping back into her no-nonsense mode, shoulders sinking and frown sliding onto her face. "We have to continue, though, if we want to be prepared."

Looking up as she took a swig from a cup of water, Maya glanced at her friend. "You don't think we're prepared for Furnivall yet, do you?"

"Do you?" Gesturing at the screen, Ema shrugged. "We're barely at level 21. I think Kay's rushing us into these way too fast." Shaking her head and pulling away from the computer, she turned to the green hologram with her hands on her hips. "If we really are leaving in a week, there's no way we'll successfully pull this off without a hitch."

"Hey, don't say that. Nothing's impossible."

"I'm starting to think Kay is," Ema replied with an angry mutter. "She's refusing to sweat a single detail of our case. If we keep this up, it's not going to be the Yatagarasu anymore." Rolling her head backwards in a frustrated manner, she closed her eyes and sighed as she collapsed into a nearby spinny chair. "It's going to be Kay Faraday and two blind followers."

"Ema, it's not that bad, honestly, 'kay?" Shaking her head angrily, Maya sat on her own chair, propping her elbows onto her knees and watching Ema with a rather annoyed expression. "Sure, Kay's exerting her force now, but she kinda needs the security of being in control of her father's own mission. I'm sure it'll all pass soon…in a while or something, maybe."

"Will it?" Sighing, Ema continued spinning idly. "When, then? After how long? I don't think I can stand another second with this side of Kay Faraday."

"Mr. Edgeworth sees something in her," Maya sighed in reply. "I trust his judgment."

"So do I." Ema shrugged. "I just wish it wasn't so confusing to decipher. She seems innocent and nice enough…Mr. Edgeworth likes her…she's working for a good cause…If only I could just bring myself to like her too. Or if she could just drop the attitude."

"Yeah, you're both kinda stubborn, aren't you?"

"Were you trying to make that an understatement, or did that just happen?" Ema gave her the sideways view of a wry smile. "Seriously, though. She won't give up on her position…if I give up on mine it'll only make both of us angrier and make her keep up with her current habits that eventually drive us off the deep end."

"So in the end, no one wins anyway." Maya shook her head. "How—exactly—do you plan to solve this problem?!"

"Oh, I don't." Ema replied with a small grin. "I plan to let the problem fester like a boil until it explodes—and then, one way or another, it solves itself."

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"It means I'm going to let the tension grow until it explodes, and then we'll hash it out and see where it goes from there." Ema's voice grew short.

"So you mean you might leave the team if that happens?"

"Might," she answered nonchalantly. "Might even mean I'll make my own team. Might mean Kay lets go of the idea of the Yatagarasu entirely, although I highly doubt it given her…conviction." She continued working, fiddling with various materials on the computer to set it up for stage twenty-one. "Might mean we all get caught during a mission and thrown in jail, if that's where it boils over." She turned, giving a grand gesture or a shrug. "Who knows?"

Fighting down a distant sort of lax panic in her stomach, Maya closed her eyes. "When d'ya think it'll happen?"

"A month? A mission? A practice? Who knows?" Again with the shrug. Ema was about as clueless as Maya. "I honestly have no idea. I guess we'll have to see."

"So do you really believe it'll happen?"

"At this rate, yes, it'll happen, and soon." Ema's voice came short, now obviously conveying annoyance. "Can we practice now?"

"Sure thing." The spirit medium stood. "So, what's this stage like?"

The surroundings of the holographic green flickered into formation—that is to say, a solid green slab.

"I see…nothing." Sighing, Maya rose to tap on the green. Her hand met air, but it sunk straight through the wall, showing it was indeed meant to be solid. "So we've got this random green wall?"

"I think it's safe to assume that this is the obstacle we need to get through," sighed Ema. "Who came up with this obstacle course, anyway?"

"Well, in all likelihood, Furnivall's so poor that this may very well be their only form of protection." Chuckling, Maya trailed her fingers around the approximate location of where the wall would be. "Consider it practice?"

"Eh, why not." A small half smile curved Ema's mouth before she turned rather worriedly toward Maya. "Maya…Kay's just like us, with insecurities. And she's a really good person at heart, and she's been really nice to us…she has asked for our opinion…" She bit her lip, as if willing herself to take back all her hate. "She's been okay. I'm just kind of worried with the way things are going."

"She is too," Maya sighed. "But I know what you mean. We'll pull through, alright?"

