So I decided to use Ed's god-complex, added some Ed and Win here and there, spiced it with some fluff and tragedy, stuck everyone in the FMA world into an alternate universe, and tada! This is what I got.
Yeah, I'm trying a different approach with this fic- yes, it's another AU. Initially, I was going to make this an Inuyasha fic, but some EdWin fanart got me motivated.
Alright, so here it is. It's all Edo' point of view. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: If you recognize any of the characters, then NOT MINE!
Ch.1: Once Upon a Sunday
I would start off with 'Once upon a time,' but to be honest, I don't really believe in such a thing. One would use that introduction for a fairytale, a story with an inevitable happy ending, no matter how grueling the preceding events were. They're fantasy myths, as I call them, a spark of creative thinking from a wild imagination, surpassing the standards of reality.
It's amazing how people can come up with so many stories with the same plot, recycling it to sound different from the rest, but in the end, it remains undistinguished. I don't know what it is that makes once upon a time and fairytales so compelling. That's a mystery beyond my thinking, and it doesn't do me any good to try to solve it or to believe that mysteries are truths hidden in lavished secrecy. Besides, no one's life is a perfect fairytale. Mine included.
For some unknown reason, Sunday is the worst day of the week for me. I was somehow cursed with an unending wave of bad luck that washed on shore and took me away with the tide. I don't know what I did to make every damn Sunday hell on earth; each one came as horrible as the last.
As if on queue, the morning sunshine burst brightly into my room, exactly thirty minutes after ten. I would have groaned, rolled over in bed and finish catching up with some sleep, but it was right then and there when it hit me: my first class had started exactly half an hour ago. It had only been a month of teaching at the University of Central as a science professor, and showing up late for a class would not leave the best impression at all.
I practically sprang out of bed, and dashed around for some clothes to throw on. I stuffed the ungraded papers into my bag, frantically searching for my shoes as the clock ticked away wasted seconds. With no time to redo my tousled ponytail, I ran out of the door with enough profanity to leave anyone breathless.
I hoped to catch a taxi, but as I whipped out my wallet, I realized public transportation would be financially impossible; it was miserably and completely empty. I cursed this cloud of bad luck hanging over my head, discovering that I had one alternative left: I would have to run.
So I did. Painting the sidewalk with more colorful language, I aggressively pushed my way through the herds of people. I was at an advantage; with two prosthetic limbs- automail it's called- everyone cleared the path in hopes of not getting hit with the metal parts. Now let me tell you something about automail, it's not the most grueling thing you could ever ask for. I had lost my real limbs a few years back in an accident that swept by in an instant blur. Recovery was so damn difficult and frustrating; I had to learn the basics- teaching my new fingers to move, walking in coordination with both legs. I have to be careful with the machinery since there aren't many mechanics around, or any that know how to deal with automail. If there's one little tweak with the stuff, I have to do some intensive searching for repairs. Oh hell, don't even get me started with repairs. They're a pain in the ass.
Somewhere down the way, the sound of bells rang in the air, clamoring to a melody composed by the rope puller. I looked ahead to where a crowd was dispersed outside a church. They probably had just gotten out of mass, or whatever it's called. I haven't the slightest clue what they do in there, or why they attend this mass.
Being an atheist, I'm not very big on religion. You see, I'm not much of a believer in God, and I don't understand how people can put so much faith in this superior being. It's illogical; if there really was a God, then why is there so much suffering in the world? Pain, anguish, despair- why do these things exist? People use this excuse of there being a god for a panacea from the turmoil inflicting this world. Salvation and eternal life are just myths, the idea of a Heaven, a lie. Call me sinner, call me a morally wrong person, I don't care. To me, religion is like a fairytale, fluffed up and sugarcoated to give everyone the better perception of reality.
A massive crowd of church attendees began to accumulate on the sidewalk, talking and conversing about their social lives and the meaning of today's Gospel. Despite my rather polite demeanor, they all seemed oblivious of the words, "Excuse me," and, "Pardon me, please", so I had to push my way though. On accident though, I knocked over an altar boy, sending him and his white robes into a puddle of overnight rain water. I felt bad for doing that, but with time breathing down my neck, I couldn't stop for an apology. You have no idea how many glares I received in those few seconds.
It's a miracle how I lived to see tomorrow with my little escapade, unscathed from the ongoing traffic and my illegal pedestrian motives. Panting and sweating, all that risk-taking did get me where I had to be. I ran onto the campus, too much in a hurry to take in the scenery that gives this place its unique feeling, like you could never find anywhere else on this planet that could capture its beauty.
