I don't know what I'm doing.

Trucy’s life has changed drastically too many times.  Is this going to be unwelcomed? He really, really hopes not.  The adoptive daughter of his long time friend, boyfriend… And hopefully fiancé? 

His sister advised him otherwise, berating him for being so worried.

“What sort of fool are you to think Trucy Wright wouldn’t accept you into her family?! Are you so dense as to not already have noticed how much she cares for you?!” She slaps at his arm. Not hard, of course. “If that fool, Phoenix Wright, declines you than he’s a bigger fool than I thought!”

“Are you losing your touch, Franziska? You know we’re talking about Trucy.”

She tuts, wagging her finger in that von Karma way. (She’s been determined to make it hers, and hers alone. Her father’s actions have no place in the present, that includes her gestures.)

“I have not forgotten, little brother, it is simply that I know my niece to not be so dense. She’s smarter than Phoenix Wright could dream to be, and that’s it on that.” 

"Pfft.” He stifles a laugh. “While I can't say I entirely disagree, is this how the great Franziska VonKarma admits she lost to an idiot?"

"Hmph. Least I haven’t lost my dignity by choosing to marry a fool. Give him some brain cells, will you, brother dear?" She smiles coyly at him and nudges his arm. "That is, if you have any to spare."

“Ha ha, very funny Miss von Karma.” He nudges back, before letting out a sigh. He’s still… anxious.

So a quiet hand on the shoulder reminds him to “relax, don’t tense up. The fool is madly in love with you, and the child sees you as family. You are fine.”

The power of gestures, huh? "I'll do my best, thanks, Franziska." He smiles. 

So why was his gut now sinking into his shoes?

At this rate, he might have to find a shovel.

He stood out in front of the Wright Anything Agency’s office, scared to knock.

And what if Wright was home?! He forgot about that. If he was home then a surprise proposal wasn’t really attainable, and he still didn’t have the ring (not to say he didn’t have a few he bought to give him.) He wanted one that suited Wright, but he has never really been good when it came to aesthetics… Maybe Trucy would know that better but first, he had to get her permission.

Which leads back to...

“Heya Mr. Edgeworth— Daddy’s not home right now but if you wanna leave the gifts on the sofa, I’m sure he’d appreciate it~,” Trucy stands at the door frame (when did the door even open?!), rocking on her feet.

“W-Why so formal, Miss Wright?” Did he get kicked out of the family or something — ghk— was he even part of the family?! What’s with the ‘Miss Wright’?! Weird natural reflexes?! 

“Hehe, nah, wanted to see how it felt to say it; felt wrong, to be honest. How’ve you been, Uncle Miles~. Also never, ever call me Miss Wright again!” She beamed. “...A...Ah right.. Apologies, Trucy you caught me off guard…” 

“Heh, it’s ok, so long as you’re alright~,” she moves to let him in and he steps forward.

“A teddy bear and chocolates, huh? How cheesy… Did daddy forget your anniversary again?!” her mouth is agape, her hand to her mouth.

 Heh, just like Pearls…

“Ah. No actually… Trucy, these are for you.” “Huh?! Well, I know for sure it’s not my birthday… what’s the occasion?” 

“Uh… I… I’ve been thinking about proposing-” “!!! Aaaaah!!!” she near screams, which causes Apollo to come fumbling in with a broom,

“Who’s there?! Don’t you touch her-!!” He’s ready to strike when he sees—

Oh shit. “A..Ah… hello, Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth! I uh—”

“...Pfft”  Miles looks away, trying to use the bear to hide his laugh, as Apollo’s face goes bright red.

“Polly Polly! Uncle Miles is going to propose to daddy!”

“H-Huh?” You mean they weren’t already married?? “O-Oh.. Congrats, Mr Edgeworth.”

“Well not quite yet… I still have to get a ring and—”

“Oh, I’ll help you with that!” 

“Yes, and—” “Ooooh, we get to plan a wedding, isn’t this great, Polly!!”

“O...Oh yeah.” Apollo stammers, lost between looking at Trucy and looking at Mr. Edgeworth, who clearly still has something to say.

“Trucy, dear, I know you’re excited—” “Heck yeah, I am!” 

“—and while it may be redundant to ask considering your reaction I—” he pauses, expecting to be interrupted but she’s looking at him with those bright, sparkling blue eyes of hers.

