A/N: When Tool 2 and Forever Yours Zana's Productions combine their writing skills and ideas, the end product comes out to this…we shall be alternating between every chapter, Tool 2 has written the first one.
The Idea: This takes place around the time in between episodes 50 to halfway of episode 51. Instead of Ed going to Germany and such where the movie takes place, what if Ed ended up in present-day our world? This fiction entertains the idea, ignoring the events of the movie.
Background Information: Izumi Chido was born and raised in Tokyo, Japan where she later on owned a dojo where she taught the martial arts and so forth. She married her first husband Sig, but after three years they got divorced because Izumi wanted to have children and he didn't. Following the divorce, she moved to America (NYC) where she met and fell in love with Roy Mustang whose work with the government is still a secret up to this day. Izumi remarried and since she was barren and could not have any kids of her own, she adopted two kids (a brother and sister) named Evan (who goes by Envy) and Tessa (who goes by Wrath).
The Mustang Family currently lives in the rich, Upper East Side of the city where Izumi is a teacher at Evan's high school. Evan is currently seventeen years old in the eleventh grade while Tessa is twelve and in the seventh grade.
Disclaimer: Tool 2 nor Forever Yours Zana do not own FMA or among any other things. This disclaimer applies throughout all chapters.
Warnings: Alternate Universe, Yaoi/Shonen-ai, Language, Spoilers (for those who haven't watched the whole series, perhaps?), crack amongst other things…you've been warned.
Rewrite
Chapter 1: On The Other Side
"Are you alright?"
The voice echoes within my mind (it feels hollow). Am I even alive? How can I say I'm alright if I'm dead (or in the gate? On the other side…?) The last thing I remembered was sacrificing myself (body, soul, limbs, rip it all off) just to bring Al back. I remember seeing his face, his eyes, his broken smile before it all went black, eternal night clouding my vision as I could feel The Gate's tentacle hands and laughing eyes pull my naked body in.
The bite of concrete dug into the side of my face. Cold air stings the inside of my nose. "Are you okay?" the voice says again, more slowly as if talking to a stupid child (my childhood was lost, stolen). I find strength within me to finally open my eyes and face whatever I had to deal with. I saw a person wearing a blue uniform.
Oh God, the military! Did this mean that I was still in my world? Will they arrest me for trying to save Al…question what we were doing with the Philosopher's Stone…Dante and the homunculi…?
"I'm fine," I said to her, "I-I need to get my brother." Before the man could say anything, I found myself running off, pushing through crowds of people. From quick glances, I could tell that I was in fact, not in my world…not even the place where those…those zeppelins moved throughout the starry sky like the horrendous monsters of war that they were. The streets and sidewalks were paved in slush. Bright lights temporarily blinded me. The air smelled foul and even the automobiles looked different; shiner, less rounded and more…sharp. This place was nowhere.
I spotted an alleyway. The sky grew shadowy and dancing white flakes of snow fluttering down. I sunk to the ground and clapped my hands together, trying to bring up walls from the cement, a roof (some kind of shelter, it's so fucking cold) but there's no electric blue light. Nothing happens.
"…What…?" My voice cracked and I furrowed my eyebrows. I clapped again and again (Insanity is when you do the same thing over and over and expect different results), slamming my still-metal right hand into the flesh one, praying to a God that I didn't believe in until full realization slapped in the face.
Alchemy. I couldn't use it in this world.
My stomach lurched. I was trapped in this desolate wasteland (naked, as I now noticed) with no alchemy. Whatever was in my stomach rose up and I forced out the disgusting contents. I threw up until my body was heaving, struggling for breath, my throat on fire. Shakily, I stood back up, stumbling onto the sidewalk. The people walking along were bundled up in coats, their shoulders hunched around their ears as the modern-looking cars swished past in packs. I started screaming, "AL…Al, Al, Alphonse…!!!"
The citizens hurry along, staring as if I were (which I am) crazy. "AL, where are you? Are you here? Al…I-I need you…!" (He was my balance, the keeper of my sanity).
Another one of the people in the blue uniforms came out of her car and approached me. Her eyes shone with concern, "Excuse me, but are you lost?" I grabbed onto her shoulders desperately (she almost reminded me of mom), "I'm not suppose to be here…I…I don't belong here have you seen my brother, he should look just like me…"
She only smiled and removed her coat, placing it on my body, "Here, why don't you come with me? I can find you a warm place for the night…you can file a missing person's report for your brother in the morning…but for right now, you need some rest…it's already night time." I went inside of her car and she drove me to a shelter before leaving me there. My entire body felt numbed.