"Yep." Ema pushed on the wall again, grinning when the simulation shook slightly. "And if not, we've got our backup jobs, one scary prosecutor, and on influential ex-attorney watching our backs and protecting our honors, right?"

{Ema Skye

"NOOOOOO!"

Chuckling at Maya's theatrics but scowling in slight irritation nevertheless, Ema nodded sympathetically. "I know! So close!"

Fingertips an inch away from the objective while Maya distracted the guards, the ringing of Ema's cell phone had jolted her hand, causing it to fly back and alert a nearby guard of her presence, resulting in their failure. Nodding along with Maya in disappointment, she nevertheless strode to a corner of the basement. "Hang on, I gotta pick this up, okay?"

The Steel Samurai ringtone blasted into her ears—she'd kept it for nostalgic reasons in Europe and never found the time to change it once she got to the states. It was peppered intermittently, however, with small beeps—it marked the call as urgent. Unfortunately, that also meant that it was from the one and only Klavier Gavin.

"What is it, fop? I'm kinda busy right now."

"Busy?" The voice had a distinct German accent, but was nevertheless amused and more than slightly confused. "Why, Fraulein Detektiv, am I mistaken, or did you take today off? You should not be busy today."

"I took today off because Maya was coming into town and I wanted to see her and Mr. Wright," she replied quickly, exchanging a glance with the spirit medium at the mention of her name. It was a half-truth, anyway. Hopefully the prosecutor would reach the unspoken conclusion that wasn't technically true. "So…"

"I understand. She will not be there for long, so you're spending time with her, ja?" She could practically hear his grin through the phone. "In addition, you detest speaking to me." The cheery tone lasted seconds more before it dropped, his voice becoming serious. "However, this is important. Bear with me; it won't take long."

"I'm all ears for now."

"Remember the Cadaverini case?"

"Which one?" Ema arched one eyebrow. "There are plenty. The various lawsuits against that female Tender Lender's Cadaverini have all been dropped (rather mysteriously, might I add, though a certain lazy fop won't look into it), Bruto Cadaverini has always been untouchable, and the mob's committed so many murders I don't even want to think about it—"

"The one involving the death of Bruto Cadaverini's cousin. The only one we have real dirt on." Klavier scoffed. "Bruto himself is like the law banning underage drinking. Everybody knows it exists and who's at fault, but everyone continues to let it slide anyway."

Ema tensed, resisting the urge to laugh at her employer's final crack. A messy affair involving one of Bruce Cadaverini's direct cousins murdering his own brother, Ema'd been on the case herself, and quite a lot of sleepless nights had been fought off with caffeine and Snackoos before the case had closed with a horrifying failure. In retrospect, the case had only made it to court in the first place because of the falling out the homicidal cousin had had with the head of the Cadaverini clan—when the two forgave each other before the final day in court, the evidence, witnesses, and prosecutor had dropped like flies.

"What is it?"

"One of the witnesses—one of the scorned mob members—has come back to speak to us." There was a pause. "I know what you are thinking, fraulein. The mob and he have had a falling out, so I am going to continue on the assumption that this is real information."

"So what does this have to do with me?"

"Assuming the mob does not figure out what is happening and strike a deal with him before he is called in for questioning, I'd like you to assist me in the questioning process. He's coming whenever Bruto Cadaverini's back is turned, so I want you to be alert at all times of day and night for the rest of the week. You know how the mob is when they say 'whenever available.'"

Ema gave a humorless laugh. "Ten bucks he turns up sometime between twelve o'clock midnight and eight o'clock in the morning."

"I think late night hours are more likely. You're on." The prosecutor gave a rather unsightly snort. "At any rate, keep your schedule relatively loose this week, okay?"

Automatically, she stiffened nervously and glanced at her surroundings, pulling herself into the present with the obligations the Yatagarasu presented her—the Furnivall mission. "Um…there's another urgent thing that could…potentially…fall sometime this week?"

"Potentially?" Klavier's voice was sharp. "You do not have a set plan for this 'thing,' and yet this is urgent but still does not involve work?"

Chewing on her lip, Ema attempted to keep her mouth in motion without the use of Snackoos—a newly found nervous tic. "Fop, my personal life is none of your business." Trying to take a normal turn, she sighed in what she hoped came through the speakerphone as annoyance. "Honestly. Chances are I'll be okay if the guy comes at a decent time."

"The mafia is never good at settling things at decent times, I just told you." The smooth-talking prosecutor rambled on, grating on Ema's nerves as it drew more and more curious glances from Maya. "What is it you are planning, Ema?"