“I…. wanted to ask for your permission…. I want to ask for your father’s hand in marriage… may I marry your father?” She grins, and gives her now former uncle a big nod, “Of course, Uncle Miles.”

“Thank you,” he smiles back. “You can still have these if you want, Trucy, they’re for you.” 

“Woooah, thanks! Here, Polly, why don’t you take some of these chocolates, the blue one is mine though!” And she’ll pass him the box of chocolates, and then take the blue box from Miles.

Carefully pulling the bow off, and gently peeling the paper (she can use it for something later, she bets!) She looks at the packaging, before letting out a squeal.

“YOOOOOO! You got me something that shoots fire?!” She excitedly rips into the box, unable to contain herself now.

“You got her what—” Apollo says, with a chocolate in his mouth. It’s unfortunate there’s no one he trusts with his eulogy.

Strike that, he has Callie. “Don’t tell your father.” Miles laughs a little, happy he got her something she would like.

"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, papa!!" 

“P..papa…” “Well, I’ve called Daddy ‘daddy’ once I got comfortable doing so, so I can’t call you that. I figured you wouldn’t make a bad papa~,” she beams, grabbing the instructions on working this thing. 

Ah, speaking of Wright...

"Where did you say your father was again."

"He said he had to go to Kurain village for something.” She straightens up and looks again to Miles.  

“I’ve gotta show Pearl! Can we go?!"

He pauses. It wouldn’t be bad to see Miss Fey and Pearls, either… Those two are as much family as Trucy is. Well besides legally, but—

—Who had time to look into silly details like that. 

 “... Sure, but there’s something else you need to help me with first.”

Apollo sighs, relieved he has a bit longer to live.

“Mr. Justice, would you like to come along?” “S-Sure!” he stammers out, without thinking.

So while his life could, at times, suck, the ability to exchange money for desserts and confectioneries was one of the best parts of life, next to getting these treats for free. 

And it’s snowy, cold days like this that make a city just slightly more peaceful. While snow rarely went untouched in these concrete jungles, people didn’t like being outside, and driving was a bit of a hassle.

Because of this, he got to enjoy his hot chocolate (with whipped cream and marshmallows, thank you very much) in relative peace, foot traffic flowing around his mostly unnoticed presence easily. He supposed that’s the best part of cities. They were noisy, annoying and full of people but being full of people allowed him to fall into the monotony and blend in. Standing out was useful when it came to warning people of who he was. But when no one was fighting, sticking out wasn’t as nice. He appreciated times like these, when it was quieter, like this. When no one realized who, exactly, he was... 

Well that was a holiday miracle, he’d say. 

Not that he believes in miracles, but the chance of things like that were, while slim, still possible.

So maybe he believed in miracles more than he thought.

It was a miracle of sorts that the boss had enough money to get those in the company a small gift. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it was… a mug cake? A cake? In a mug? And there’s a mug. With a chocolate powder, which he’s assuming is flour and chocolate and stuff for a cake. At least he likes what he’s seeing so far. He figures he probably has to bake a cake, right? But… he wasn’t one to bake. Respect to those who do, it’s an intricate process that allows for wonderful birthdays and a centerpiece to other kinds of parties. But him? Rough and not really what one would call delicate. 

Tom grins, seeing Shizuo a bit confused by the gift. “You add the wet ingredients and microwave it. There should be instructions on the back.” 

“Oh.” Shizuo turns the gift over and looks. Simple instructions, simple ingredients. Doesn’t look too bad from what he’s gathered.. “Thanks for that.” 

“No problem, make sure to thank the boss when you get a chance, too.”

“Yeah.” Shizuo nods, examining the instructions further. Would he be ok doing this? Specific measurements… he could fudge em, right? Probably? Maybe… He’ll think about it more when he gets home. 

When his shift finally finishes, he walks his way to a supermarket, for Shizuo knows that there’s a simple rule to cake.

 ‘It’s not a cake if it does not have icing’.

Something he’s held on to since his youth, he now must stick to in order to make this mug cake a true cake. A dry mug pastry thing wouldn’t do. It’d be sad, he concludes.

Therefore, from the store he bought a container of icing. 

