Disclaimer: I do not own 'Fullmetal Alchemist' and 'Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood'. 'Fullmetal Alchemist' and 'Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood' belong to 'Hiromu' Hiromi Arakawa.
"Nihao ma," Al greeted politely, a bundance of bright smiles. "Hen gao renshi ni," He bowed swiftly, nodding his head rhythmically to those nearby, to those who brushed past him. A sea of dark hair, a room of many babbling mouths and handsome Quipao and Tangzhuang. The night was young, cool in it's breath, bringing a soft, welcoming draught to the stuffy, crowded hall. The rhythmic hum of the chanting of foreign words, of conversation and debate drifted through the room, overpowering the soft, harmonious play of a choir of lutes.
The gentle scent of the spices and sauces, wafting to the taste of a delightful collection of perfumes combined to make a delicious, overpowering sensation that tickled at Al's nose, stomach growling. The hall itself was a masterpiece, a gallant ivory and gold palace of red carpets, high ceilings and stained glass. Neatly arranged tables stood humbly, accompanied by smooth, cushioned chairs to which many a Xingese sat upon; eating, laughing, arguing.
Al gently pushed on through the crowd, he chuckled, feeling his chest squeeze in happiness.
How would've thought?
Only two years ago was he bound as a soul inside a case of steel amour; unfeeling, cold, alone.
Only two years ago was he stick thin; dying, hungry, thirsty, sick.
How far he'd come, a now well renowned ambassador, recognised as a figure of importance in both Xing and Amestris. Identified as a master of the Xingese language, Al found himself just as at home in Xing as he was in Resembool, Amestris. It was only a mere year ago since he had first landed himself a job as a translator among the poor, yet now, after many hours of studying and hard work, he'd made it to his dream job; a translator and associator of the high courts of Xing, and associate and friend of the powerful Emperor Ling Yao,
He protected the peace, the trade, the welfare of the Amestrian people and the Xingese alike. There wasn't a day to when he ever took advantage of his job, rather, he relishes in it, eternally grateful. In fact, he had just completed on of his most assignments yet. Returning from Xing just two weeks ago, Al had managed to cease the conflict of ethical Xingese and Amestrians in the far North. Using his powerful techniques of public speaking and persuasion, he'd settled the issues of racism and drastic crop shortages. Much to his surprise, he'd received a large income of money and various Xingese goods to commemorate his work, directly from the Emperor himself as a sign of gratitude.
It seemed to Al, that this issue had proven to be of much more concern to Ling than he had originally thought it to be.
Entitled to six weeks leave, Al had found himself back in Amestris, attending a Xingese – Amestrian Association Conference as a guest speaker to talk about his work.
A soft cough behind him, and a gentle tug of his sleeve, drew Al away from the noisy, crowded world around him. His lips tugged into a smile, a tender smile, his golden eyes lighting up.
"Is everything alright, Mei?" The woman behind him, downed in a silken Quipao of purples and blues, patterns of flowers beautifully arranged amongst painted dots and lace, nodded, her hair done in braided buns, reaching well past her soft hips. Upon meeting her dark, gentle eyes he chuckled, grabbing at her hand, to which had slipped from Al's as she reached to touch her lips, and gave it a comforting, gentle squeeze.
His wife; fiery, beautiful, powerful, Mei.
His constant companion, a fighter to the end, one of the many to whom had fought gallantly by his side both before and after the Promised Day.
He didn't know what had given him the courage to ask for her hand;
Perhaps it was her beauty, her laugh, her powerful sense of friendship, her gorgeous personality or those cute little sneezes, but everything about her simply screamed 'Mei', the woman to whom he adores and loves.
A year and a half they'd been together now, and there was never a day to when they'd forsake each other or take one another for granted. Mei was married to the one she loved most, and that itself was the source of her happiness; attending conferences with him, playing the occasional game of what he called 'Tickle Tag', to Mei, Al was the centre of her world. Never had they once fought or found themselves in turmoil with one another; never had once been mad at the other; they understood each other; without a Mei there was on Al and without an Al, there was no Mei.
"Mei?" Al repeated, calling to her gently, fingers entwined. She flinched, the glaze of her eyes lighting up once more, snapping to attention.
"I'm sorry," she apologised, taking a tentative step forth. "I'm, fine, I just, feel a little under the weather…"
Instantaneously, her husband's eyes clouded with concern, lips drawing tight. Back in Xingese, they had a word for I; *Aisaika.
"Shall we go home?" He asked, seriously.
"No," she replied firmly, meeting his gaze squarely, jaw tight as she shook her head side to side in accomplice. "It's just a bit of nausea, nothing too serious." She promised, a kinder tone creeping into her voice.
