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Anime/Manga » Fullmetal Alchemist » He Who Searches For Himself
Yuuki Hikari
Author of 4 Stories |
HE WHO SEARCHES FOR HIMSELF
Please Note; this story picks up where the FullMetal Alchemist Anime Episode 51 leaves off. Please don't spoil yourself if you've not finished the series.
"Al! Get back from there!" Izumi barked from the rickety wooden bench she occupied, her narrowed expression locked in a disapproving frown.
"It's fine! I just wanted to take a closer look!" Al called back, placing a hand on the cold, metal side of the train engine. His voice lowered as he spoke to himself, "I've seen them go by many times, but these ones are so different," his eyes shone with youth; wide and full of renewed life. Alphonse laughed lightly, a thought crossed his mind: 'This is what I get for spending so much time with Winry!' and he pressed the tips of his fingers harder against the cold steel, his lips curling in amusement, 'She'd be so jealous that I get to be up close and personal with the latest engines coming out of Central.'
Izumi slapped her hands down over her legs, thrusting her body upwards, she stood up, "If you don't stand behind the white lines, they'll take away your ticket!" She wasn't sure if her statement was entirely true, but the command in her voice made it believable.
Al quickly pulled his hand away and staggered awkwardly back. A disconcerting thought had crossed his mind about what Sensei would do to him if such a thing happened twenty minutes before they were to board. He straightened his pale, green, button-up shirt with a sharp tug. Though she hadn't said anything to him, he could tell that Izumi had not been too happy the night before when their train pulled in late. From the delays, the pair had been forced to wait for a 9AM departure.
Turning away from the train, Alphonse ran back up the staircase towards the platform where Izumi stood, stern as ever and smiled sheepishly, "The trains traveled by all the time, but Brother and I always stayed away from the tracks. It's so different here."
Izumi shook her head weakly and slumped back down onto the bench, "It's no different than the one you got on in Rizembool."
Al's eyes widened, "There's only one track going through Rizembool Station! There's…" Al spun sharply away from her and scampered to the railing, spying down into the rail yard, "... two in here, and there are more outside! The platforms are huge, there's a roof overhead, and floor is concrete; it's nothing like the old wooden one in Rizembool!"
Izumi stared at him for a moment before laughing lightly, speaking under her breath, "Boys… I don't know what I'd do if they were gir-"
Her eyes jetted sharply left - the constant feeling of distrust for this world that kept her body on constant alert. Quickly glancing away was a dark- haired, young lady sitting on an adjacent bench, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. Frowning, Izumi quickly dismissed the peering girl, leaned back in the bench and closed her eyes.
Perhaps exhaustion from the sleepless night caused time to skip, and in what felt like mere moments later, the boarding call came over the broadcast system. The shrill noise jolted her awake and she slid uncomfortably out of her seat. Grabbing at the back of her tense, sore neck, Izumi called out for Al. His voice echoed back and she could hear his footsteps pounding along the platform towards her. Bending down to pick up some of their baggage, Izumi once again took notice of the girl, this time she headed down the staircase towards the train's platform.
Al grinned to himself as he snapped up his baggage and descended the wide, 7-step staircase towards his train, eagerly entering into the bustling crowd of people pushing to get on.
"Al! Stay close by!"
He stopped in his step; frowning, he gave his eyes a slight roll, "Damn… Sensei's being so over protective…"
"She's not your mother, then?"
Al blinked to attention, his startled expression turning to the female voice standing next to him. The girl, who had been watching Izumi earlier, looked away, her prominent blue eyes glancing around with nerves.
Pausing a moment, Al caught himself staring at her and quickly snapped to his senses, "Ah, no she's not," came the answer with his characteristic brightness, "she's… like a mother, but not my mother," his voice faded as he spoke, growing hallow. The unease about the topic of his relationship with Izumi was something he had not wanted to encounter and something he was not yet sure how to handle it. As he was now, the sensation of his lost mother, though many years past, was a memory that seemed not even a year old. For everyone around him, time had healed many wounds, but Al's young memories had been hacked open with razors and salt – an uncomfortable feeling he tried desperately to cover up.
He shook off the feeling and looked back at her puzzled, wondering where the question came from. An awkward silence ensued and Al stared at her a while longer, wondering if he was supposed to comment further. Again he was staring, watching as her hair bounced around her arms as people brushed past her. Yet, in the short moments he watched her, he was caught by how the early morning sunlight hit her eyes, and he felt as if she was the one who longed to ask something of him. Al's gaze slowly shifted towards his feet, unsure of what to bring into their conversation to end this moment in time; his eye began to follow a crack along the wooden platform.
