Context:miniworth requested Heather teaching Miles and Ken how to smile in spite of everything. (EN ROUTE)
"Boy, they really did a doozy on ya, huh? Guess little shits like that exist in every world..." Heather dropped the rolled-up, very-much-reddened paper towel in the garbage bin and wiped her hands off on her jeans as she straightened up in front of the very sorry-looking Miles Edgeworth on the bench in front of her. His head was down and his palms were squared flat on the hard wooden seat, and even though he was so very obviously trying to suppress it, his shoulders were hitching every so often. His normally impeccably-neat clothes were rumpled and filthy-- even torn in some places. And although his chin was firmly planted against his chest to hide it, the soiled tissue Heather had just thrown away was evidence of his bloodied nose. Turning her head to face the other (thankfully mostly-unscathed) little boy standing in this cramped little public restroom (it was a men's room, but Heather apparently didn't give a crap) she had hastily ducked them into, she spoke with an encouraging tone. "So... what exactly happened, Ken?" "... Bigger kids, they... beat us in a Pokemon match," he said distractedly, watching his friend with deeply-furrowed brows and a concerned frown. "But instead of taking half our money, they wanted all of it. ... So Miles tried to tell them that wasn't fair and--" "Yeah, I think I can piece the rest of it together myself," Heather sighed, shaking her head and turning her attention back to the silver-haired boy she'd just spent a good ten minutes mopping up. "You guys did the right thing. S'not your fault some creeps get their kicks by beating up on little kids..." She paused there, looking around the dingy bathroom. "... Not much more I can do in here, to be honest. C'mon, let's get you guys to the Center..." The up-till-now silent Miles shook his head. "They're outside, I saw them," he mumbled thickly, lifting one hand to discretely swipe at a smudge of dirt on his cheek. "They were pointing and laughing when they saw you bring us in here..." "... They were, huh." Straightening up once more, Heather turned and headed over to the open doorway to take a look, kicking some stray toilet paper out of the way as she went. Ken edged over to his friend as she did so. "... Are you going to be all right?" he mumbled quietly, hands in his pockets. "... Y-yes. I'll be fine," Miles replied, sniffing deeply before sitting up at last. His eyes were red and puffy, but he watched Heather solemnly as she headed back over to them to deliver the news. "Yeah, I see 'em out there," the teen said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. "But they're not gonna try anything as long as I'm with you guys, so... c'mon." Miles frowned, eying Heather's proffered hand unsurely. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. As was increasingly common, Ken was on the same mental wavelength as his best friend, and he piped up instead. "But they're still out there. Can't we... wait a little while? Just until they go? So they won't see..." Heather arched a brow and looked at them both, hand still raised. When both just stared up at her pleadingly, she let it fall, sighing. "I'm not gonna stay in this nasty old bathroom forever, and I'm not gonna let you guys, either. You won't get anywhere by hiding from a bunch of stupid bullies. Letting 'em waste your time like that." The boys shifted uncomfortably, averting their gazes. Heather let the awkward silence extend for a little while before folding her arms. "I know it's embarrassing. But you can feel embarrassed for five seconds while we walk past them, or you can let them totally control your whole afternoon by sitting in here for three hours until they get bored and wander off." They glanced at each other. Then, slowly and a little sheepishly, Miles hopped off the bench, rubbing his sore nose. "All right... let's go..." "Ah, ah, ah--" Heather threw out a hand before he could walk too far towards the door. "Hang on. One thing you're missing that you gotta have before you walk outta here." When she was met by two very confused stares, she pointed to the corners of her mouth and, very conspicuously, poked them upwards. The stares got even more confused, and Ken was the first one to voice the question they both shared. "... Why?" Miles couldn't help but agree. They had just been hit and thrown in the dirt by a gang of kids twice as big as them. What reason could there possibly be to smile? "Because if you go out there still lookin' scared, that's letting 'em know they've won. .... But come out of here looking like you're ready to run off without a care and walk around on some old peoples' lawns or something, man, and that just tells 'em that they're not even worth your time of day. You're so over them. They like, don't even matter. Now c'mon. Let's see those pearly whites." "... But that's dishonest," Miles pointed out. "It's called bluffing and it might save your butt one day. C'mon, both of you." The boys looked at each other again, a little unsurely-- before turning back to Heather and giving it their best shot. "... Nnno, that's just baring your teeth. Which is also good to do sometimes, but it's not what we're goin' for now. Make it crinkle up your eyes, that way it looks rea-- theeeeeere ya go!" Clapping them both on the shoulder with a broad grin of her own, Heather turned to the door. "All right, let's get outta here. When we go through the door, don't even look at 'em. Juuust keep smiling. All right?" When she got two affirmative nods in reply, she smiled back and shouldered the door open to let them through, making a mental note to come back here once she'd dropped them off at the Center. She'd gotten a gooood look at those guys' faces, and it had been awhile since she'd last busted her knuckles on anything worth the swelling.
