Touka Koukan

A Fullmetal Alchemist Alternate Universe

Chapter I: And the Curtain of Rain Pulls Back

Author's Note: Buwahahahahahahah! I TOLD you I'd get it out::cough: My first FMA fic. I have yet to see the FMA movie, the "real" conclusion to the series so if anyone has it I'll pay you whatever you want. (I really, really want that movie, but it's not even out in Japan!)

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by a bunch of dudes who are a lot ricer than me. I own none of these characters. Thanks for reading and enjoy after these messages . . .

Spoiler Warning! If you haven't seen the whole series I suggest approaching this written work with EXTREME caution.

Other Warnings: Names may be a bit messed since my subtitled version sucks like a vacuum cleaner. Names for everything. Like an 'array' is a 'matrix' (or maybe a 'transmutation circle'?), or 'equivalent exchange' is 'alchemistical equilibrium', 'chimeras' are 'synthesized monsters', and 'Lior' is 'Rioru'. Please correct me and give me the right names please! Also, swearing and yaoi will creep up. Trust me.

The rain poured down. The streets were left with various dry patches as the cars rolled by one after the other. Each sound of rolling tires entered Edward's mind and he committed it to memory. He heaved a long sigh. Life without alchemy was a thing he would never get used to. Carrying a gun and dagger to protect him was even more of a burden to him than this life. For what did he come for? He shifted his briefcase from one hand to the other. He didn't want to wave to a taxi. Those things, automobiles, cars, whatever they called them nowadays, killed their world. Even after the Second World War human beings still could not appreciate their lives and their environment. Beyond the door, was it the same? Did people do these acts of gross indifference where he had his origins?

His world. How long had it been? Almost a century, take away a decade or two. Eighty long years since he'd given Alphonse, his dearest loved one, back his body in trade of his life. Did Al still remember him, he often wondered. Was the younger Elric still alive? What of Winry and Pinako, Rose and her child. Did the baby have a name yet? He would never rest. He had long lost the need for sleep and only a plate of food and water would suffice for a week of his life. Now was the age where science was used to further medicine and to create easier and faster alternatives. How he longed for his own world. He remembered everything, all his memories penned in an old note book, constantly being repaired and rebound. He didn't want to become like Al after they tried to dig up the secrets of the Fifth Institute. Thinking it was all a dream, wondering if he existed at all. By all records, he honestly didn't. No registry, no identification to prove he was Edward Elric, a rumored doctor and scientist with the body of a seventeen-year-old and the wisdom of one a hundred times his age. His finger prints would prove to have only one set. He had learned to maintain his automail almost as well as Winry. His friend still had the tender touch to make his armor better than he could ever do with what he'd learned about the metal armor. Now, however, he kept it in a sort of glove (or sock) to hide the automail. It was still a piece of fine machinery and God knew what idiot would come and rip his arm off, much less his leg.

Edward shook his head and another low whistle escaping his lips. What could he do now, staying in Tokyo? He had come for absolutely no reason other than he had a feeling. These feelings made him come closer and closer to the other side. Somehow, alchemy could be used here. There was a breach. Somewhere. His abilities were coming back to him. He had tried with a simple matrix and his shock and elation was over rode by curiosity when he came up with a rather beat up toy car. It reminded him of Alphonse and his little things that they'd surprise their mother with. However, despite this welcome news he couldn't do much of anything except for small tasks like fixing a vase. Recalling the ease he had fixing Holling's wife's vase at Youswell he shook his head. So long ago he probably would have been able to repair a whole city without one damned matrix in a matter of days, or hours. Now he could just about summon an earth shield without keeling over. Be damned this world and its stupid ignorance of alchemy.

Edward crossed to the other side, dashing away from a passing car. He continued his damp walk through the city. It was overcome with population, traffic, and noise. He couldn't find any reason to stay. How would he be able to find the door?

In his boredom he had begun to let his mind wander.

His father he had never seen again after he had left. He never found the man he was looking for. The alchemist could properly assume he died before he found him or had fled the country. Edward had been wandering ever since, tracking down all information about rocketry, mechanics, botany, anything to get him closer to a different place. A jack-of-all-trades, he had been called. He was the master of everything. He loathed the title 'expert', for he had read and agreed with the cynical saying that experts learn more and more about less and less until eventually they know everything there is to know about nothing.