The girl jolted as the crowd pushed the both of them towards the boarding doors. She waved her hand in front of her face frantically, her voice squeaking, "I'm sorry, it's not something you want to talk about. I'm sorry I brought it up."
Al put his smile up for her, "No, it's fine," he beamed, "don't feel bad for tha-" he choked as he was shoved aside by a man much taller than he. From the corner of his vision, Alphonse saw the girl get sucked away into the flowing crowd.
'What was that all about?' he wondered.
Without warning, Al found himself lurching backwards, not by his own choice, as Izumi grabbed him by the back of his shirt, "You're having hearing problems today!" she barked. Al raised a feeble hand in apology.
"People are so barbaric. It's not like the train is too small for everyone here, but they push and shove like they'll be left behind," Izumi muttered to herself, quite cranky. Al narrowed his eyes as if he was attempting to examine through his Sensei.
"Sensei, maybe you should sleep on the train," he commented, using his mother's concerned gaze to look back at her.
Izumi stepped up into the train car, Al following right behind. She looked at him with a half grin before ruffling his hair, "If I wanted to sleep on the train, I would have gotten us tickets for the front car".
"Sir?"
Startled, Ed stepped thru his mess of papers to unlock the door, "Yes?"
A middle-aged, female attendant greeted him, "You requested earlier, that since we were not stopping in Reichenhall, to know when we entered Austria."
"Ah yes, thank you," Edward was about to close the door on her, but he frowned, turning a confused look back at the girl. He tightened his ponytail, "Isn't it supposed to be… Czechoslovakia now?"
Shrugging a bit she replied, "The places keep changing. But I think Czechoslovakia is the division to the north, not the south." A grin was shot Ed's way as he closed the door.
"Yeah, alright," He scratched his head vigorously, muttering to himself, "doesn't matter, either way we're stuck traveling through chaos."
This time Edward sat himself down on the floor of his train cabin; he cursed and used his right arm as a paperweight so he could brush aside the dirt his shoes had left on some of the papers he'd trampled. Ed had gotten use to the paralyzed sensation of his right arm, clanking around him as he moved.
The curtains to the room were pulled wide, and he glanced up towards the window that filled his cabin with what should have been a bright light. The sunlight never seemed to illuminate anything like he remembered and he stared out the window into the smoky-blue sky. His expression relaxed as he sat back on his knees; his shoulders fell and mind emptied as he let himself drift along with the clouds.
At some point he had shut his eyes; suddenly realizing he was only half aware of what was going on around him, Edward snapped his eyes back open. Brushing his bangs from his face, Ed looked at the papers tossed about carelessly on the floor, "What a mess, dammit!" He briskly swept up his papers and began putting a few of them back in their envelopes, "I can't get anything done if I have to leave it all wrapped up. Oh! Can't loose that," he grabbed his Vienna transfer information off the floor and tucked it into his shirt's chest pocket, "Last thing I need to do is get lost in Austria of all places."
"What…" Izumi asked in a dull monotone.
"Nothing," Al replied trying to hide a sheepish tone.
"… What…" Izumi persisted, not changing to voice she'd used earlier.
"I need to go to the washroom," squirming a bit, Alphonse didn't need to look at her; he could feel the cloud of doom growing around his Sensei.
"I told you, you should have gone-"
"I know what you said!" his sheepish voice interjected.
"Don't cut me OFF!" Izumi exploded like a bolt of lightning, standing up from her seat. Al nearly shrieked and curled up in his seat while calling out apologies.
"Excuse me!"
Izumi shot her eyes over her shoulder and Al peered out from his arms wrapped around his face. Clenching her fists, the girl from earlier straightened her knee-length, mauve dress and tossed her hair over her shoulders. Though her hands were clenched tight, her arms shook with nerves, "Your voice bothers me." It took her only a moment to realize just how rude she'd sounded, but she didn't seem to back down.
Izumi slowly turned around to face her, the exhausted dark circles under her eyes gave a demonic look, "Pardon me…?"
Taking a frightened a step backwards the girl choked, "I…"
Al adjusted himself in his seat, slowly coming to his feet, 'It's that girl from before.' He thought of interjecting, but the leaking bubble of rage from his Sensei kept him pressed into his seat.
"Where are your parents?" Izumi snarled, "Do they know you speak to your elders this way?"
The girl raised her hands in front of herself in defense, "I wasn't talking about you," her eyes shifted beyond Izumi, "I was talking about him."