However, Al wasn't all that convinced:
"It's fine Mei," he soothed, providing her with a comforting smile. "It is colder here than it is in Xing. I'd say it's got to do with seasonal illness. Besides," he pressed on. "We have been here a while," he gave a short laugh. "It's just a 5 second speech anyway. In truth I'd much rather be at home drinking hot chocolate." He chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes.
"Al!" Mei hissed, grabbing at the hem of his sleeve tightly.
"It's true though!" He laughed.
"I'd much rather stay and hear what you have to say." Al cocked his head, eyebrows creasing in concern.
"Mei…"
"Please." She demanded, squeezing on the white fabric to white clung to him. He sighed, reaching out a hand to touch her slim shoulder.
"Alright, but promise me that if you feel any more ill than you already are, you'll tell me."
"Promised." She swore, holding out her pinkie honestly, an old habit of hers. With a concerned look, Al gave a final sigh and interlocked his much bigger little finger with her slender, dainty one. "Now, shall we continue?" She asked, head tilting to the side slightly, hair tickling at her shoulder. "You wanted to go and see Mr Shoushan, didn't you?"
"Yeah," he replied, slowly walking through the crowds of people once more, Mei safely in tow by his side. "I heard that the is a supervisor over a material farm," he tossed his head side to side to in an effort to glance at Mei briefly and keep an eye on the mass swarms of people surrounding them. "You know, oil and different kinds of ore."
Mei's eyes widened, "Do you intend to establish a relation with him?" She chewed on her bottom lip as she spoke, free hand pulling at the hem of her traditional dress. "I believe it would be wise to be on his good side."
"Of course," Al nodded in agreement, pace quickening as he thought with anticipation. "But I've also heard that he is very fussy to whom he does business with."
"But you're Alphone Elric; first class associate of the Emperor Ling Yao and the High Courts!" Mei protested, shrilly.
"That doesn't mean anything to him," Al mused, voice low. "Sadly, to him, I am nothing but a waiguo ren, a foreigner trying to intrude upon his land and invade his precious resources." He bit his lip. "So as far as I am concerned, this is not going to be easy at all."
Mei paused, lips slightly part, thinking.
"Remember to use your politest Xingese and don't forget to bow," she stopped, briefly. "The more times the better," she added, as she fiddled with a stray braid. "Don't forget that it also pays to know that these type of men love to be flattered to a high extent, but don't overdo it or they'll think you desire something unpleasant from them."
"Got it." Al replied, drawing a series of small circles upon her cool palm.
"He'll probably ask you questions about your personal life too. Be serious, stay on your toes, don't joke around with him and avoid acting in a friendly manner towards him. It's unheard of in these types of situations."
Al grinned affectionately, stealing a kind glance from his wife, "Of course, thank you Mei. I'm very grateful."
It was amazing.
Almost two full years on the field and there was still so much to learn, although half of all things that he knew were accredited to Mei.
He hummed, happily.
"Arufonzu Xiansheng*!" Came a voice over the sea of noise. Alphonse stiffened, halting, listening. And then he spotted him; a tiny, short statured imp of a man, a long braided beard attached neatly to his wrinkly face.
"It's Mr Shoushan," he mummered to Mei, pulling her closer to him.
"Go to him." Mei encouraged, pulling on his sleeve in slight anticipation. "Just don't forget what I told you." She reminded as she relieved herself from his grasp.
He swung to face her immediately, almost hitting two Xingese men dwarfed by his height, eyes riddled and bewildered, nervous, panicked.
"Aren't you coming?" He hushed, leaning toward her.
"Shoushan Xiansheng believes the fields of business and politics do not concern that of a woman." She seethed, snootily, wrapping her arms around her middle. "Much less that of woman of 17th Chang clan," she added, teeth snagging upo her lip. "And I think going out the balcony for a little while might not be such a bad thing." It was only now that Al noticed the gleam of her brow and the wilt of her shoulders, heavy and tired, previously all to consumed in his own pursuits.
"I can't just leave you like this!" He cried, reaching out a nervous hand, to which she brushed away.
"I'm fine, it's just stuffy… that's all." She insisted, tangling a slim, smooth braid between her foremost fingers.
"Arufonzu Xiansheng!"
"Mei cuo!" He voiced back over the roar of the crowd before turning back to Mei.
"Meet me outside, alright?" With a nod he have her one last hesitant look and a squeeze upon her shoulder before turning on his heel and making his way over to the infamous material farmer.
Mei hummed before spinning around and going her own way, towards the lip of the balcony on the opposite side of the hall.
It seemed to take forever to get through the mass swarms of people, her head pounding, throat dry, stomach churning.
Every time she seemed to make progress and could see the exit in sight she was either pushed back or stopped by a fellow Xingese to have a chat. In the end, she had to swallow her honour, ignoring the constant taps on her back and shoulder, blushing in shame as the heat of many pairs of bewildered and agitated eyes racked her skin, scraping up against her; and in turn, she finally found herself in the gait of the refreshing night breeze.