I heard a baby cry (jogged my memory of Rose's child born from rape).
The people were unclean. They smelled.
Their clothes were ratty with holes that revealed skin of pale, yellow, and brown tones.
I settled into a corner after being given clothing (I refused the food) and closed my eyes, drifting into a dead sleep.
XOXOXOXO
Morning arrives and I awake. My head is throbbing painfully. The voices around me are too loud. I sat up with a bowl of what looked like oatmeal. The scent makes me want to retch; my stomach is probably shrinking. The baby is still wailing. A little boy calls for his mother. The bile starts to rise up my throat again and I found myself leaving this place just to spew the bitter liquid into a gutter. Mummers of disapproval reached my ears. "Shut up," I told them quietly, getting up, trudging forward until I ended back up in that that same alleyway from the night before. The snow pricked along my bare feet before I sat back into the snow, shivering. The guilt decided to eat away at the rest of me (what's left of me now?)
Everything was my fault. Rose had that baby (through rape) because I caused Liore to act against the military when I exposed Cornello. I created Sloth; I killed Sloth which caused Wrath to hate me more (she was my mother, not yours…). Hughes's death was my fault. My birth was a driving force behind Envy's hatred because I 'stole' what he was never given. Everything that happens to everyone is always my fault. Maybe they're all better off without me. (Murderer…)
I'm tired again, cold. Perhaps some more sleep would let me awake to know that this is some sick nightmare and not my own personal hell from God.
XOXOXOXO
It's the smell that hits me first.
I sat up and everything hurts. It's morning, but what day is it?
I bit down on my dry lip and immediately I tasted blood. I sniffed the air once before taking some of my hair and took another sniff. It smelled like piss and it's pretty damp. Shit, some bastard pissed on my hair.
But I'm too numb to get truly angry or really care. I noticed the coat that I was wearing was missing. Double shit, someone pissed in my hair and stole my coat.
I stood up and wobbled over to a corner and unzip my fly and lean my forehead on the wall for support. I can tell I'm burning up because the brick is deliciously cold for me. I zip my pants up again and go back to where I was sitting and slide down the wall.
"This is just a nightmare...it has to be...everything will work out," I told myself before falling asleep again.
Self-sustaining system bit her in the neck and quick and kissed her and took all she got.
Days are passing without meaning. I slept more and became sicker, my belly cried out for the nourishment that I would not provide.
One day I saw a girl walk into the alley. Her round face was red with cold and her dark hair was back in a bun. She was wearing a school uniform under her toggle coat. She took a camera out of her bag. Twisting the lens a bit, she aimed it at me. I stare back at her. Click. I barely blinked. "Thanks." She bowed her head and scampered back to her friends, a group of giggling girls.
Half the time I can't feel. Please don't pity me.
Everyday, the same girl came and left me something, but I kicked it back to her. I don't need pity. Everyday she looked so heart broken as she picked the blanket or coat or food off the ground.
One day she came into the alley, sobbing. At my feet, she dropped a packet of paper and ran away before I could give it back.
It was actually about three pages, stapled together. On the cover was the picture she took of me. It was called 'Homeless Boy'. Written in red pen was some kind of comment.
AJ, the story was very good. But I specifically said that the topic was what you want your future to be like. I have no choice but to fail you.
Why did she want me to have this? Did she feel guilty that she had used me to try and get a grade? I felt angry. AJ, or whatever her name was, should have known that you weren't supposed to write about random homeless boys who smelled like shit and came from another world entire left to rot in a purposely made hell.
The girl never came back after that.
Let Live.
I fell asleep, but this time much longer. Last time I fell asleep, it was sunny. Now there's clouds and about to snow again. At least in this world I could understand their language and writings; I read the forecast in a newspaper thrown my way.
I've grown disgusting. I've soiled myself numerous times in my sleep and I'm so thin. I've had to tighten my belt about a billion times. My hair has gone from sunbeam blond to a dirty, stringy yellow. I eat the snow in the alley to please my growling stomach (I'm hungry). My belly is permanently in knots and I'm dizzy. I'm too weak to get up; to beg for money or a home. "Alphonse," I whispered as the tears I've been holding back all this fell in fat droplets, lost in the snow, "Damnit Al…I miss you…"
I've got a hunger. Twisting my stomach into knots.