"You're the girl from the platform," Al finally squeezed out.
Slowly deflating, Izumi held a suspicious look on the girl, "That was you. You watched us all morning at the station."
"Ah, yeah…" she looked down at her feet, her jaw remaining firm, "I didn't mean to stare, but you two have been bothering me for some time. I'm very confused because I don't think my memory is wrong. Things just aren't adding up!"
Izumi stepped back into her seat, puzzled by the girl's odd introductory statements, "If you have something to say to us, then sit for a moment," she motioned to the two empty seats facing them.
The girl sat down, brushing the front of her dress smooth as she did, "I'm sorry to intrude like this."
"You had something to ask me back at the station," Al blurted unintentionally, and was quickly taken aback by his own words. For the hours he'd spent since he'd gotten on the train, he'd done nothing but wonder what the silent question had been.
Izumi looked over to Al, "Do you know her?"
Al shook his head lightly, "We talked on the platform, but… no," he looked over to her again.
The teenage girl frowned a bit as she scratched her cheek, brushing her dark hair over one shoulder, her piercing eyes continually examining Al, "It couldn't be you anyways, things simply don't add up," she said abruptly and something in her gaze caused Al to tremble inside, "but still… your name, and your voice; they're familiar to me. Do you have a brother? Is his name Ed?"
Al heard the words in his head like her voice was calling to him from a outside the sealed glass jar. The sounds that could reach him echoed around his mind like the beating of a drum.
"Edward Elric? I think he's an alchemist? Are you?"
Al stared back at her, but could not see her, "I…" The train car stopped is constant vibration beneath him, the breeze from the window playing with the loosest ends of his hair ceased to exist, until finally the clouds stopped their merry travel in the crystal blue sky. Alphonse's mind refused to form a coherent thought as he stared back at her through this darkness.
Izumi promptly cut the line of communication that had begun to strangle Al, "Why do you ask?" she dawned a smile for the question, interlacing her fingers as she rested her chin on them.
The girl looked away from Al, "Almost 5 years ago, two alchemists came to our town. It's the town just next to where we got on the train. They weren't much older than me, but I'm certain their names were Ed and Al Elric and they helped me out of a 'situation' I had. It was something that was kind of hard to forget. After they left, my dad heard that one the boys who'd helped me ended up becoming a State Alchemist, but…" she looked at Al with her stern eyes, "your voice… the one who matched your voice… I could have sworn you were supposed to be at least six feet tall," she raised her arms above her head in demonstration of the height, "and I would have thought after 5 years and being so tall that your voice would have changed like boys voices do." She rambled on with nervous giggles, "he wore the oddest clothes too, I don't know why anyone would want to travel around in a suit of armour," her arms fell into her lap, "So you see, it makes no sense. Both those boys were older than me."
Izumi leaned back, lifting her arms to hang off the back of the seat, "Five years changes a lot. And coincidences do happen. Unfortunately though, you do have the wrong person," her voice had softened up to the wise Izumi Curtis voice that had so often given the boys some of their most profound information, "this boy is my son, Alphonse Curtis, he's my only child. I'm sorry dear."
The girl shifted uneasily in her place, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She began brushing her dress smooth again, "I'm sorry to have bothered you like this. Thank you though."
"I'm curious. What's your name?" Izumi smiled her mother's smile and with soft eyes she looked at the girl, "why are you traveling all alone?"
"Klose," she replied, brushing her hair behind her shoulders, "my dad has some leave time, but the terms of his leave meant he could only stay in Central. He left me with train tokens if I ever wanted to come visit."
"Ahhh your father's in the military?"
"He just signed on about 6 months ago because didn't want anything to do with the military recruitment when the wars and oppressions were going on. He despised the thought of what had gone on in Ishibal and Lior, but there was really nothing he could do about any of it. He volunteered when he was given the chance to help the Ishibal people rebuild and wanted to show support for the progress this country was trying to make. A few squadrons were sent to aide them in their rebuilding process, and my father felt it was the least he could have done to help them," Klose beamed proudly at the thought of her father's services - so much had changed in the world over the last few months.
Izumi smiled at her, "Your father is a good man."
"Yes, but," Klose put her hands on her knees, slowly rising to her feet, "I'm sorry, I should go back to my seat. I'm sorry to have disturbed you."
"You're overly apologetic, it's fine," Izumi waved to her as the girl moved swiftly back up to the front of the car.
Klose spun herself into her seat; her arms firmly folded across her chest, her left knee flung over her right. 'That lying old woman,' her thoughts glared out the window.