Rockets shuttled into space today and there was a massive amount of blank there. He had lost hope that there was anything worthwhile in the vast expanse of the universe outside Earth that could help him find the door. Even with the absurd amount of days he could spend with no sleep, food, water, or companionship he was still human. He needed to breathe. Staying in a shuttle for years upon centuries was not something he'd call smart. His heart needed precious oxygen and even going out to space with alchemy was not just stupidity, it was suicide. Izumi insisted that one should not rely on alchemy to solve one's problems. He now lived by the principle. Not by choice.

He tried at geography as well. There was always something going on in Japan and sometimes strange things happened in America. Studies on the occult as well, just to know what this world did believe in. Alchemy was one of the things. A bunch of bull, for the most part. Lead into gold was not only forbidden but selfish. Any alchemist who tried a stunt like that was not worthy to know the art.

Granted, he did so once but the pieces were restored and it went unsaid so . . . heh. Not his problem.

This world could not be so dissimilar from his own, could it? But it was. The only similarities were the evil deeds committed by both sides. However, he doubted the world leaders invested thousands of dollars to try and make the Philosopher's Stone, much less charge a kid to do such things.

"IIE! Leave me alone!"

He groaned inwardly. Another crisis so soon after his attempted robbery. Things went by far too quickly for him in this era. He rounded a corner and into an alley. No matter where he was, heinous acts were done in an alley. Murder, rape, robberies. It seemed to be an unavoidable cliché among evil people. When he and his brother were blown apart by Scar it was in an alley. This one was parallel to that place. Memories. As strong a will as he had, his mind was filled with images of the scarred man from the east. He held his forehead, containing the break in his dam of emotions.

"Gaijin?"

"What is a European doing here?"

"Maybe he's American."

"I hear they're loaded."

The victimized boy who had first called Ed's attention allowed no sound while the three men marveled at the man who appeared before them. To the child, it was fascinating to see such an outsider. His dirty blonde hair in a high ponytail, golden eyes not quite visible behind dark glasses. Hands snug with black leather gloves and a red shirt under a long black cloak. His entire body was covered, save for his face. He was so young, too.

Of the bullies, the tallest and broadest grinned. "He smells rich."

Another, this one scrawny and a foot shorter than the intruder, had already raised an outdated rifle. "Hand over everything on you, prick."

"Who are you calling a prick, asshole?" Edward replied, already in a loose stance, one Alphonse favored. "I'm gonna break your legs and then pound your arms to gravel. Then cut your hands off. That's what humans used to do in the old days to robbers, you know?" He glanced at the boy cowering behind the three. His clothes were torn and his school bag was on the floor, the contents strewn over the cobblestone. "I can guess that's what was happening. Unless you're in for murder. Then I'd really have to do something mean." A smirk infected his visage. Something about those eyes, that twisted mouth. It unnerved them. They could not get past him without first going through him.

Staunch smells of upcoming battle and garbage lingered. "Ready?" Edward asked. "I am."

A grunt and cry from the three was his response. Each attacked with a weapon. A rifle, a club, a hammer. Why attack a child with these weapons? The thought made him sick. He punched them out in a deft manner, not sparing them or allowing mercy to form on his limbs and allow them to be conscious when he left. He estimated that by the knocks they'd all have wakened up at around two the next morning.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice gentle as to not further upset the boy by the messy way he had demolished the armed trio.

The boy nodded. "Who are you?"

He chose his reply carefully. "Edward Elric. I won't ask your name, I didn't want to tell you mine. But you asked and I answered so you do the same for me, where do you live?" Equal exchange in value. Alchemy applied to life, he doubted that anyone could convince him otherwise.

"With my mother and father and brother." The child's cheeks were heated. He felt embarrassed for sort of forcing this Elric boy to state his name. "I am Shuichi Hatanaka."

"Oh, is that so?" Edward said, trying to engage his rescue in conversation while he did a slight body check. "Eh . . . but what I mean is what street and that?"

Shuichi nodded. "Sorry . . . I - " A sharp intake of breath was heard as Ed touched a tender spot near his ribs. He lifted the white blouse some and saw a purple bruise forming there. 'They kicked him here.' He requested for Shuichi to hold out his arms and the boy did so. More purplish bruises and some slashes. He could see right into Shuichi's eyes. Barry Chopper came to mind. Mortal fear. It made them human. Or seem human. Wrath's face sprang up. He was afraid of death. Or at least to go through the door.

"Elric-san, am I going to die?" Shuichi asked. Tears grew on his eyes. The rain washed away some of the blood and it soaked Edward's clothes instead.

Edward looked at him, a mute understanding in his golden optics. He knew how it felt to almost die. It had happened to him on both sides. How could he forget? Emotions will be remembered long after the memory is forgotten. He wished for neither to be lost. Al had proven memory makes one's identity. (To take lines from another anime, 'If you were not remembered you never existed.') "No, Shuichi. You're going to live. Just you wait, you can eat takoyaki in no time."