And by the time he got home, he’d thrown away his empty to-go cup and could only think about his gift. It’s such a small thing, but the excitement for something so sweet, gifted by someone nice enough to let him keep the job despite all the trouble he caused… It made him feel warm inside. Something that he had surprisingly managed to have was friends. Even if he couldn’t get particularly close there were people around him who… cared. 

“So uh, let’s get started on that cake” he thinks, brushing off his mushy feelings. 

Taking a look at those instructions, he reads them over carefully. Just add a bit of milk and some oil. He needs a specific amount, and so, for the sake of the cake, he resigns to looking for the measuring cups. He sifts through his drawers and cupboards, and by some miracle (there it is again), finds them. 

Get out the milk and the oil. Check.

Pick up the mug and the mug cake dry ingredients. Check.

Wash the mug. Check.

So far so good. Next, he dries the mug and pour the dry ingredients into the mug, careful not to spill. Then precisely pouring the milk and oil into the appropriate measuring utensils. A lot of work for just a cake in a mug. But stirring ingredients together and popping the mug (and not the metal spoon) into the microwave and putting it on for a couple of minutes, wasn’t too bad. 

Opening up the icing container and taking a sample of his purchase (sweet, just like he liked it) was pretty great, too. Maybe just receiving one of these would be enough of a gift, but ah. It would get monotonous and plain, and while he wasn’t a hoity-toity chef on one of those shows, he liked his sweets to taste good, and have a contrast in textures. The professionals really did do it best.

Therefore he was plenty excited when the microwaved beeped. He took the mug out, poked it with a knife to make sure it was cooked, and looked at it. 

Then he came to a sudden realization.

“...This is just a microwaved cupcake.” Shizuo says, out loud, in his apartment, alone, staring at the confection. Which…. Isn’t bad, per say. Maybe he should put it in the fridge to cool some, but he can’t stop thinking about it. It’s just… a cupcake. It’s literally a cup cake. Can’t really be mad at that, it’s as advertised, but ah, he wished there was something more to this thing.

Setting it down to cool, Shizuo huffed. He was just going to spread the icing with a knife or something, but… He didn’t realize quite how hard it would be to do that. 

Well he could just eat both by the spoonful, right? That wouldn’t be much an issue, would it? 

… Sure he could, but there’s not much joy in that, was there? Feels kind of pathetic and sad. 

With a deep breath and a sigh, he did what he thought was best. He took a big plastic bag, and started filling it with icing. People did that all the time on those cooking shows, right? The thing where they turn a plastic bag into a piping back. Why couldn’t he try now? Pushing, carefully as he could, all the icing into one corner, he went to look for a pair of scissors. 

Though, why was he even going through all this trouble. For such a silly little thing, does he really deserve something like this. With all the trouble he’s caused the boss over this year (and previous years, if he’s being frank), is this fair? He only receives the occasional gift, and so was this… earned? And why does that even matter to him. He knows he’s not destined to have the quiet life he wishes for, so why even try for it? 

‘Ghh… this is depressing.’ he dismisses, not wanting to think about it anymore. Why bother? Eh, ‘cuz he can?’ He gave in to the feeling, and then was finally accepted by something, right? So it’s ok to give in to desires and wants. To try means that’s one extra moment of happiness.

And this mug cake is going to definitely be one of those extra moments. 

Finally, after far too long, he found the scissors. Well, at least the cake has some time to cool. He’ll take the bag, smush all the icing into one corner and snip. 

“Oh shit-” he struggles to keep the icing in the bag, juggling and dropping some chocolate on the counter. Ok. Ok. How does this work. Twist the end, cup the icing and squeeze the bag so that the icing pipes out on to the cake. And carefully, he manages to pipe out a line of icing, and trace around the circle.

For all of 10 seconds.

In trying to squeeze more out, he managed to misgauge the pressure and, well.

With a loud ‘pop’, he made a mess of his hands and the counter. Alright, how does he fix this? Getting the spoon from earlier, he scrapes as much icing as he could onto the mug cake. Fuck it, right? He’ll try and get the stuff from the counter into the icing can, figuring he could just save the icing for another time, maybe some ice cream for a deconstructed ice cream cake thing?

Deconstructed, he says to himself, looking at the sad, sad excuse for icing and cake in this mug.

He really should have went with the knife, he figures. 