'Something's going on, I'm not that ignorant.'
--------
"Al?" Izumi spoke quietly, "Al?" she nudged him, yet his frozen expression focused on his faint reflection in the trains window. Izumi reached an arm around him but Alphonse rolled his shoulders in refusal of her touch. Again, she reached her arm around and wrapped her arm around his neck this time. Though he tried to duck away from her, she slid her fingers up the side of his face and held in his hair; nothing was said. Izumi turned, pulling his head against her chest and rested her cheek upon his downy hair, delicately releasing her grip in his hair. She brushed the tips of her fingers over his cheek gently as though trying to tell him something she knew her words couldn't reach.
A distant voice emerged.
"I remember when we sat out back with Roze and her baby; she told me the story about the Priest in Lior. She told me about Scar and Dante, she told me about a lot of things she knew. It was so unbelievably bizarre. The story had so much of myself in it, and I couldn't remember any of it. It was simply a story with my name in it, and nothing more. I have more connection to Den than I do with any of that," he took a moment to breathe and suddenly felt light headed. "When I woke up, Roze was there… she was the first one I saw. By the time I got to hear this story, I already felt like I knew Roze in some way at least. She could speak to me about things we'd done together and her voice meant something. I could understand her; she could understand me. Sheska was the same way, and she was only around for a few days. There was an understanding when I talked with them both. Yet, in the end, it was all a story with me that I felt no connection to. It was like some fictitious novel. The only thing that made it have some reality was when I looked at Winry and realized just how old she was," Al shifted in his place, relaxing in Izumi's arm, wishing for no one to see him, "I looked at this girl like she was just some girl on the train, and she looked at me like I was someone that possibly meant something important in her. It's cruel to be able to disregard an existence so easily. I didn't realize I was supposed to have cared. She could tell me about me and my brother; some part of a life that has nothing but a storybook significance in my mind. And the only thing… only thing I could remember about her…was…" Al trailed off, his voice unsuccessful in it's attempt to remain emotionless as possible.
Izumi glanced down to Al, unable to see his face, "What could you remember?" she asked quietly.
"I liked how her eyes looked in the sunlight."
"Paper, sir!"
Ed didn't even bother to open his eyes, "Shoo kid."
"I have copies of Weiner Tagblatt, Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, Angewandte Chemie, Weiner Zeitung! Come on!"
Edward swung his arm out freely and used the tips of his fingers to flick the child's oversized hat askew, "I told you to shoo, didn't I?" He cracked an eye open at the feeble skeleton of a child; a sweat drop ran down his face, the skin stretched on the child's body seemed to be a more pale grey than any shade of pink. The child's wide eyes stared back at him, the healthiest thing about it seemed to be the determination to sell a single newspaper. Ed picked his head up slowly from the ledge; "your papers are all German. I can get them at home. Sorry."
"Zeitung isn't!" The child shoved a thin and bent out of shape publication into Ed's face, "It's from Vienna! I promise."
Ed put a scowl on his face and fell back into his cabin room; moments later reappearing as he tossed a few Marks to the feeble child, "I'll take the Vienna paper, then go away."
The child thrust the paper into Ed's face as he marched along his daily pilgrimage of the train's platform, "Thank you for your patronage!" he called back.
Ed blinked, "Eh? Patronage?" He shook his head, uncoiled the paper and promptly slit his eyes. An eyebrow twitched as he scowled at the newsprint, "It's old!" he scratched his head vigorously as he tossed the paper aside, "I'm tired of reading about what new province and boarder they're making. I'll read an Austrian paper in a year, maybe by then they'll decide what part of the country to leave Vienna in," he flung himself down upon the seat and sprawled out best he could. Ed sank a bit into the light cushioning as he shut his eyes, his mind feverously running thru Goddard's works and manipulating his theories – something which had become ritual for him. He refused to accept his existence as it was; there was somewhere else he had to be. Yet, as he lay there, the harder he thought about Goddard's works, the more his concentration drifted, and the more an abused, distorted and painful memory played again in his mind.
"Ed?"
His cheek twitched.
"Ed…?"
Again he twitched and cracked his eyes open a slit open a bit. Beyond the cloud of his mind's eye he stared at a familiar face. He accepted it as if it were not out of place and rubbed his eye lightly before continuing to float around freely.
"Ed… you're alive?"
"Roze?" his eyes never opened wide enough for him to take in his surroundings, but he felt the bright lights beating down on his body. He knew where he was without a concern for the dance floor he lay on.
"Ed…"
He rolled his head more in her direction, feeling an unforgiving weight keeping him down, "what?"
