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The chief prosecutor frowned at him, evidently having come to the same conclusion. “Are you Miles Edgeworth, rookie prosecutor?”

He internally bristled at being called a rookie but, well, it wasn’t an inaccurate title. “I am. And I suppose you are my future self, then?”

The edge of his older self’s mouth quirked a little. “You would be right.”

“Well. Congratulations at becoming Chief Prosecutor, then,” Miles said with a slight bow. “I imagine that von Karma is quite proud of- you.”

“I suppose you would be right,” Edgeworth said with a vaguely distracted air, but before Miles could press him on that statement, he’d already moved on to the next part of what he had to say. “Now, while you are here, I really can’t tell you any more about the future than what you already know. We have no way of telling if or how it would affect the timeline.”

Miles nodded. “A reasonable precaution,” he remarked. “Though - could you indulge me one question?”

Edgeworth frowned. “It depends on what it is.”

“Fair. Do- do we ever discover who killed our father?” It had been on his mind more than usual, ever since that disastrous attempt at a first case had ended with another child losing her father to a murder. And with the deadline set by the statute of limitations being only a little over four years away, time was slowly but surely running out to bring his father’s killer to justice. 

His older self dropped his head, his eyes adopting a haunted expression. “Yes,” he murmured. “Yes, we do.”

Miles nodded, shaken from the reaction of his older self. So all their worst nightmares had come true - well, not all of them, seeing as Edgeworth had still managed to become Chief Prosecutor. But it was still a fright to learn that yes, he had in fact killed his father that day.

“So, how many cases have you had so far?” Edgeworth asked in an obvious attempt to get on a different subject.

Miles went along with it. He didn’t really want to think about that day too much either. Unfortunately, what he had to say wasn’t any more pleasant. “Just one,” he replied. “Well, unless you want to count the Yatagarasu mess. Fawles.”

A wince from his older self. Yeah, that was another thing neither of them particularly wanted to think about. “That was…” he trailed off.

Miles simply nodded. There wasn’t really a need to say, not when both of you knew what had happened, had seen it happen, had the same memories. “Awful,” he finished.

“And a tragedy,” Edgeworth concurred. Simple words, barely sufficient to cover what had happened, but enough all the same. 

They let those words hang in the air for a few moments, before his older self spoke again. “How.. how long ago was that for you?”

“Less than an hour,” he admitted. “I haven’t even told anyone about it.” He’d spent most of that time standing with the defense lawyers and the judge in the lobby in shock, not saying much, but for once all on the same side. Von Karma didn’t even know yet- he had originally planned to watch Miles from the stands, but then he’d been called in last minute to replace a prosecutor who had suddenly fallen ill. He’d promised Miles that he’d come over as soon as he could to celebrate his first victory with him. Miles had been disappointed at first, but now he was very, very glad that Manfred hadn’t been watching.

Even if he had won, he didn’t think either of them could celebrate after seeing a man kill himself on the stand.

“I know that we aren’t normally fond of physical contact, but would you.. Would you like a hug?” he asked awkwardly, though less so than Miles would have done.

“I think… yes. I think that would be nice,” he murmured.

His future self walked up to him and carefully wrapped his arms around him. After a second, Miles did the same, and buried his head in Edgeworth’s neck. He began to shake as he allowed himself to start thinking of what had happened again.

He felt Edgeworth begin to stroke his hair slowly, lightly. But he liked the sensation, so he leaned into it, and his other self started to go deeper. 

After some time, he felt tears begin to leak from his eyes. It felt good, grounding and comforting, like he could simply stay here and not have to worry about what would happen next. So he did, Edgeworth continuing to stroke his hair, occasionally rocking them or muttering something in his ear.