I burst through the hall doors, my feet echoing on the floors as I rushed down the halls. Past the wall filled with pictures of past alumni, and the brimming trophy case, I nearly collapsed when I reached the door to my classroom. Lacking oxygen, I held onto the knob for support so I can catch my breath.
Suddenly out of nowhere, a bell shouted. Doors swung open, students trudged out, class had ended. I nearly fainted from lack of air and that feeling I get after doing something for absolutely nothing.
"Edward, Edward," a voice sneered as the person I was least wanted to see strutted out of my classroom.
"Mustang," I remarked, facing my opposition, "don't even get me started."
If you were to search low and high for the most pompous bastard to walk this earth, come to this university and you will find him. Roy Mustang. Arrogant and proud, he'd always talk about how he would change the school if he were the one in charge, throwing afterthoughts of 'If I were Headmaster this,' or 'If I were Headmaster that.' It gets on my nerves, especially after hearing all his bullshit day after day, it gets old.
"I had to sub for you today," Roy said. "You're lucky. If I were Headmaster-" See, what did I tell you? - "you'd have to start looking in the newspapers for a new job."
"But you're not, so," I patted him on the shoulder, feigning a sympathetic smile, "keep dreaming."
He chose to ignore this, and switched gears to verbal abuse. "You look like you got dressing tips from a hobo."
I opened my mouth to retort on his sleazy attire, but Riza Hawkeye, another professor at this school, stepped in. She's Roy's daily reminder to keep in track with everything, and whenever he starts straying off the road, she's there to tow him back in. She never really smiled much, not even a little bit; all I ever saw on her face was that same stern, intimidating look. In my opinion, I think Roy could be the one to bring that small smile, but that's just me.
"Mustang, sir-" Now, when she addressed someone as 'sir' or 'madam,' she always meant business- "the Headmaster would like to speak with you."
Roy smirked as though talking to the Headmaster would guarantee him some degree of recognition. "Don't be late next time," was the piece of advice he had to offer before walking off with Riza.
I rolled my eyes. "Jerk."
"Brother," another voice said from behind. "You're a little late, don't you think?"
"A little is a bit of an understatement," I replied, facing my younger brother, Alphonse.
Well, everyone just calls him Al around here, including myself. I mean it when I say that he is the most selfless person you will ever meet in your lifetime. I swear, he's one of those people who are just naturally kind-hearted, and does things just because. It's so rare to find his personality now days, that he might as well be a collector's item.
We're just a year apart with enough poignant memories to tell as bedtime stories. We've gone to hell and back, from the death of our mother at childhood, to the abandonment of a so-called father when times were rough. But despite it all, we managed to immerge from the wreckage with a few bumps and bruises. Little did we know, however, that the gates of Hades had opened once more, unleashing its hounds for another bite.
"What'd you do?" Al asked, noticing my wayward appearance. "Oversleep?"
"Yeah," I grumbled. "Not only that, I found out I was flat-out broke so I couldn't catch a taxi. God, I hate Sundays." It was then my stomach let out an angry protest for being forgotten. "Oh shut up..."
Al chuckled as he took out his wallet, counting up some money and handing it to me. "Here, go out and get something to eat."
I stared at the bills as though I were holding the secret to life in my hands. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, and don't worry about having to pay me back, ok brother? Now go get something to eat before you pass out. As for me," he held up a stack of papers, "I have to start grading these before they start piling up."
I told him I would see him later as he disappeared down the hallway. Al's the best brother out there, I swear, he really is.
So I did what Al advised and bought a sandwich from a nearby deli. I devoured it within seconds, but bad luck hit me again, cutting me short fifty cents from what I owed. The waitress was nice though, she didn't make such a big deal of the situation, which saved me from some unneeded embarrassment.
There's this place in the park I like to visit whenever time permits me to. It's this spot next to the lake with a garden in full bloom; there's a willow tree too, providing shade and an escape from the blistering weather. To me, it's like a place close to nirvana; it has enough peace and quiet to trigger some tranquility in this loud city of Central.
I wandered into the haven right after I ate, and settled myself on the bench that's there. I opted not to grade the papers there were long overdue, relishing instead the forgotten newspaper next to me. I took it, curiously flipping the pages to see what headlines were being made a big deal of. A girl's shouts drifted with the swift breeze, but I heed no notice. I grew bored after a while with reading the damn paper, so I put it back where I found it. And as I did, the most peculiar thing caught me by surprise.
Two pairs of gleaming blue eyes blinked at me from under the bench. I jumped up as a little boy poked his head out. He was a youngster, no older than ten but no younger than six, with curling brown hair, and a face sprinkled with freckles. There was this unexplainable morose look settled in his expression; it was almost as though he had forgotten how to smile.
"Hi mister," he said, rubbing his nose. "You're sitting on my bench."