But, ah… he said he’ll enjoy this, so he will. Looking at the packaging again he notices…. Sprinkles? Heh, alright.

He’ll wash his hands, and with the scissors, cut open the packet of sprinkles and, well, sprinkle them on, making the mess look just a little more festive. 

He smiles at the mess, and laughs at himself just a little. He’ll clean this up later, he figures. This never mattered, did it? Just some cake and some icing. It would taste good in the end. 

Well, even with the mess, he did, in fact, have fun.

So he sat at the table, taking his spoon and scooping up some cake up and into his mouth.

‘That ain’t too bad…’ he says to himself, and eats in peace. 

If you asked him, he was just a guy at best, a gangster at worst, and in the middle, a guy who enjoyed a fair fight. 

So how Karisawa and Yumasaki got to talking about how “heroic” he was, he didn’t know. He really should have guessed, though, considering these back and forth arguments were their “thing.” Even when it’s about him, he still didn’t understand it.

It was a hot, sort of lazy day, with nothing particularly going on. The otaku duo had just gotten back, and Togusa was still out (Ruri merch lines were long, huh?). Kadota had decided to forgo browsing some of the books like he usually did for a quiet, peaceful nap.

Those never lasted very long, did they?

“Dotachin should be considered a hero, plain and simple, Yumacchi!” Erika, hands on her hips, pouts towards her friend.

“No one said he shouldn’t be a hero, Karisawa! It’s just that he’s more of an anti-hero than just a ‘hero.” Walker folds his arms, not looking too pleased himself.

“Well, you’re the one calling him an anti-hero! No anti, only hero!”

 “But Kadota’s been a part of several gangs, that puts him into the anti-hero zone!”

“Who said being a gang member made someone an bad guy? Dotachin is a great person, even when in a gang he’s considerate! He helps people! Don’t you remember when we hit the slasher with the van? And he was going after Anri again? Dotachin was going to step in, bare-handed! Oh, oh, and when Mikapon almost got stabbed back when the Dollars meeting happened! He’s a hero!” She points dramatically, just barely touching Walker’s nose. 

“But tropes don’t care for whether his intentions are good or not! Just because he has the moral code of a hero, doesn’t mean who he is changes. That’s the whole point of Anti-hero! To be an unconventional hero!”

“But Dotachin is enough of a hero that it outweighs any part of ‘anti-ness’ that would be! He’s too good to be just an anti-hero! It should be changed! Just because you’re a gangster, doesn’t make you a bad person! You can still be a hero so long as your intentions are good and you fight honorable. Anti-heroes are more for heroes who do good things with the idea of glory and other selfish things in mind!”

“But you can have an honor code and still be an anti-hero! C’mon, Karisawa, you know this!”

“Oi, you guys.” Kadota attempted to interject

“But Dotachin’s not fit for the anti-hero role!”  

“Oi.” A bit more sternly.

“He’s not in a traditional hero role, making him an anti-hero!”

“Shut up, you two!” Kadota shouts, jumping out of his seat a bit to look at the pair of idiots he calls friends. “What the hell are you guys talking about, I’m just a thug—”

“Hah, see!” Walker cheers and Kadota glares for a second in silence, before continuing

“Let me finish, Yumasaki. I’m just a thug. Nothin’ ‘bout being a hero. I don’t want a title, nor do I want to be called a hero, to begin with. I’m just a guy.”

“See, Yumacchi, only a hero can be this humble!” Karisawa beamed. 

“That doesn’t change anything! A thug is a thug and a hero who’s a thug is an anti-hero!” Walker points.

And so their bickering continued.

Kadota, unable to stop them, slumped back into his seat as they kept going, his head starting to throb and his embarrassment rising. Was his face slightly warm…? Gah… how could these guys think like this? No matter how many times he said it, no one paid attention. At best he would consider himself the leader of this small group, but even that wasn’t the case. He was more their keeper if he had to choose a title. He didn’t need to be put up on a pedestal like this. 

“Oi.”

And suddenly they were interrupted again, this time, by a different voice. Opening the trunk to his van, Togusa put his stuff in his “designated merch corner”.

‘Ah, finally… someone somewhat normal.’ Kadota sighed, relieved and feeling not so alone. 

“What if he’s a folk hero? I mean, considering what a legend he is across the Dollars, don’t you think that counts for something?” Togusa leaned in, holding the frame of the trunk as he nonchalantly stretched and cracked his back.