I'm sitting as usual, not really sleeping. I have this in-between state. I don't need to close my eyes because I'm not necessarily asleep and I'm not necessarily awake. I just hover.
A grubby woman comes with a cart filled with junk appeared. "This is my alley. Mine. Not yours." She gabbles on, reaching in her cart. "G- get out. My alley." She pulls out a knife.
I sigh and raise my automail hand slightly. She catches sight of my metal and lets out a terrified scream, bolting away with the noisy wheels on the cart creaking.
I look at my hand. (I'm a monster).
The sickness is taking over. I can feel my cells expand and my veins sizzle with poison. I'm dying. It would only be a matter of time.
I don't have anything witty to say. So go away.
Laughter wakes me once again, deep, mean laughter. I opened my eyes.
"You're a cute one," a man's voice said in amusement.
I glare with the little strength I have, "Small too," he continued. I'm too tired to get mad. "Can fit into small spaces, could help us get steal the good stuff…her body to make cash on the side too…" said another voice, another male.
What were they getting at…? I wasn't a girl…
"So what do you say? Wanna come with us?" I couldn't see his face well. I croaked, wanting to say no, but the words didn't come out. "We'll give you a night to think about it." The voice said and I heard the two of them walk away.
But I've already made my choice.
Idiot
They came back the next day. I was hoping they wouldn't.
"So chica (1)," The voice says, "have you decided?"
"N- No," I mumbled out, "d-don't wanna…fuck off…"
"What was that?" The voice sounded angry. "What was that, you homeless, crippled bitch? Speak up!" "No," I said more clearly, but my voice sounded as if it was being scrapped against a cheese grater.
"Not the right answer, punta (2)." I heard the crack of knuckles, but the meaning doesn't register in my mind until seconds later when the first blow hits my face. I don't feel it, but I know it's there; a blossoming bruise, maybe a fractured cheekbone. The next is to the stomach.
I'm gasping for air. So many more come. They don't seem to be afraid of my automail like that woman with the knife was. I want to laugh at them; tell them that this is nothing compared to what Envy did to me; compared to the pain of having your limbs ripped away. I want to tell them that I was dead. What they're doing to me doesn't hurt so it must be a dream-
Ow. Me and my big mouth. I'm hurting all over suddenly, but the fists are gone. I hear a woman yelling. I hear retreating footsteps, mutters of mujer estupdia, vieja (3). I felt familiar arms pick me up, "Are you alright?" I couldn't believe my ears, that voice...
"…Teacher..?"
"That's what I'm called," she replied. I'm glad to hear her voice, so glad. But she looked different…her hair was loose, albeit, shorter and her eyes and smile held more warmth, less of the strict angles I was use to seeing.
I heard footsteps, knowing that she was taking me out of this alley. "Momma! What happened? Who is that?" I hear a little girl's voice but when I looked, all of the color drained out of my face.
"Calm down Tessa…Evan, get out your cell phone…call an ambulance and then call Roy, we might be getting a new addition to the family if my guesses are right…"
"Whatever." The second voice makes my blood freeze. "Why don't you adopt all the baby girls in China while you're at it, mother…" It's Envy…and it's Wrath. They're here to kill me…they followed me and yet…it couldn't be…Wrath looked different as did Envy…what was going on? I'm so confused…why did he just call my teacher mother…?
"How old is this kid?" Envy asked, looming over me. His hair was pure black as were his clothing. There were chains on his pants. "He's too skinny for his height and looks like a seven year old…like a little pipsqueak…he's pretty beat up though…" His voice faded out along with Teacher's and Wrath's face. I lost consciousness, fearing what I would have to deal with when I had to wake back up.
Hopefully, I would never wake again.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
(1)- I know chica means girl in Spanish, but chico wouldn't sound right. Ed looks a bit like a girl to be truthfully honest because he has smaller from lack of food and long hair so it was an honest mistake that those gang people mistook him for a girl.
(2)- Bitch in Spanish
(3)- Stupid Woman; Old Woman/Hag in Spanish
A/N: There's the first chapter. It may be slightly slow-paced, but the story will pick up from here? How will Ed's reaction to everything be when he wakes back up? What's with the woman who looks like his beloved Teacher and not-so-loved Colonel not to mention one of his enemies switched genders?
Read and Review, constructive criticism is always a big help and we would love to hear what you think.
Ja ne!