"Al…"
He tried to open his eyes wider and clear the smog that would not disperse, "what… what about Al?" his strength would not come to him.
"Al…" the tone of voice giving away no concern and no promise of what would come if she continued the sentence.
"AL WHAT?" He screamed in frustration at the image. His arm shot forward and grabbed the image at her collar.
"SIR!" screamed the attendant standing over him.
Edward froze in place, staring back at the lady in horror. It took him a moment to realize what had just gone on and he quickly released the attendant, "I…" he staggered to an upright position, "I apologize for that, I'm… not paying attention."
The attendant stood back from him, "I'll bring you more water," her voice tried not to quiver, "the heat isn't good for everyone."
"Thank you," he said in a distant voice, brushing his sticky bangs off his sweaty face.
"But sir, I need your pass again. We're departing."
"Of course," Edward reached into his pocket and handed the lady his ticket, which she tore in half, stamping his half and returning to him. His eyes traveled outside his window as his shaken expression cut through the sky.
"This is only the train station," Izumi rolled her head around upon her neck, cracking it a few times, begging for this day to end, "pick up your bags!"
"Yes!" he picked them up in a snap, "Sensei! Are we staying somewhere? Are we going to look around the city? Centrals bookstores are full of Alchemy books aren't they? We should see what's new; maybe they can help us? Oh! Winry gave me a shopping list, can I see if I can get stuff here instead of in Rush Valley?"
Izumi's tired eyes rolled in amusement, 'You certainly don't stay upset for long', "I called for a motel room when we missed the train at our transfer station. We have to stay overnight, the next train to Dublith doesn't leave until the day after tomorrow."
"YEAH!" Al bounced.
Izumi swung a free arm forward, "Use that energy and let's find a driver, if all these people take cabs then we have to walk!" She had barely finished her sentence before Al was 10 strides ahead of her.
'I wish we didn't have to stay here that long,' Izumi thought as she followed behind, 'I don't like the idea of us being here. On top of Drachma causing headaches, I don't need to be seen around here.' She began her slow accent up the station stairs, 'Central's a big city… we'll be fine… huh?' Izumi looked up as she reached the top of the stairs. Al had stopped no more than thirty meters ahead, his bags on the ground at his feet. She narrowed her eyes at the scene in front of her, "Isn't that interesting."
"Well, it's good that you have time off to spend with your daughter," Al beamed as he brushed his hair out of his face.
"Where did you say you were going again? Dublith? I think I had a cousin once who lived there…" Klose's father tapped his chin, his military jacket unbuttoned to accommodate the heat.
"We are. But the train's departed already, so we have to wait a few days until the next one heads down that way. We have a motel for now," Al nodded affirmatively.
Klose ran her fingers thru the ends of her hair, "Papa, I don't think they'll have much luck getting a ride this time of day. Couldn't we drop them off at their motel?" she offered.
Al protested, "No, don't do that. Don't trouble yourselves like that, we'll be fine!"
"We'll be fine with what?" Izumi stepped up behind Al, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Papa, this is Al's mother, Ms. Curtis," Klose introduced her with a slight motion of her hand.
Al blinked at that, and Izumi gave a slight bow of her head, "I hope my boy isn't holding you up Ms. Klose… and… Sergeant Klose…"
Her father roared with laughter, "I'm property of my own daughter now. How disgraceful," the Sergeant clapped his hands together twice, "it isn't an intrusion Alphonse, I'd be delighted to take you and your mother to your lodge. Besides which, you should be shown the some of the highlights of the city if you have a day or so to look around. People's first impressions of Amestris are usually quite overwhelming. You shouldn't put an opportunity like this to waste. We should stop for something to eat along the way."
Izumi frowned slightly, an unease with the situation setting in, "I really don't think we should impose on you like this…"
Klose again analyzed their movements, her gut feeling telling her to be suspicious, yet entirely unsure as to why, "No really, we insist." Curiosity was getting the better of her, and she allowed Izumi to pick up on the lack of natural concern in Klose's voice. Izumi was not given a chance to eye the girl in return before her father again insisted upon being their escort.
Izumi glanced to Al before looking back at the Sergeant, "I suppose then, it would be an honour to have one of the military's finest show us around."
"That's a very lovely watch? Who's your craftsman?"
Edward looked up into the face of a bright young woman, not more than a few years older than himself. She tilted her head waiting for a response. Ed snapped the watch shut and responded to her blankly, "I made the design, one of my Father's associates had it crafted for me."