Apparently, he has opinions on the matter too, huh?

What an act of betrayal.

The shock was clearly plastered on the face of Erika and Walker, because for the first time in a while, they went silent.

“...”

“...”

“. . .”

“AAAAAAAAH!!!” Erika shrieked, grabbing Walker’s shoulder and shook him “How could we not think of that?!” Walker, meanwhile, opened his mouth, closed it again, and then held his chin as he began to speak for real this time.

“Togusa, you make a good point, but I still believe that ‘anti-hero’ fits Kadota best!”

“I’m not here to argue, I just wanted to throw in my two cents.” Togusa shrugged

“You weren’t supposed to add to the flames of this nonsense.” Kadota tutted in response, disappointed. “How’d you even know what they were talking about?

“Yeah, well, whether some people see you as a hero or not, ain’t your choice, Kadota. So deal with it. And check your phone. You called me.”  Kadota fished his phone from his pocket and found that he indeed called Togusa. Togusa closes the trunk and walks back around as he does this.

“Ah shit, sorry man.” Kadota ends the call as Togusa sits back down.

“Nah, no problem, thought it was funny. They’re so loud I’m surprised no one said anything to you guys.”

“Aha! That’s it!” Erika perks up and flips her phone open.

“Ah? What’s it?” Kadota asks with a quirked brow towards her, while the other two look at her quizzically. 

“I’m gonna post this to the Dollars forum and see what everyone else says-!”

For the first few days after ditching Chikage at the park, he hadn’t seen the other. He had taken a long route to avoid the biker when he fled, and if he got the smallest glimpse of Chikage, he’d beeline it. He even once tried to bail from the van while on the highway because he thought he saw the other (turns out, he didn’t, and the gang didn’t let him get out anyway.)

So maybe he was just hiding.

He knew he was better than hiding away, he knew it wrong of him to do.

But he just. Kept running.

What a hypocrite.

Why did he keep running?

Well, he knew why, but…. Why?

He knew that, too, but it felt better to question himself, and then not answer his own damn questions….

...No it didn’t.

It didn’t at all.

He’s not supposed to hide and dodge and avoid…

He, of all people, isn’t supposed to run.

But it’s not like his legs moved on their own.

New Year’s Eve.

Himself, the people that made up “the van gang” and some others were having a small new year's celebration at Russia Sushi.

Kadota, however, was stuck on Chikage.

Chikage’s smile right beforehand, the shocked expression when Kadota had caught a glimpse of the other mid-kiss, and how, when he parted and turned away, Chikage looked baffled as to what had happened.

How he just left the other there.

If anyone asked him (and please no one ask him), he would, though reluctant, say he didn’t regret kissing the other.

He quite enjoyed the feel of Chikage’s lips on his. Not that he really has much to compare to, but nonetheless.

‘The feel of him…. What a weird way to put that…’

But that was the truth of it. He had enjoyed kissing the other male.

Which, in itself, is horribly wrong, isn’t it? Ah, and in public too….

‘The hell was I thinking…’

‘You love him.’

‘Great, ok, thanks and now he might hate me. Even more for running away…’

Maybe if he could stop thinking for two whole minutes he’d have some peace

He should text the other…. But he was probably at a party of his own, huh? Well…. If he messaged Chikage, he could look at it later, right? They could talk in the coming days, explain himself, work things out, apologize and he would never have to face the other ever again. Ever.

‘Coward.’

‘I get it!’

“Dotachin, you’ve been staring at Rocchi’s contact for 5 minutes now.” “Speaking to yourself for a while too.” “Dude are you ok?”

Erika, Walker, and Saburo had been looking at their friend, worried about him for the past few days, but even more now, from his stillness and how detached he was from the party

Kadota visibly jumped, smacking one of them.

“Ow—!” He hit Togusa, it seemed.

“Ah um….”

“Obviously he’s trying to ask Rocchi to come over here and grab him and whisk him into the night so they can—” “Karisawa please.”

While that wasn’t exactly it… he almost wished he had such courage to do that.

“Anyway there’s no need to text me if I’m right here, yeah?”

Kadota nearly shrieked at the sound of the voice.

At the very least, he jumped up and stepped on Togusa’s foot (who, in turn, yelped himself).

