Notes: Hi, everyone! Once again I apologize for the slow updates but school is super crazy… it's finals week and I should really be studying but then my friend lent me Dual Destinies and I CAN'T STOP BECAUSE IT'S SO GOOD OH MY GOODNESS and then I was just in such a mood to write fanfiction that I just banged this out, so…. Hopefully it turned out well! Thank you so so so much for all the reviews and follows and faves, hopefully they will keep coming. (:

iv. fate

The brain goes through many, many changes as a person gets older. Due to people having different circumstances in their lives, some brains are forced to mature faster than others.

Miles Edgeworth is sixteen years old. While most peers at his age are vying for their high school crush's attention or figuring out who's getting the beer for this weekend's party, Miles is reading law textbook after law textbook that most adults with college degrees in their thirties would cringe at the sight of.

Of course, Miles Edgeworth isn't your average sixteen year old. He's two short years away from officially getting his prosecutor's badge, and he also happens to be one of the esteemed Manfred von Karma's prodigies. He does not waste time on silly things meant for sixteen year old boys because such trivialities are too juvenile for someone in his position.

Unfortunately, Miles Edgeworth has a secret – sometimes, he is nine years old again. A scared little boy trapped in a cold, dark elevator, with the air getting thicker and harder to take in with each passing second and the voices of his dear father and the court bailiff getting angrier and angrier, and then the damn pistol that so gently falls at his feet and if he could just do ANYTHING to get them to stop arguing –

And then there is the blood-curdling roar that has woken him up for nearly every night since he's been here. Miles quickly lifts his face out of the textbook on his desk, wiping some of the ink off his nose that resulted from beads of sweat all over his face. This time wasn't so bad, he thinks to himself. Just last week the nightmares were so intense that he had to sleep with a pair of socks stuffed in his mouth so that Franziska – or worse, Manfred himself – couldn't hear him scream.

He is thankful that von Karma took him in, and grateful for the opportunities to get criminals off the streets that having a mentor such as he would undoubtedly provide. But Miles finds that as soon as he wakes from the personal hell that is sleep, he can't help but feel like a little boy who just wants a hug from his father to make it all better. Too shaky to feel foolish about it, he wraps his arms around himself and stares out the window into the night sky.

Somewhere miles and miles away, Maya Fey is a nine year old girl who is practicing learning to read. She is sprawled out on a comfy blanket in the side room of Kurain Manor – which offers a lovely view of the night sky, she notes, - and is reading an old picture book that once belonged to Mia when she was her age.

"Mystic Maya! It is most certainly past your bedtime, and you're already difficult enough to wake up for early morning meditation." Morgan Fey stands with her arms crossed at the door to the side room, giving the child on the floor a look of pure disgust before quickly changing her expression to faux concern.

"I know, Aunt Morgan, but look at this book I found!" Maya says with a grin, holding up her picture book like a prize. "It's called 'The Red String of Fate', and it's about how everyone is born with an invisible red string tied around their finger that's connected to someone else! And that no matter what happens, and no matter what bad stuff gets in the way, the string will never break and the two people who are meant to be together will always find each other at the right time," she explained to her less-than-pleased Aunt. "Isn't that great, Aunt Morgan?! I mean, maybe he lives really far away, and we probably haven't met yet, but there's someone out there!" She beamed, wagging her little finger in the air and twirling the imaginary string. "You too, Aunt Morgan, I bet you have a string too, and—"

"That's quite enough out of you, Mystic Maya." Morgan rolled her eyes and snatched the book from a dejected-looking Maya's hands. "You can have this back tomorrow, after your meditation session. But right now it's time for you to go to bed."

"…Yes, Aunt Morgan…" The little spirit medium in training groaned as her Aunt left the room and walked down the hall. Maya stared down at the invisible string on her finger once more before folding her hands together and saying a tiny prayer.

"Hello, important person," she whispered quietly, "I know we do not know each other yet, but I hope we get to meet real soon. I also hope you are doing well, and that if it is also night time where you live, you get a good rest. Good night."

And somewhere, miles and miles away, fate would have it that the second time Miles Edgeworth fell asleep that night, it would be peaceful and free of screams that pierced the night.

He would also note the strange sensation of something gently tugging on the end of his finger.

"Geez, it's so tidy in here that it's giving me the creeps."

Miles Edgeworth may not have had company in his apartment – or in his life in general – that frequently, but he never thought cleanliness was a problem. True, he had definitely tried his best to spruce the place up a bit before deciding to invite Maya into his home to try some real tea from his collection as opposed to the garbage they served at that café they usually met up at, but everything looked just fine in his opinion. He scoffed. "Yes, well, it may be a shocking change of scenery for you seeing as you're used to Wright's mess of an office, but I've always liked to keep things organized."

Maya giggled. "You can't fool me, Mr. Prosecutor – I bet it's only clean because you spend so many days cooped up in your office that you don't have time to make a mess here."

…Is it really that obvious? "P-Preposterous. I simply keep on top of my housework. Now, would—"

"OH, COOL! It's a limited edition Steel Samurai collector's mug! With the removable Samurai Spear part to use as a stirrer for your tea!" To Miles' horror, Maya had already moved from his living room area to the kitchen in a flash. "Where did you—"

"Er, that was a gift," he said quickly. "But feel free to use it for your tea if you'd like, I, ah, prefer simpler mugs anyway." But please don't drop it, it's limited edition after all!

"Mmm, well, your loss." The spirit medium shrugged. Miles' apartment was exactly like she'd imagined, save for the Steel Samurai merchandise. She'd been spending a lot of time with the prosecutor as of late – at first as the shoulder she desperately needed to cry on, but as she got to know the "demon attorney" better, she might even call him a friend. "Got any burgers, Mr. Edgeworth? Nothing goes with a nice, hot cup of tea better than a juicy burger with the works!"

Before Miles had a chance to argue that Maya had also claimed burgers went just as well with coffee and ice cream cake, all rational thoughts seemed to vanish from his mind as an unmistakable rumble shook the ground.

Sometimes, Miles Edgeworth is nine years old again. And as he collapses down into a shaking, hyperventilating ball on the kitchen floor, he is once again trapped in the elevator.

Everything happens so fast that Maya almost does drop that collector's mug (she manages to save it from shattering just in time with her cat-like reflexes, a small victory that she doesn't have time to celebrate at the moment) as she, too, collapses down to the floor as the whole room starts shaking, although she is in better shape than the prosecutor.

"Um… M-Mr. Edgeworth…?" She whispers, crawling over to the shaking demon attorney as she gently places a hand on his shoulder.

"Stop…. stop fighting… please, please stop, please…"

Maya bites her lip, because she is starting to realize that she has absolutely no idea what to do in this situation. "N-No one's fighting! It's okay, r-really! You're safe, it's okay, everything's—"

"Sorry… I'm… so sorry, Father… so sorry… please…"

Tears start to fill the medium's eyes and she feels a familiar pang of guilt in her heart, and it is at this moment that Maya realizes that despite their polar opposite personalities and attitudes, deep down she and Miles Edgeworth are one and the same.

The room stops shaking, and Maya wraps both arms around the shivering prosecutor, nestling her head on his shoulder. "You are a great man, Miles Edgeworth, and your father would be so very, very proud."

She hums the tune to a lullaby that Mia used to sing to her when she was a child, and eventually Miles Edgeworth is an adult again.

Sometimes, Miles Edgeworth is nine years old again, but he is starting to realize that when he's back in that elevator, there's someone at the end of his bright red string to pull him back to reality again.