G to FMA Moments
AN: A real mixture of anime and manga, reimagining both of them into one. Manga more for some things, anime more for others.
It had all happened too fast, he knew afterwards, to even be able to remember.
There was the normal feeling of waking up, of being on the cusp of reality and dreams, except his mind was in disarray and memories scattered. His body felt strange, almost disconnected. . . but not. More like as if it wasn't actually really his body at all.
Then he was dragged under the waves of unconscious bliss once again, not to dwell on the idea until the next time he awoke.
As it happened, the next time he was awake he wasted most of the time not thinking of anything at all. For some reason, it seemed less painful.
When he finally was aware and awake enough to open his eyes, everything seemed sharper, his skin more sensitive to the slightest touch, no matter how light. He could hear clearly, ears noticing the faintest of sounds.
Such as that of what sounded like footsteps heading his way. While his tired apathy caused him to not be afraid or attempt to escape, his innate curiosity made him stay awake to find out more. Who. What. Why.
They seemed to stop, one at a time, outside of the room – or would it usually be called a cell? It was small, he knew that much – and it was enough for him to tell that there were three.
". . . so this is him, then?" asked one voice. It was deep, but not gravelly. Perhaps an older man.
"What – that one? Hmph. If you ask me, he should have been called Sloth."
The voice was female this time, with a lazy air of sensuality behind it, though eh didn't feel affected.
The third snorted. It was almost laughter, but there was a bite of something else, as well.
"Good thing it's not you in charge of this one then, huh? Don't think Sloth'd be too pleased if you replaced her like that, either!"
In speech, the voice was easy-going, seemingly taking some sort of sadistic glee in most of the things he said.
The older male voice gave a single bark of laughter, paused, then spoke again.
"Are you certain that the Master would be pleased, that we haven't all been playing against her? I would not be a part of any conspiracy of yours."
"No worries. I've got it all under control, and –"
"What about how he was made? Rather unorthodox method, you've got to admit that."
"Feh. . . nothing strange has happened so far."
"He hasn't even woken up yet," the woman put in. Not entirely true, but they didn't need to know that.
"Sheesh, does that even matter? Eh, fine. We'll deal with it all as we get to it. If he's weird, he's weird. If he isn't, we can keep him, right?"
"What is it with you and that guy, anyhow?"
A grin could be heard in the third voice's next words, even though they grew fainter as the speaker walked back away from them.
"Nothing. Just wanna see the look on the old bastard's face... that's all."
With the third speaker gone, the others went not too long after.
Having heard the conversation, he had tried to stay awake for longer in order to be able to digest what he had learned from it. For the most part, he succeeded. He didn't learn anything more by thinking about what he had heard, though – not remembering enough of his life before the small enclosed space gave him nothing to work from, with or against.
On the other hand, it caused him to be awake and up enough that his activities were noticed, even if the passing of time wasn't.
The three people who had spoken outside of his room before had often come back after that time, although it may have simply been that he was aware to hear them come back.
None of them had ever spoken; it was normal for them to just come and go as they pleased, gawking at him for minutes on end as though he were some sort of new pet dog they had picked up off of the street. Then again, who would want to speak to someone who wouldn't even hear them? If they believed that he was asleep most of the time, that was probably the reason why.
This time though, the footsteps led their way up to the door and stopped there. A key turned in a lock. The door swung inward. A figure appeared in the exit way, taller than him, paler, with violet eyes and spiked green-black hair held back behind a headband. They were dressed in a top that left their arms and stomach open, and some sort of skirt and shorts. Both were black. So were the heel-less and toe-less socks that they wore on their feet and the cloth bracelets they wore on their wrists.
Smirking, they were leaning up against the frame of the simple door, watching him as though he were some sort of entertainment. He frowned, and the other's smirk grew wider. Now scowling, he crossed his arms in a show of defiance at the blatant staring, but this did not help matters. He opened his mouth, only to find that it was remarkably hard to speak after what must have been a very long time without having to. Almost as though his muscles were learning how to be used for the first time again. In the end, he did work it out, though.
"What. . . the hell are you doing. . . staring at me like that?"
The wide smirk exploded into a gale of not entirely friendly but definitely amused laughter. The figure held his side with one hand and his head with another.
"Heh. . . I should've known one of the things you'd always keep would be your great way with people, otouto."
His eyes widened at the realisation that it was Voice Number Three who was speaking to him and his manner of address towards him, narrowed at his familiarity and assumptions.
"I'm not your brother." He paused to breath, clenching his fist for still feeling weak. "Get out."
The figure – Voice Number Three – leaned in close, his eyes narrowed and his mouth smirking.
"And how exactly do you know that, chibi-chan, when you can't even remember your own name?"
He flinched back as if struck.
"I. . . do. Just do. Get out."
They frowned, but turned to do so, but by the time they had reached the door, almost about to close it, a spark of . . . of something, hit him, fired him up, irritated his very being. Made him speak out.
"And don't call me that!"
The figure froze. One hand on the door and the other trawling through palm-tree spikes, as though painted or sculpted there. Breathing heavily, even though he felt he didn't really need to, he watched from on the bed, fists clenched still after the inexplicable outburst.
The tableau was broken when the green-haired figure turned around slowly, to reveal that he was wearing a massive grin that reached just about from ear to ear.
"Sure thing, otouto-chibi-chan!"
With that – and leaving him fuming in the meantime – they left.
In the coming few times when they and the others came to visit, he could hear an unmistakable spring in the third speaker's – green-hair's – step. All it did for him was to put him into a foul mood whenever he heard it.
AN: Okaay. There's the first one of this little series. Inspired by the Bluebird's Illusion game (which I haven't played and from what I've heard of it, I don't want to), yet very, very different. For one thing, I've merged the anime and manga universes in a way that's all my own. Mostly because while I like the premise of the anime... I've never watched most of it. ^_^;
The sins have been shoved around a bit, a mixture of manga and anime. This'll be expanded upon shortly.
Re-readers will notice that this Author's Note has been shortened substantially. Previous details were going to have been either spoilers or misleading. Sorry.