[dracocantus]

a concept: sebastian debeste, age 24. he’s leaning against the desk of chief prosecutor edgeworth, waving his hands theatrically as he recounts the events of his latest case. edgeworth smiles at him, and sebastian pauses to grin back. he pushes a pair of red glasses up his nose before continuing with his story, but edgeworth has stopped listening, lost in thought. sebastian has changed, edgeworth notes. his messy and uncoordinated logic is long gone; his arguments in the courtroom are now smooth and articulate, and his voice radiates with power. but more importantly, he smiles. his self-satisfied smirks have been replaced by bright, sunny smiles that reach his eyes. he has shed his past along with his themis academy uniform, both discarded at the detention center five years prior. blaise debeste is nothing but a ghost, a memory of something no longer relevant. suddenly, the door to the office swings open, and an ex-yatagarasu bounds in. edgeworth raises a hand in greeting and sebastian doesn’t hesitate to hug her tightly. kay sets herself on the other side of edgeworth’s desk. she, too, begins bubbling about a recent case of hers, for she has followed in the footsteps of byrne faraday and become one of edgeworth’s best prosecutors. sebastian proudly calls her such—one of the best—because he lives for himself now. he lives for his badge, he lives for his music, and he lives the people he’s held so dear for the past seven years, but above all, he lives for himself. he doesn’t need to be the best anymore.