"Meeting with Maya," she said at random, wincing at the poor excuse she realized too-late had already been used.

"Aren't you visiting her today?"

"She's staying at a hotel sort of nearby. She's in the city in the first place for her channeling work; she wants to meet again when she's free. Since her customer also hasn't set a good time, she's kind of iffy." Applauding herself mentally, Ema nodded grudgingly as Maya laughed silently, nearing Ema to listen in on the conversation.

"…As you say, Fraulein." The prosecutor's voice was still skeptical. "Just to make sure you aren't selling precinct secrets," he added with just a touch of amusement, "Can I speak to Maya?"

Handing over the phone accordingly, Ema nodded at Maya, who grinned and winked.

"Hi. Klavier Gavin, right? I've heard about you." There was a pause. "We don't hand out our customer's information at Kurain. It's kind of a classified thing." The sound of Klavier's odd inflection over the phone—Ema assumed it was the fact that English was his second language. "Yeah, we usually don't leave the village. But seeing as I'm now the highest medium at Kurain who isn't the Master, if circumstances prevent customers from going themselves, I'm the one that goes on the move to help." Klavier's voice sounded like a series of blips over the phone. Ema fought the urge to laugh as Maya's voice took on a laughing tone. "No, I don't have ties with the Mafia and I'm not asking Ema for secrets. Go ask Mr. Edgeworth or Nick or Franziska or something—what? No, I don't have a problem with Franny's first name, why—" Maya gave a started laugh, mingling with Klavier's undertone. "Oh. Nope, not scared…not too scared. What do you mean? No. Of course not. Bye, Prosecutor Gavin." The phone closed, and Maya held it out expectantly to Ema's raised eyebrows. "What?"

"…You get along surprisingly well with the fop."

"Eh, he's not that bad." Maya shrugged. "A little flashy, though. And I swear he adds in gratuitous German on purpose, to give himself more 'foreign charm—'" She inserted air quotes. "—but other than that, he seems like a normal rock star-prosecutor hybrid with an understandably large air guitar complex." As Ema swiped her phone, Maya smiled. "Why do you ask?"

"The fop's just a stupid git." Ema winced at her insert of the English phrase, having spent a majority of her time in Europe alternating between the UK and France. She was still working on re-Americanizing her language. "I don't see how anyone can like him straight off the bat, what with his ego and his German—what?!" She paused in her ticking off of Klavier's traits on her fingers to glare at Maya's laughing.

"Oh, nothing." The spirit medium straightened. "So, let's get back to figuring out this level!"

"Yeah. Level twenty-one, here we go again," the detective muttered, striding over. In two fluid motions, she shut off her phone and slid it into her pocket. "And heaven help any sort of fop who gets in my way, glimmerous or not."

{Kay Faraday

Books lay scattered around her, opened to various pages, all containing various information and speculation on Furnivall Funds. The problem, Kay was soon beginning to realize, was sorting through which information was actually true…and which information was provided courtesy of one Calisto Yew.

"The handwriting looks feminine…but…"

Tossing the book aside, Kay rubbed her head deeper into her hands, groaning. "Gods, what am I supposed to do?!"

Conflicting reports from different members drew her attention to manuscript after manuscript. One hand twiddling idly with the dial of the radio beside her, Kay flipped a page of the book as she scanned with her eyes narrowed. It showed a detailed drawing of the front lobby, citing various locations of potential openings to secret compartments and how they'd been investigated in the short time the original three had allotted to the bank.

"I don't—understand—"

Had she chosen the wrong mission for her friends? According to the final briefings, Furnivall Funds had something to hide and nowhere to hide it, all potential locations to hide anything explored except for the most obvious (and therefore least likely) of places. The original three had scoured the place well, and found nothing. They'd snuck in at night and searched, unfortunately finding nothing whatsoever. The only conclusion they'd came to was that the secret was either completely intangible (done by hand, which is always difficult when it comes to large transfers of money) or it was simply hidden too well for the well-trained Yatagarasu eye.

"Two safes were found in the main office—one with rather expensive gold bars and one with a pair of diaries. The gold bars appeared to be simply stored for safe keeping and, while large and expensive, were not enough to compensate for the lost money. One of the diaries hadn't even been started and the other had exactly one entry simply detailing the course of the main boss's day. It was easily assumed that the empty one was to be a continuation of the first once that one was completed, seeing as the two were identical."

Reading aloud, Kay followed her finger across the words before she threw the book across the room with a groan. "There's no information here!"