Chuckling, the boy dropped his arms. "I like takoyaki," he replied. "Niisan knows how to make it really well."

His mouth twitched. A younger brother. Yet another person who had a little brother to take care of. He wasn't worthy of one. He had done an unforgivable sin the night they tried to revive their mother. The night he killed Alphonse.

The child's grip startled him. Shuichi leaned on the walls and grasped Edward's shoulder firmly. "Can you help me?" he asked, a bit sheepish.

"Oh . . . " Edward smiled and wrapped the boy's arm around his shoulders and lifted him up onto his back. Blood seeped from Shuichi's clothing onto Edward's jacket and slid to the ground, creating droplets of red liquid from the end of the alley. Edward bent down and picked up all of Hatanaka's papers and bag, tucking them under his arm. "So, Shuichi-kun. I'll take you home now." The alchemist spoke as calmly as he could, Shuichi tethered to his sanity and consciousness only by a comforting presence, stranger or not. 'If I only knew where that was,' he thought.

Alchemy, to his knowledge, could not be used to search for places. That was saved for magic and such wand waving bull shit was a bunch of blarney in both sides of the door. The most he could do for this kind of work was to make a compass and God knew that wasn't any help at all. "Shuichi, tell me your street."

"Risanpuru . . ." the boy murmured.

Edward quirked an eyebrow. 'Risanpuru?' He didn't have the chance to ask as Shuichi's body slumped down and more weight was added. "Kuso," he swore. Now the kid was unconscious. He'd have to go knocking at every door on this street. He didn't even know where it was! Maybe he should have asked. The police station was his safest bet. He could grab a map and leave.

The idea was good at the time, but the Fullmetal alchemist was rudely addressed by the officers on guard. He could swear that one of them was a copy of Colonel Archer. He snatched a map away from one of the teasing police men and scooted out of the place as soon as he caught it. "Risanpuru . . . Risanpuru," he pulled off his mirror shades and replaced them with thin, square framed glasses. He had to resort to the damned things a decade ago. It sucked big ones to see his reflection, so much like his father. He may have forgiven him, but that feeling of resentment lingered.

He was not too far from this road, a crescent, actually, and proceeded towards the appropriate course. 'Maybe I can jump a few roofs,' he thought. That was unfeasible, however. He couldn't do it and still keep it smooth in hopes that the boy's wounds wouldn't reopen. "Shimatta," he cussed again. The trek was annoying. Edward remembered carrying Alphonse around, if not for a little fun because of some kind of pain that occurred with their rough housing or by pure accident. A faint smile gathered on his lips. What of Alphonse now? The only reason he woke up in the morning was because of Al and Winry, Rose, Pinako and Izumi. You have legs, walk forward. It was his own rule, and he was barely getting by with it.

He could guess that Roy Mustang was now Fuhrer. He was a commendable soldier, after all, and the man had ambition. 'I should stop scrounging up the past,' he mused. 'But it's that that keeps people going. What if all there is left for someone is a distant memory?' He could understand how brazen his preaching was when he was still in his early teens. Maybe not brazen, but hypocritical.

A low rumble and indistinct language was whispered in his ear. Edward whirled around, a shadow passing between his sights. Then two. Three more. Edward closed his eyes, blocking the sounds of falling rain, the touch of warm liquid and hair plastered to his face, conversations. The loss of his alchemy was like losing his motor skills. He realized that he was over reliant, strengthening himself was more important than his alchemy for a time and now that he could use it again he needed to enhance that too. So complicated. It was frustrating for his situation to change over and over. Edward's reveries were becoming more and more prominent throughout his waking time and even more thickly spread whenever his eyes closed. He tucked the glasses into his pocket.

The alchemist heard a low moan, a ghastly sound that seemed to be attempting German spoke. "Fullmetal, if you value what life you have left then give the boy," one growled.

"Bastard, why the hell should I!" The Fullmetal comment got to him, but his mind was already churning out a battle strategy.

The attackers wasted no time answering the Elric. Swipes at his flesh limbs were dodged, always missing by a hair's breath. "Damn!" He grabbed the dagger from his belt and lashed out against them. He could not see there faces, he could only feel their blows and bite his lip. The voices whispered, taunting him in an unknown tongue. He could hear the mocking, even if he couldn't understand their words they made fury build in his mind. Running a little out of the area he was mugged by the invisible creatures, he darted from place to place, hitting where the rain was not falling. "Shut up!"