As if a crushing weight had been lifted from her shoulders, she tottered over to the balcony and toppled over the decoratively, elaborated marble beam that stood out in the open of the night, gasping as all the oxygen in her lungs flew from her, stolen by the stillness of the evening.
She breathed into the smooth, cool stone, shoulders heaving as she gulped breath upon breath of pure air, untainted by tobacco and city pollution.
Upon a few moments later, she opened her eyes sleepily and drank in the splendour of the evening and all her beauty.
The stars were bright tonight, little pin points of diamond, glimmering fantastically against the bleakness of the ebony cascade of the sky.
The trees hummed, swishing from side to side, dancing beneath the tender gleam of the moon, full and pale, resting peacefully in the snug arms of the sky, secure.
She shivered upon feeling invisible hands across her back and neck, touching her ears and pale cheeks.
Cold, miserable, feverish, ill; yet she couldn't help but smile ~ her cheeks splashed with the colours of ruby, chocolate eyes gleaming in the shine of the moon.
It was a night like this when Al had first attempted to kiss her, and failed miserably.
It had been truly magical, something to which she knew she'd never forget.
One of the most awkward yet splendid moments of her young life.
He'd taken her outside as the others had celebrated, dancing to the sounds of jazz and piano on the radio; hugging, laughing, dancing, drinking. They had sat out upon the stairs around the back of the lively house, sides knit together, two close friends, counting the stars, rejoicing, giggling childishly.
She'd just returned from Xing no longer than a week ago after a long 12 months. Se couldn't believe how well he looked, how much he had filled out, how tall he'd grown. Yet still, he had that cheeky, very happy twinkle that sparkled in his eyes that simply cried 'Al'.
He couldn't believe how much she changed, that she too had also gotten taller, how startlingly gorgeous and clever since she'd become since he'd last seen her. She had left a child, and come back a woman – a very beautiful woman at that. But upon engulfing her in a hug and hearing her cry his name, he'd recognised her, as he buried his face into her hair, she was still the same old Mei.
Upon hearing her laugh and sing and tell stories of her time back in her homeland, he suddenly had felt the arising urge to kiss her, which resulted in a head –butt and a colliding of worlds.
But still, to Mei, it had been surreal.
"Long time no see, Xiajie*."
Mei gasped, almost leaping out of her skin upon feeling hot breath upon her neck, millions of hairs standing on end, electrified.
She jumped to her feet, hands balled into fists, ready to attack, to defend herself.
Yet there was no one, not a trace of a single human soul in the bask of the balcony.
Strange, she had sworn she had heard a voice, sworn she had felt rough lips upon the paper thin canvas of her throat, hungry, threatening, touching her thigh.
She took in a breath and expanded her qi.
She wouldn't let this go unseen.
No, she had definitely heard something.
She searched the far north of the building, the interior, the rooftops, and then suddenly, amongst the most Southern corridor of the building, she felt it - a presence, unfamiliar, heightened, excited.
Ignoring the wave of illness that flooded over her senses, she drifted down towards the main building, turning right, then left, then right again, until she reached her destination.
The corridor was empty, abandoned, deserted, a shallow eternal tomb of traditional paintings and monuments. The presence was just up ahead, she was sure of it. She sprinted down the long stretch of soft, purple carpet, panting, wheezing, clutching at her side.
She wanted to stop, she needed to stop, but her instinct drove her, telling her to carry on, that it was her duty to see to the phantom that had dared approach her."
She groaned as her head swam, eyes blurring, vision fading. Before she could establish what was happening she tripped, landing face first, hard on her belly, winding her.
Scarlett,
'Weird,' Mei thought, reaching a hand up to massage her pulsing head. 'I could swear that the carpet was purple…'
Metal, she could taste metal in the air, insulting and overwhelming to her nose.
She lifted her head slowly, groggily, in an effort to rest her chin.
And that's when, she saw it.
The body was handsome, perfectly placed, still.
He lay in a large collection of scarlet, white clothes stained red, the squeeze of his button-up shirt, strangling.
No gasping, no gurgling, on tranquillity and quiet, morbidly peaceful.
His kind, warm eyes, questioning, damp, afraid;
Hands placed over his glorious heart, in a vain attempt to protect himself, or rather feel the last frantic beats of his life draining away, to ensure that he too had once lived.
He had died kindly, Alphonse Elric.
****
Nihao ma – Hello.
Hen gaoxing renshi ni – Pleased to meet you.
Quipao – Traditional dress for women.
Tangzhuang – Traditional dress for men.
Xiansheng – Mr.
Xiajie – Miss (but can be used offensively to mean 'loose' or 'prostitute'.)
Aisaika - (not Chinese but Japanese) lit. Loving Husband.
****
Hello, this was just an idea I came up with - sorry if it's strange.