Continuing to mess with the dial, she listened to bursts of words, figuring that a break would be healthy for her overstressed mind, closing her eyes and repeating them as they came. It was a trick her father had taught her to help her improve her memory.

Static lingered in her ears as she spoke, struggling to make up and remember the words as they piled up second by second. She paused on certain channels that caught her interest before switching again rapidly.

"FM Radio...19.203 Happy Music for the Soul…Ultrasound that stops…Injection that creates a special genome…Homicide in Pleasantville…Thank you for watching Car Talk…'Winals' were known as days in Ancient Mayan…Furni—Furnivall?!"

Turning the knob sharply in shock, Kay cursed as she twiddled the knob back, searching for the channel again. Switching to the volume and cranking it up to static pitch, she winced yet again as she listened.

"—once again declined comment when we tracked him down to his latest…er…avenue."

The reporter's voice was rather sarcastic and slightly pitying before her counterpart cut her off. "Well, Karen, what do you think about this elusive owner?"

"I think I'm surprised at how badly off he is," came the answer. "When you're the owner of what should be a very successful business, it's hard to admit that you're homeless, but what can a person do?"

"Yes, and since Furnivall isn't releasing its bank reports, one starts to imagine why it isn't well off. Gambling, drug addictions, illegitimate children—"

The radio talk show closed with a click as Kay glared at the device rather angrily. She didn't have time to listen to audience speculation; however, the fact that the owner of Furnivall Funds was presumably homeless itched at the edge of her consciousness. If the person in the highest rank of the conspiracy was homeless, there were only a couple of options.

"A higher up is weaning off money for his own benefit," sighed Kay, quoting again from another one of the original Yatagarasu's journal before moving onto her own contemplation. "But if the highest up has no knowledge of this, then how is it possible? And if the highest up does know about it…then why is he not also doing the same thing for his benefit?" She paused again. "And if the boss knows about it but hasn't done anything to stop it, then why is he still the boss?!"

She flipped through the books again, blinking curiously through the pages before her eyes caught on to a single image sketched onto the back cover of the latest journal entry. Since it wasn't on a page, it couldn't be ripped out. Tea-stained and faintly sketched in pencil before crudely outlined in thin pen, Kay nearly squinted to glare at it. A clear depiction finally came into focus.

A sketched picture of a normal clock with slanted, handwritten numbers and slightly curving hands. The minute hand pointed sharply at the twelve, the second hand doing the same. The hour hand, however, was barely visible; as Kay squinted, she realized that it had not been outlined in the same pen, left in pencil. It, too, pointed at twelve. However, it was drawn purposely lightly, as if trying not to be seen but to exist nevertheless.

She tilted her head at it, wondering quietly about its meaning before shrugging and shutting the book. Either way, it meant one thing.

It was time to look in her father's personal archives.

Kay absolutely positively hated her father's archives because they contained nothing but speculation. What's more, they contained speculation that was drawn only by Byrne Faraday himself; Detective Badd and Attorney Yew had had no say whatsoever. In fact, now that Kay thought about it, they probably didn't even know it existed.

The archives themselves were hidden away, isolated on one bookshelf in the corner of her father's rather large study and alphabetized by letter. As Kay turned to search through them, a scowl grew even larger on her face at the number of cases potentially on file. So many things to go through that may or may not exist.

"F for Furnivall."

Pulling out the appropriate book, she scanned through it quickly, arching an eyebrow at various crossed-out pieces of information and ludicrous-not-so-ludicrous schemes. Lines were dran haphazardly, connecting pieces of information to others with double bonds, single bonds, and red pen. She squinted to follow it all.

"Pointless, kinda sketchy, not reliable because it's a source from Yew, all crossed out—huh?"

A mirror image of the clock on the back cover of her other book was situated in bold sharpie marker on the last page of this book, the hour hand still faintly outlined. An arrow pointed straight from the page before it straight to the clock, and from the clock to a single label—'Notebook 17' scrawled in spindly script.

The book slammed shut with force, Kay shoving it back into the bookshelf at an awkward angle as she turned and leaned against the shelf, eyes widening.

Her father's notebooks were sorted in numerical order, from most important to least important. There were hundreds, perhaps thousands, of notebooks in the archives. Notebook seventeen was early on, a small number, brown leather facing her direction on the first shelf in front of the door as soon as she opened it.

Notebook seventeen meant an important case. And Furnivall Funds led straight to notebook seventeen.