The presumptuous woman sat down next to him upon one of the many station benches; her short brown locks bouncing around her face, "I've never seen that sort of insignia before, is it a token from the war? Are you a soldier?"
Edward stared on at her confused. The woman had an instant mystique to her, as if she were some busybody who constantly knew more than she'd ever reveal. She dressed quite fine, her knee length tan jacket was tied perfectly at the middle, her hat sitting slightly aside to allow her spiral-curls to bounce with enthusiasm, the tops of her high-heeled boots hidden beneath the lengthy deep brown dress which flowed out from beyond her jacket.
"Um… kind of…. not really, it's more of a personal keepsake… for some old friends."
The lady's eyes widened, "Oh you're a wonderful friend! A keepsake of your friends who died in the war!"
"Huh?" Ed's mouth hung open with a confused look, unsure about how she mangled his statement and had come to that conclusion.
"I understand how that is. It's fine craftsmanship, the edging, the lines. I could tell from a distance it was something professionally made. You must have used the finest silver for it. How does it work? Do you wind it? Is it automatic?"
Edward suddenly chilled at the woman's line of questioning. He clenched his hand tightly over the watch as he felt a trickle of sweat run along his hairline, "What's your name?"
"Me?" The woman smiled enthusiastically, as if she'd been hoping for the topic to come up, "Mathilde. And what might yours be?"
"Edward," He examined the woman over carefully, looking for some clue that would reveal what was behind her self-created cloak, "Do I know you from somewhere?"
Mathilde crossed her legs over and leaned back upon the bench they shared, "Are you from Schässburg? Have you ever been there?"
Ed frowned, not liking being counter-questioned, and disliking even more her choice of cities, "I haven't… however I'm heading there." His watch still gripped in his left hand, though he freed up the index finger to flick the sweat away.
"You are? Well then if you were traveling 'from', instead of traveling 'to', my question would have been more helpful to us," the woman tapped her chin lightly as if she were playing a game, "how about Munich? Have you ever been there?"
"I live in Munich," he replied flatly.
Unfazed by Edward's lack of enthusiastic participation in her game, she continued on, "Oh! Have you ever been to the University there?"
Edward narrowed his eyes at suspicious nature of her questions, "My Father teaches there."
"Does he really?" Mathilde played up her emotions, "he must be a great man to be a professor at Munich's University! Goodness, what's his name?"
"Why do you want to know?" Ed retorted with his suspicious scowl, brushing another bead of sweat from his forehead.
"You're quite rude to girls, has anyone ever told you that?" Mathilde falsified anger as she snapped back at him, "it's no wonder you have no traveling companion." She stood up sharply and straightened her jacket, "why on earth would someone like you head to my home town? I can guarantee the bordello owners will kick you out if you disrespect the service. You aren't big enough to stand up against thos-."
A vein snapped upon Edward's forehead and he shot up like a fire cracker, "?"
Mathilde paled; her eye twitched slightly, "... Wh-..."
Edward thrust a finger into her face, his deep demonic voice booming out, "I've grown..."
"Tily!" a man's voice called from the distance. It cut Ed off before he could continue, "We're boarding!"
"I'll be right there!" the woman called stepping back from a fuming Edward. Her playful expression fell away and she looked upon him with the eyes of a woman mature beyond her age, "I hope you find what you're looking for in Schässburg. There have been some problems with rebel groups since we became Rumanians. Keep alert, won't you?" She spun upon her toes, tossing her hair from her face, and darted away.
Edward watched, mouth half open as she ran off into the crowds of people, "What… the…" he slowly rose his hand to his forehead and sat down with a sigh. The chain from his watch clattered on the bench as he put the silver watch into his pocket.
Kloze folded her arms with delight, "The Open Market Fair began a few days ago. All sorts of little shops; store owner's best product, sweets and candy, toys and games, gadgets for that girlfriend you were talking about."
Al's eyes widened in a childish horror, "Winry is not my girlfriend!"
"Awww," Klose teased as she walked along with Al into the market, "she sound so sweet though."
"Winry's six mo--years older than me!" he caught himself in his sentence, "it doesn't work!"
"Aw, that's so cute," she put a hand to her cheek before her eyes darted out to the side, "and that's so pretty." Klose turned on a dime and slid herself thru the pedestrian traffic towards a both.
The two of them had been set loose in the market place. A few blocks away, Klose's father had introduced the pair to a patio diner. The children had spent the dinner hour chattering about the amount of traffic they could see entering and exiting the market, and finally both guardians relented and let their children loose upon the facility.