There'll be a Bump and There'll be a Bruise
4. There'll Be a Bump and There'll Be a Bruise
Context:"Boy, they really did a doozy on ya, huh? Guess little shits like that exist in every world..."
Heather dropped the rolled-up, very-much-reddened paper towel in the garbage bin and wiped her hands off on her jeans as she straightened up in front of the very sorry-looking Miles Edgeworth on the bench in front of her. His head was down and his palms were squared flat on the hard wooden seat, and even though he was so very obviously trying to suppress it, his shoulders were hitching every so often. His normally impeccably-neat clothes were rumpled and filthy-- even torn in some places. And although his chin was firmly planted against his chest to hide it, the soiled tissue Heather had just thrown away was evidence of his bloodied nose.
Turning her head to face the other (thankfully mostly-unscathed) little boy standing in this cramped little public restroom (it was a men's room, but Heather apparently didn't give a crap) she had hastily ducked them into, she spoke with an encouraging tone.
"So... what exactly happened, Ken?"
"... Bigger kids, they... beat us in a Pokemon match," he said distractedly, watching his friend with deeply-furrowed brows and a concerned frown. "But instead of taking half our money, they wanted all of it. ... So Miles tried to tell them that wasn't fair and--"
"Yeah, I think I can piece the rest of it together myself," Heather sighed, shaking her head and turning her attention back to the silver-haired boy she'd just spent a good ten minutes mopping up. "You guys did the right thing. S'not your fault some creeps get their kicks by beating up on little kids..." She paused there, looking around the dingy bathroom. "... Not much more I can do in here, to be honest. C'mon, let's get you guys to the Center..."
The up-till-now silent Miles shook his head.
"They're outside, I saw them," he mumbled thickly, lifting one hand to discretely swipe at a smudge of dirt on his cheek. "They were pointing and laughing when they saw you bring us in here..."
"... They were, huh." Straightening up once more, Heather turned and headed over to the open doorway to take a look, kicking some stray toilet paper out of the way as she went. Ken edged over to his friend as she did so.
"... Are you going to be all right?" he mumbled quietly, hands in his pockets.
"... Y-yes. I'll be fine," Miles replied, sniffing deeply before sitting up at last. His eyes were red and puffy, but he watched Heather solemnly as she headed back over to them to deliver the news.
"Yeah, I see 'em out there," the teen said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. "But they're not gonna try anything as long as I'm with you guys, so... c'mon."
Miles frowned, eying Heather's proffered hand unsurely. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. As was increasingly common, Ken was on the same mental wavelength as his best friend, and he piped up instead.
"But they're still out there. Can't we... wait a little while? Just until they go? So they won't see..."
Heather arched a brow and looked at them both, hand still raised. When both just stared up at her pleadingly, she let it fall, sighing.
"I'm not gonna stay in this nasty old bathroom forever, and I'm not gonna let you guys, either. You won't get anywhere by hiding from a bunch of stupid bullies. Letting 'em waste your time like that."
The boys shifted uncomfortably, averting their gazes.
Heather let the awkward silence extend for a little while before folding her arms.
"I know it's embarrassing. But you can feel embarrassed for five seconds while we walk past them, or you can let them totally control your whole afternoon by sitting in here for three hours until they get bored and wander off."
They glanced at each other.
Then, slowly and a little sheepishly, Miles hopped off the bench, rubbing his sore nose. "All right... let's go..."
"Ah, ah, ah--" Heather threw out a hand before he could walk too far towards the door. "Hang on. One thing you're missing that you gotta have before you walk outta here."
When she was met by two very confused stares, she pointed to the corners of her mouth and, very conspicuously, poked them upwards. The stares got even more confused, and Ken was the first one to voice the question they both shared.
"... Why?"
Miles couldn't help but agree. They had just been hit and thrown in the dirt by a gang of kids twice as big as them. What reason could there possibly be to smile?
"Because if you go out there still lookin' scared, that's letting 'em know they've won. .... But come out of here looking like you're ready to run off without a care and walk around on some old peoples' lawns or something, man, and that just tells 'em that they're not even worth your time of day. You're so over them. They like, don't even matter. Now c'mon. Let's see those pearly whites."
"... But that's dishonest," Miles pointed out.
"It's called bluffing and it might save your butt one day. C'mon, both of you."
The boys looked at each other again, a little unsurely-- before turning back to Heather and giving it their best shot.
"... Nnno, that's just baring your teeth. Which is also good to do sometimes, but it's not what we're goin' for now. Make it crinkle up your eyes, that way it looks rea-- theeeeeere ya go!"
Clapping them both on the shoulder with a broad grin of her own, Heather turned to the door.
"All right, let's get outta here. When we go through the door, don't even look at 'em. Juuust keep smiling. All right?"
When she got two affirmative nods in reply, she smiled back and shouldered the door open to let them through, making a mental note to come back here once she'd dropped them off at the Center. She'd gotten a gooood look at those guys' faces, and it had been awhile since she'd last busted her knuckles on anything worth the swelling.