{Maya Fey

"Tomorrow?!"

Maya's mouth fell open, while Ema's clenched shut. Both pairs of eyes glared at Kay as she cringed slightly.

"Look, it's just—it's super, duper, uber important. There are so many things cropping up with Furnivall at the very center, the first link in the chain. And—to be honest, we're kinda running out of time."

"There's the slight possibility I'm not going to be able to make it—" Ema tried to cut in, but Kay simply turned and shrugged, not letting her finish her sentence.

"Then choose what your priorities are. I'm not going to kick you off the team if you don't put it first," she added with a wry smile at the detective's slightly worried expression. "I know you're relatively new to this and your job's coming first. But I'm seriously hoping you'll stick with us…"

"Ah—well—I guess I'll see what I can do." The girl grumbled, looking away, eye twitching as she tried to hide her reluctance to let them down. "See you later?" She offered a wry smile.

"Mmhm." Watching warily as Ema slammed the door to her car, Kay then turned to Maya. "What about you?" She nudged her with a wink. "D'ya think that 'out of Village medium request' can wait until after Furnivall?"

"Hm." Maya paused a bit before splitting her face in the best grin she could manage on short notice. "Um. Seeing as it doesn't actually exist…I think I could manage."

"Alright. Now that Ema's decided she's gonna stay at home instead of with us because of preparation for Klavier Gavin's case, you'll be rooming by yourself in the old room, right?"

"Mmhm." Maya shrugged. "I'll be fine." She waved her hand. "If you think we're leaving tomorrow, you should go do some research."

The girl gave an affirmative nod, and then Maya was alone with a peel of rubber at her feet and the echoing footsteps and voice of Kay circling her head.

She spent the late afternoon hours, all the way until eleven at night, wandering through the halls as she explored with a curiosity energetic enough to fuel a thousand cities. Bouncing from room to room, she dug through the house with a practiced spring in her step. Not only was she actually curious, but desperation drove her movements furiously until she finally found her way into a room full of bookshelves and folders. With a small cry of excitement, she snatched off the nearest book—

Encyclopedia Brittanica. Just perfect.

Sliding the book on top of a row of others, horizontally and not quite as neatly as before, she dove out of the room and continued searching. A variety of rooms later (including an odd experience in a room devoid of furniture minus a wardrobe that sadly upon closer inspection didn't contain Narnia), she found yet another tome filled room. This time, the shelves lined walls in various up-and-down waves to create more space for color-backed notebooks of questionable material (and therefore value). One wall was simply a large pane of glass cloaked in red material revealing the landscape outside. There were certain cabinets the style of which Maya had seen before used to hold antique porcelain tea sets in Kurain, crystal-paned with intricately carved wood, which instead held leather or hard-backed journals of questionably more importance. The shelves were crammed neatly, an occasional haphazard book here and there marking a childish touch. Most of the books were, however, unmoved, dusty and creating a dark red-green-brown montage in front of her eyes.

She grabbed the first book she could find, flipping with narrowed eyes to the pages—and yes, three types of handwriting filled the lines. The neat, spidery straight lines of Byrne Faraday, the flowing cursive of Calisto Yew, the smudged and smeared print of Tyrell Badd—they were all there, and Maya almost reveled in her victory until she caught sight of a whip of black embedding a flash of gold.

Kay Faraday was still in her own archives room.

In hindsight, Maya should have realized that it would have happened; she had tried to direct her to it, after all. However, she'd been betting that all the resources would have at least been spread over a larger number of places; to stack every source in the same area was sheer lunacy.

Lunacy that the Faradays, apparently, wore well.

Maya bolted, searching through the house in vain as the last vestiges of sunlight left the rather roomy mansion. She hoped vainly that another resource room was around, that it would contain some information of some sort that could help her clear up some of her confusion.

No such luck.

"Hello, you've reached—"

"Hi, you've reached—!"

"Hello—"

"Hi—"

"Hey—"

Jumping upright with a started noise at the back of her throat, Maya glanced wildly at Kay from her perch atop her bed. Cellphone clasped tightly in her hand, her finger itching between the two buttons on the sides of the phone that would let her call the two people she had called last, she squeaked. "Gosh, Kay, don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I'm sorry; didn't know you were…calling people?" She raised one eyebrow; Maya shoved her phone under a pillow and spoke quickly.

"I was just fiddling around. So what is it, Kay?"

