A/N: Random oneshot that I wrote today. It's almost Christmas... I can't say whether I'll post a Christmas/holiday fic yet :P For now, enjoy some Ema and Lana family fluff! Forgive the slight sentimentality.

Disclaimer: I do not own Ace Attorney.

Thirteen-year-old Lana Skye was not thrilled by the fact that she was getting a baby sister.

To be perfectly honest, Lana didn't even like children much. They were noisy and often sticky. They constantly needed care and attention—almost like some sort of household pet. No, she thought, shaking her head grimly. Even household pets can take care of themselves and leave you alone once in a while. The same could not be said about little sisters.

She knew that she would probably be expected to babysit her new sister at some point. Lana resented this. She did not need this sort of interference in her life. Surely her parents didn't believe that babysitting, of all things, could be integrated into her busy schedule of studying and socializing?

Time was running out.

It was nearly ten months ago since Lana was first told about her mother's pregnancy. Mr. and Mrs. Skye were never ones to hide information such as this from their daughter, and so they told Lana the news as soon as they learned of it themselves. While Lana's parents were overjoyed by the approaching arrival of the new member of the family, Lana herself was cherishing the last sibling-free months she had left.

And now, they were a mere two weeks away from the due date, Lana's mother's pregnancy was clearly at its final stages, and a little sister could pop out and into the world at any given moment.

And indeed she did, precisely on time.

Lana sat wearily in the waiting room, tapping her fingers impatiently against the armrests of her seat. She was seated on one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs that one could always find in every known hospital. Sitting on an identical chair beside her was her father, smiling indulgently at his thirteen-year-old daughter's behaviour.

He was not a blind nor a stupid man, and he and his wife both could tell that Lana was far from happy about the upcoming new addition to the family. They hoped that once Lana actually met her sister, she would change her mind about her.

Lana sighed irritably. The baby wasn't even born yet, and she was already wasting Lana's precious time! She wished her sister would hurry up and get out of their mother already, so they could all just go home.

What seemed like eternities later, the nurses finally allowed father and daughter inside with the mother.

Lana's mother was lying in a typical hospital cot, the prominent round bump that had dominated half of her torso at last absent. In her arms, she was cradling a bundle of pink blankets. Her face looked worn, her light brown hair was slightly dishevelled, but she was smiling widely down at the new bouncing baby girl that was surely hidden in the blankets. Lana's father immediately strode to his wife's side, staring in awe at his new daughter. Lana, on the other hand, hung back, hovering awkwardly by the foot of her mother's bed.

"Lana, honey," said her mother, her voice hushed with elation, "meet your little sister... Ema."

She reluctantly made her way over to her mother's other side. Now they were a perfect picture of an ideal family—the father standing by one side of the bed, the daughter by the other, and lying between them the mother holding the newborn child.

Lana peered down at the pink blankets. She saw a small head, topped with a fuzz of brown hair. The baby had obviously been cleaned up after the delivery, a small part at the back of Lana's mind noted, as she wasn't all bloody and revolting. The infant's face wasn't glowing with life nor angelic and rosy-cheeked like what was often shown after birth scenes on television. Instead, her face had that typical scrunched-up look of newborn children. But there it was—the face that shared Lana's mother and father, that Lana had been anticipating with reluctance and resentment.

Her baby sister.

The mother held up the sleeping infant towards Lana. Hesitantly, she took the bundle in her arms. This new, warm weight being pressed into her arms, into her protection, felt incredibly significant somehow—profoundly so. The infant's eyelids fluttered feebly, and then opened completely, so she was peering right back up at Lana. She gazed unsteadily at Lana's face, her own face small and pink and defenceless.

Ema.

Lana stared, captivated by the astoundingly innocent and vulnerable blue eyes of her little sister. In the background, she could hear her mother's soft voice. "Congratulations, Lana... You're an older sister."

.-.-.

In five years, Lana had matured tremendously from the bratty thirteen-year-old girl that considered a sister she had never met a nuisance. At present, this "nuisance" was now all Lana had left in the world. She gazed at her younger sister's puzzled eyes—innocent eyes that had not changed much from when she was born, from the moment when her safety was entrusted to Lana for the very first—but certainly not the last—time. It was now entrusted permanently to her and she could feel the vast mass of this new responsibility pressing down on her shoulders.

She took the confused Ema in her arms, her weight now familiar to her, simply glad that her baby sister existed, pushing back the news about their parents for later.