"O-oi!" Al pushed past the people trying to reach Klose. The dirt path was soft beneath his feet – a remnant of the heavy rain the night before. Al slid awkwardly, his feet wanting to proceed in two different directions. A man's firm hand came upon his shoulder and pushed him aside. Al landed hard, with his hands and knees in the mud. Regaining his composure as quickly as he could, Al shot a glare up to a six-foot tall man who simply gave an empty, uncaring stare back. The sun-tanned face turned away from Al; his two right earrings refracting the filtered sunlight.
Al muttered to himself as he stumbled out of the way of the traffic, which never ceased it's continuous motion. Wiping the mud from his hands onto his jeans, he staggered to Klose who promptly held up her new possession, "the feathers won me over!" She held up a plain paper bag.
"…Feathers?" Al's face fell slightly as his head tipped.
"It's a pen! It looks like a dip pen, but it can store the ink too. Here watch," grabbing Al by the wrist, Klose pulled him to the side of the booth so they'd stay out of traffic's way. Brushing the booth's cloth-overhang aside, she placed the paper bag down and quickly pulled out a polished, black, pen stem and a new nib in the tip; a pair of purple feathers decorated the end of the pen.
She put the black ink jar on the edge of the table, "See you dip it in the ink jar like so, and just wait a few seconds." Klose looked up to see Al staring past her into the darkness. Judging by the look upon his face, he wasn't listening to what she had to say.
"Al!"
"Huh?" he blinked back into reality, "sorry."
"Okay," she grabbed Al's right hand and held his palm between them both. Al unintentionally flushed at her touch, wondering what she was doing, "then you simply take the pen and you can draw fluid circles over and over." In the palm of his hand she began to run the pen in her chosen pattern. Al watched her, his mind not focusing on what she was drawing. Before long, his distracted mind looked up from her art and back down the dark alleyway; something was moving around down there, he was certain.
"Al!"
"Huh?" he again shot his attention back to Klose.
Klose scowled back at him as Al let a sweat drop roll, "What are you looking at," she tossed his hand back to him and turned over her shoulder to look down the alley. She narrowed her eyes in an attempt to define the dark, grey objects that lay in the shadows, "what?"
Al stepped forward, picking up Klose's bottle of ink from the table, "I thought I could see something moving."
Klose placed her hands upon her hips, "I don't see anything moving… maybe you're just as tired as your Mother," she frowned, glancing over to Al.
"No really…" Al moved forward towards the alley, "I saw something." He stopped at the alley's entrance, placing his right hand upon the aging wall.
"A cat maybe?" Klose suggested.
Al shook his head, "This was too big."
"Then what-" Klose stopped in mid-motion, the shadows finally moving for her. Whatever it had been darted down to the end of the alley and around the corner of the building. Klose froze in step as a chill ran down her back. Al stepped back, bumping into her in the process. The two exchanged nervous glances before Klose's resolve set back in, "I've never been afraid of ghosts." She placed a hand upon Al's shoulder as she stepped into the alley beside him.
Al stayed half a stride ahead of her, clenching his left hand around the bottle of ink as they walked quietly into the darkness – his right hand trailing along the wall as if to make sure he could keep his sense of direction. He could hear the faint echo of their soggy footsteps as they stepped into the thin, low layer of mist that lived above the ground. Al gingerly stepped around a line of trashcans and garbage bags along the wall and looked back to see how Klose was dealing.
She glanced to him in response to his concerned look, and a hint of worry crossed her face as she chewed on her lower lip, "Well, come on," she urged hesitantly, "or do we turn back?"
Al looked past her to the bustling of people beyond the dealer's stand they were now tucked away behind. He caught the eye of an elder female peddler who marketed the stand across the pathway. The woman adjusted her grey bun upon her head, snatched up the whiskbroom that lay upon the tabletop – slapping it into her hand. Al's eyes widened with concern, suddenly wondering how much trouble he'd get into with Izumi if this elder lady were to deem them as troublemakers.
"Um, Klose…"
She shot her gaze towards the direction Al was looking. Klose had little time to react to the peddler's approach as the woman's head suddenly jerked violently to the side. Without getting close enough for the pair to have ever heard her voice, the elder woman toppled to the ground.
Both children's eyes shot wide, neither given enough time to comprehend what had just happened to this woman. Yet, instinctively, they grabbed their heads as the rapid succession of gunfire suddenly began to echo off the walls. Without a word to each other, nor a scream, they turned and ran down into the darkness of the alleyway.