“Oi Kadota-no-danna. Long time no see.”

Oh, he was angry.

Oh, he was pissed off.

The gang knew it from the sound of his voice but Kadota knew from the look in his eye (though the other’s voice added enough effect to make him feel a chill down his spine and for his stomach to drop) .

It was Karisawa that chirped up.

“Hey, Rocchi! What are you doin’ here in Ikebukuro? I would have thought you’d be in Saitama.”

“Well I didn’t wanna leave all the sweet girls in Ikebukuro without their New Year's’ kiss. That’d be a tragedy, wouldn’t you agree? Anyway, I had to find someone.”

Was it too late to run? If he tried Chikage would surely, without a doubt, catch him. But if he could just get himself hit by a car again…

“Kadota would you uh— Step out with me for a few minutes”

Walker had to cover Erika’s mouth to keep her from squealing audibly. He could find some solace in the fact that Chikage had his eyes trained on Kyohei, and didn’t pay attention to Erika’s muffled voice saying that ‘Rocchi and Dotachin are gonna kiss!’. If only she knew…. And boy was he glad she doesn’t.

Chikage grabbed Kadota’s jacket right under the collar and dragged him out of the restaurant (Erika’s screaming somehow got louder, but Kadota wasn't focused on that).

Dragged outside and off to the side where no one else could see him Chikage let go, and could only glare at Kadota, while Kadota tried to, but couldn’t exactly, keep eye contact. There wasn’t much to say, after all, considering….

“I don’t know where to start with you! How could you just— You just bailed?! Wouldn’t answer my texts, pick up my calls?! You ran from me! After you— You!!!”

Chikage snarled and made a low grumble, his eyes never leaving the other.

“How could you just— how could you just leave.” he grabbed the other by the collar again, and Kadota looked at the other with a pained expression. He didn’t realize that the other was in such turmoil over something like a kiss. But, well, it was out of the blue and from him, another guy, so... but even still… Chikage didn’t seem the type to be phased by anything.

“You, of all people, running away…. Didn’t think you were the type…” he muttered. “Just gonna leave me hanging again, are you?”

“I was tryina let you finish.”

“Didn’t let me even start at the park.”

He stood up straight, though he didn’t pry the other off.

“Yeah, well you have the right to yell at me, and the right to get everything off your chest…. I’m not gonna defend myself, Chikage. What I did was shitty, I know.” “No shit—” “But I…. I got scared… I got scared and I panicked and I bolted….”

“Hmm.” Eyes narrowed, but his grip loosened

“I ended up realizing that I hurt you, and more than that I was scared you hated me for this… And I was too scared to face you and see the consequences of my actions…. I’m sorry.” “Hn…. do you really regret it…?” “Running? Of course.”

“No I mean the kiss— Did you regret that”

“Ah….”

“If you did, just say so, and we—”

“I didn’t”

“What.”

“I don’t regret kissing you…. Maybe without asking or at least a second of warning, yeah, but… I don’t regret trying…”

“....And here you had me thinking I was a bad kisser—” Chikage entirely let go of the other, and laughed bitterly while he held his head.

“Ah…..?”

“Kadota you are an actual idiot.”

“Listen I get that but what do you mean.”

“I mean that you’re an idiot, a cute one, but an idiot all the same. I’m your friend, please have more faith in me to not hate you for something like a kiss.”

“I ‘unno man, you never know... To be honest, I don’t actually know you very well”

“Would you like to change that? “

“Are you asking me out?”

“You tell me.” Chikage grinned, grabbed Kadota by his jacket and yanked him to kiss him, grin widening as he held the other down. Kadota’s face flushed, and before he could gather himself, Chikage let go, grin somehow wider. “I’d run but I’d rather hear your answer.”

“Rude…” Kadota, however, gave a sly grin himself. “It’s a date, text me when.”

“You got it~” Chikage laughs, and as Kadota steps forward to go back to his friends, Chikage slings an arm over Kadota’s shoulders. “Mind if i hang out for a while longer, I ran over here mid-party, and it’d be a damn shame if I left another one now.” “How’d you even know where I was in the first place.”

“Eri-chan texted me~ Said you were staring at my name so lovingly that you got distracted from texting me, and who can blame you—”

“Oh shut up before I make you—”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”