A wild strike was stopped by flesh. He almost fainted at the shrill scream. The urge subsided by the morbid satisfaction of feeling blood. So slick between his fingers. In mad desperation, he turned to where his knife still pierced the being's flesh and attacked. It collapsed. Now it could be seen. Searing pain jolted him out of his state. Between confusion, horror, shock, there was a beast. It was so similar to the unfinished homunculus, right after alchemizing. Inhuman, grotesque. Limbs waved in the air, spasms rocking its frame. One would wonder how the Elric had not hit such a large target sooner.

No time. There was no time. Thick life coursed down his back. "Aw, I really liked that jacket," he said. "You're going to have to pay for it!" He kicked at the next beast with his automail. He ran across the field again.

"Gotcha!" he exclaimed. "Now you're dead!" He clapped and placed his hands on the ground at the edge of the matrix he had formed.

Spikes came from the ground, the ten foot alchemy circle glowing as the beasts dissolved into ashes. The Fullmetal Alchemist breathed, heaving long breaths, trying to keep the world from spinning. "What the hell was that about?" he asked. Heaving the child up, he decided it smarter to take him to the nearest hospital instead.

The warmth of the morning bathed the guests. It had been but two days before the water coming from the heavens threatened to flood the town. Thanks to a certain son of Hoenheim the day was now a bit kinder. Alphonse and Winry took turns playing with Alicia Hughes. Alphonse grinned at little Alicia.

"It's nice you came back from your training, Al," Winry said, picking up a doll.

The only living Elric smiled, concealing his desire to sleep. "Only for a while, sensei said I've been working too hard."

Frowning, Winry gave the toy to Alicia and shooed her off to go play with Black Hayate. She turned to Al. "She's right. Five years and this is only your second visit back! I worry, Pania worries, Grandma worries, you know everyone's concerned." The technician did worry very much for the fifteen-year-old Alphonse. He was good enough to know that human alchemy was possible, if forbidden. Although, it eased all of them somewhat to know that Izumi Curtis and her husband were keeping the young and talented alchemist busy. Besides, Alphonse wasn't stupid. He was unusually perceptive and empathic for someone his age.

Al matched Winry's frown. He couldn't hide his frustration and let out, "Why are you always so worried about me! I'm strong! You never fussed over Ed!"

Her expression looked hurt. "Al . . . no. We did worry about him. A lot," she whispered. "Ed didn't . . . doesn't . . . want anyone else to take responsibility for his actions, even if they weren't his fault. And - And - "

"You know, Alphonse, you're a very good alchemist but even the best of us can't change people's feelings," the Fire Alchemist laughed.

Saluting, Al grinned, happy to get away from Winry's stumbling words and the vague memory of his brother. The automail technician flushed. "Hello Mustang-taisa."

"Taisa? I'm a Brigadier General, thank you very much," Roy huffed. "And soon I will be President!"

Gracia peeked out through the door frame. "Oh! Mustang-san. I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you."

"No one was," he affirmed. "Right, Alphonse?"

The Thunder Cloud alchemist nodded. "Why are you here?"

With a smug look, the Major General pulled out an envelope. "The next clue," he said, trying to hide the graveness in his voice. This was Al's tenth mission. Even Mrs. Curtis didn't know that Alphonse had taken the test to be a Nationally-Certified State Alchemist. Obviously, Winry didn't catch wind of it either, despite the boy's broad hints. She blinked three times before snatching the manila file that Al had pulled out.

"When were you going to tell me you were a National Alchemist!" she demanded. "Do you know what Izumi'd say! She'd kill you! She'd dig up your bones and turn it into a toilet! You're in big trouble! Especially with me! Why didn't you tell me! Do you have to be so STUPID!" She looked ready to kill the young boy as well. For a moment to her, this wasn't Alphonse anymore.

Alphonse flushed. "I have to find niisan," he answered. Winry was petrified. How odd, that brothers think so alike. He pried the file out of her hands and opened it, sifting through the data with a minute per page average. "I don't understand," he breathed. "What does this have to do with niisan?"

"A few things," Roy replied. "Just go to Zenotime."

'Tringham? What do they have to do with Edward?'

To be continued!

Sorry for bounding around a lot with the Edward narrative. I have this disease where topics can never stay put for more than ten seconds.

Out of curiosity, does anyone besides me actually like the ending of FMA? I was thrilled by it. It was the perfect way to end such a series.

Next Time; Chapter Two: The Thunder Cloud Alchemist

Alphonse: Niisan. I will find you one day. Until then, I will work for the military, following in your foot steps.