"Am I?" I asked, stepping away from the uncharted territory. "I'm sorry, I didn't know this bench belonged to anyone in particular." I squatted, peering at this child curiously. "Say, what are you doing down there?"
"Watching the clouds," he pointed to the white-splashed sky.
"Can you see from down there?"
The boy nodded, conversing no longer as his eyes gazed to the blue heavens above. I looked up as well, watching a white cloud making its way on the endless highway.
"Hey, what's your name?" I don't know why, but I was fascinated with this kid.
The boy bit his lip, contemplating whether or not to reveal his identity or lie with a fake one, but after a moment's silence, he did neither. I was about ready to ask him something else when a call pierced the air, a woman's voice, frantic with worry and concern.
A small 'uh-oh!' escaped the boy's lips as he ducked underneath the bench. I had no idea what the hell was going on or why he was hiding to begin with.
"Don't tell anyone I'm here," the boy whispered, adding a polite, "Please." The voice called again and he went back into concealment.
The bells from city hall sounded, signaling the strike of noon. I had another class in half and hour and it was not on my agenda to be late for this one.
"Hey kid, look I have to-"
I turned around to see a woman in front of me. Like long, blonde strands of silk, her hair flowed down her back, contrasting with the fair complexity of her skin; her cheeks kissed by a shade of pink, lit up, giving her face a natural vibrance. The engagement ring on my left finger weighed heavily, and I knew I shouldn't have noticed, but what hypnotized me the most were her eyes. The light sparkled in them as though it were gleaming off the surface of the ocean, sapphire and deep, much like the little boy's...
"So, have you seen him?" she asked, clipping me out of my thoughts.
"Sorry, I don't understand your question. Have I seen who?"
"A boy, he's about this tall with brown hair and blue eyes," she wrung her fingers nervously. I could tell she was downright worried. "And he has freckles too..."
My suspicions grew to the fugitive underneath the bench. I knew I wasn't supposed to give away the whereabouts, but that look on her face was enough to surrender the oath.
"You might want to look over there," I gestured towards the bench. She gave me a peculiar look as she leaned over, discovering the lost one.
"Jonathon!" she exclaimed in half-fury, half joy. "I've been looking all over for you- young man, get out of there this instant!" Slowly the boy emerged, knowing he was in deep trouble. "You got me so worried! Don't ever, ever think about doing something like that again, is that clear?"
She suddenly burst out in a small coughing fit, which was quickly disregarded as she asked again, "Is that clear?"
As this was going on, I tried to decipher the relations between these two. They didn't exactly look like siblings- Perhaps they were cousins? No, maybe she's his babysitter-?
Jonathon shook his head, shame keeping him from looking her in the eye. "Yes, mom..."
Mom? She's a mother? Well, there's a big 'OH' for you. She's young though, probably the same age as me-
"I'm so sorry if he bothered you at all," she apologized, clipping me out of my wonderings once more.
I waved the matter aside. "No need to apologize- he wasn't a bother at all!."
"Really now?" she glanced down to her son, who was busy scrutinizing his untied laces. "Well, thank you so much for helping me find him."
"It's no big deal..." I trailed off, hoping she'd complete the sentence. Fortunately, she did.
"Oh, I'm Winry," she said, holding out a hand. "Nice to meet you...?"
"Edward," I held out my right hand as well. She didn't take it though; instead with wide eyes, she stared at my automail. Whether she was fascinated or not, I felt uncomfortable and shoved my hands into my pockets.
"You have automail?" Winry said, her face glowing in adoration. I nodded apprehensively at her ardent enthusiasm.
"Mommy's a mechanic," Jonathon piped up, his blue eyes shining proudly.
I've never met a female mechanic, and, even though we just met, I was starting to think highly of this girl. "Are you really?"
Winry eyed me suspiciously, looking as though she were expecting a different reaction. "Well, yes, but you... you don't think it's, you know, weird?"
"Am I supposed to?" I took my hand out from my pocket. "You look like you know more about this stuff than any other mechanic I've gone to. Do you have a shop or anything?"
"Yeah, it's down Benson Street- you should stop by sometime if you ever need a repair."
"I will," I assured her as I snuck a peek at my watch, which ticked away at thirteen after twelve. "It looks like I have to go, but I will swing by sometime, Winry."
"Alright, Edward," she grinned, Jonathon waving from behind. I waved in return, making my way onto the sidewalk once more as I joined the lunchtime rush. It was right then and there when a thought hit me: perhaps, repairs wouldn't be such a pain in the ass anymore.
So, there you go!
Whatcha think? Please review and tell me what you think! Reviews are helpful and make me happy.
So who's Edo engaged to? That and some other good stuff'll be revealed in the next chappy!