The splashing of the children's feet pounding thru the murky layer in the alley was heard by no one. Frightened tears clouded their vision as they both slipped to their knees, having tried to take the sharp turn that the shadow had made moments before they'd began following him. Gripping the mud between their fingers, they clawed on hands and knees through the sludge until they were able to return to a balance upon their feet. Klose slapped her soiled hands over her ears, trying to drown out the sound of the gunfire. Although the sounds of people's screams echoed above all else, the pair only heard the encroaching gunfire. Al remained a stride ahead of Klose, and he looked up to an alleyway intersection. Suddenly even more frightened than before, Al skid to a stop, his feet sliding out from underneath him as if he'd just stopped upon a sheet of ice. Klose's right leg caught on his shoulder and she tumbled down to the ground next to him. They felt no pain from their fall, and they shot a wide-eyed gaze at each other before staring ahead at the intersection. Klose's hands trembled as she reached back for her ears again, the maddening gunfire and screams never ceasing to exist.
Did they dare challenge the corner of the alley each wondered. Neither knew who waited beyond, and neither wished to find out. Whatever courage they'd entered with lay shattered and soiled in the mud around them.
Shakily, Al began to rise to his feet again, but could not get up off his knees. Klose had begun to curl up – her forehead pressed against the soggy ground. Al reached out and grabbed her upper arm, trying to pull her upright. Her trembling began to transfer to his body, and again he looked down the alley.
The next thing either of them realized was the stench they suddenly found their bodies lying in. Suddenly blown from their position, skimming at great speeds along the ground – they had become projectiles thrown into the garbage bags lining a back walls, forcefully removed from their positions by an explosion within the building at their right. The trash and waste had cushioned them from a direct impact with the cement wall.
Al shifted within the debris, finding he could move in the mess well enough. Threads of sunlight filtered in around them. He felt Klose move beneath him and whispered to her, asking how she was only to receive a faint acknowledgement. Trying unsuccessfully to move again, Al sank deeper into the waste and sharp debris; he could feel his right side burning in pain from the explosion. Putting his right hand to the side of his head in search of blood, Al examined his findings in the filtered sunlight and promptly froze. His line of concentration instantly came into focus. Placing the jar of ink into his pocket, he cleared his palm of the spatters of blood and turned to face the wall they'd been thrown against.
"Klose," he said with an affirmative tone.
She tried her best to look up at him, catching only half of the stern expression on his face, "Al?"
He slammed his right palm against the cement wall. Klose's shriek from the light that blinded her became lost within the noise that engulfed the pair and she tried to curl away. Moments later, Klose felt Al's hand grab her under her arms and pull her forwards, through the wall. Once clear of the mess, both collapsed upon the ground; Klose lay upon her back for a moment, gasping for air, looking up at the arched hole in the wall. Chunks of concrete fell down into the gap where the two once lay. The two finally crawled further into the black room, darkened from lack of power.
"I'm okay," Klose finally insisted as she pulled herself upon her knees. Both sat in silence of each other's company; although the noise raged on outside, they could only hear each other's staggered breathing that they attempted to get under control.
"Klose?" Alphonse finally aired out.
She looked over at him as Al held up his palm, "Why did you draw this?" his question had a hint of all his circulating emotions; frustration, anger, exhaustion, delight, pride, and amusement.
Getting to her feet slowly Klose looked down at Al, "I saw your brother draw that once, didn't I?"
Al's expression fell; he looked up at her, unsure about the answer he should give. However, the fear of all that was going on around him would make the topic somewhat easier to explain.
"I only saw it briefly but I never forgot what it looked like. I saw it again in some books I browse through the first time I came to Central."
Al took his hand back and examined the transmutation circle drawn in his palm, "It's one of the most basic of all circles." Looking back up at her, Klose grabbed Al by his wrist and helped him back to his feet.
"Well, then I'm glad you haven't forgotten how to use it," her smile was the brightest thing in the room. Al stared at her with an expression hinting of nervousness, unsure if he should explain further. He could take her statement as an insult, or a complement: he was unsure which.
Klose shook her head dismissing Al's attempt at an explanation. Her brightness faded in the darkness as she looked towards the door, "We need to get out of here."
This chapter is "52" because the final episode of Hagaren was 51. If this story was independent of the main anime events I would have then labeled it "Chapter 1"
'Single quotes' indicate thoughts (you picked up on that, yes?).
There're too many ways to spell "Rizembool". Even Bones and Arikawa have spelt it differently more than once. This is the version I will use.
The official spelling of Klose is "Close" but I'll use the miss-spelt "Klose" version since it will be easier to recognize as a name.