"…Just checking to see if you were okay." She shrugged and left, casting a raised eyebrow and a glance at the phone to Maya and back to the phone. "Alright. You should get some sleep." She leaned forward to pat her shoulder. "See ya tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Mmhm." She nodded vigorously, sighing in relief as Kay left with one last smirk. Collapsing backward, the thin shine of clear sheets covered her vision for a second before she flipped, languidly slipping her hand underneath the pillow to grasp at her phone by the strap once again.

The two buttons clicked in unison, as if in competition to see who would win. The first did, Phoenix Wright's voice ringing through the room.

"Hello, this is Phoenix Wright. If you have to talk to me, please leave a message after the beep…oh, and no hate mail."

The last was spoken with a small chuckle, before a small dial tone permeated the silence. Immediately, Maya pressed the next button, so a message of white sound wouldn't end up on her old friend's message machine.

"Hi, this is Pearl Fey, the Master of Kurain. If you have a channeling request, please call our main hotline. If it's a question about the village in general, please call the public line. Otherwise, you're free to leave a message!"

She blinked skeptically, ending the call with a sigh as she collapsed again.

"I need help," she mutters to the empty room. She hears herself, echoing off the walls, an unspoken continuation of her unspoken question.

"Hello, this is Phoenix Wright."

She must have pressed the button again. Weird how she'd done it unconsciously.

"Um, this is Maya Fey, right?"

Sitting upright, Maya reached for the phone that was rapidly sinking into the covers with a sort of desperation only bred from panic. Feeling the ridges dig into her palm, she gripped it tightly as it blared on.

"Maya? Are you there?!"

Silence. Maya felt something rise up in her throat—the beginnings of something that even she couldn't figure out.

"Maya?"

A small noise came from her throat, halfway between a word and an animal growl. Her fingers tapped frantically across the keypad, numbers flashing across the screen frantically.

"Is everything—"

The voice cut off abruptly and Maya gave a small, shaky breath—of relief or despair, she couldn't quite tell.

"What am I going to do?" She asked herself the question slowly, wondering idly whether or not even she knew what she was talking about. Unfortunately, she could vaguely guess. The problem nagged at her subconsciousness, begging to be answered and keeping her quite antsy, a clear indication it would continue to do so until she did adequately answer it.

If she didn't even know her own place and everyone she thought could tell her no longer could, how could she trust herself to choose a good position even for herself?

Collapsing backwards, swimming in her own uncertainty, she glared at her phone, debating whether to call or not. For ten seconds, she thumbed the button incessantly before throwing it down.

No. She wouldn't ask someone else what to do with herself. It was her own story, after all. She just didn't know how to finish it. And if she didn't deserve the privilege, no one did.

Of course, the fact that she didn't deserve that privilege either kind of complicated her viewpoint. She'd have to decide for herself or let someone decide for her. She wasn't willing to do either. And doing nothing was the equivalent of choosing the Yatagarasu's path.

So that left her, desperate and more than a bit confused, with her fingers clinging to her last two lifelines. Only Pearl and Phoenix left—and she could no longer felt the same belief in their opinions she once had.

"It's up to me now," she sighed, leaning back and thinking contemplatively.

At this point, she really had three options—go back to Kurain, stay with the Yatagarasu and risk her own reputation and that of the villages, or simply run away from everything.

The last was absolutely out of the question; she could no more lose what little she had left than she could kill herself. Her two remaining options both filled her no longer with any happiness or energy, simply a dull pit of obligation. Something she had to do, something painful, something hard.

Of course, she wasn't the only one left living out of duty.

Nevertheless, she lifted her head slightly, considering slowly. Kurain meant safety, yes—and bland normality, and above all, defeat. The Yatagarasu, meanwhile, was danger and possible adventure and risk. And friends.

But the thing the Yatagarasu offered that was most enticing, most interesting, was a chance, no matter how small, at purpose. At a reason.

She nodded to herself slowly, considering the phone still half-buried and blended in the violet bed sheets. Finally, she picked it up and pressed the button on the side.

"Hi, this is Pearl Fey!"

"Pearls." She nodded, and smiled at the answering voice. "Yeah, I'm good. I just wanted to ask you if you could do me a favor."

Yeah, um, the ending I just churned out as fast as I possibly could. So bad quality. Derp.

Next chapter is Furnivall. I'm thinking I'll be alternating preparation-preparation-mission all the way until the murder from now on.

I'm considering starting another multi-chapter and alternating updating them. If that's the case, things'll go a little slower. Nothing's certain yet, but I think it's very likely that will happen.