"Aw, crap!"

"What is it, Nii-san?" my younger brother, Alphonse, wondered, his voice echoing throughout his metal armor.

"I left my coat back at the restaurant," I sighed. "Let's go back and get it."

Al followed as I backtracked. "How could you forget? Nobody else wears a coat like that, Ed."

"I know, I know!"

As we walked through the entrance, our waiter approached us.

"Are you the one who left your red jacket here?"

"Yes, I am," I snapped, irritated at having been lectured by my younger brother.

He flinched visibly at the verbal jab. "Your friend took it and told me to give you this when you returned." The waiter held out 3000 sens (about 30 American dollars).

"Friend?" questioned Al.

The waiter nodded. "She was a fourteen or fifteen-year-old girl with short, unkempt brown hair and shocking cerulean eyes."

Al thanked the man and apologized for monopolizing his time, and I took off into the main part of town. My eyes scanned the deserted cobblestone streets, the air charged with electricity, anticipating a thunderstorm from the dismal clouds overhead. I jogged down the road, parallel with but not directly next to the calm but deep river at the edge of town to my right, thankful for my most recent automail upgrade that allows me to swim if the need arises.

A flash of red turned right a little further ahead, and I transitioned from a jog to an all-out sprint.

"Wait, you thief!"

She ran, too, but it was little more than a fast walk. Within moments, I overtook her, close enough to hear her wheezing. The mud next to the river slid beneath my feet, and I seized my opportunity. I tackled the thief into the still waters, hoping to stun her with the cold.

"Nii-san," Al called out to me. "She doesn't know how to swim!"

Bewildered as to how Alphonse knew this and unable to stop, I landed in the water with a splash, grabbed the girl by her shirt collar, and dragged her to the surface with me, all in one swift motion. Al pulled her out, and I plopped down on a grassy patch near the river, fuming.

"I hope you learned your lesson, girl. When you steal, you get punished. It's equivalent exchange: you reap what you sow," I scolded.

"First of all, my name isn't 'girl.' It's Ariana," she retorted hastily. "Second, if that's equivalent exchange, the rule must have changed somewhere down the road. I stole your coat--"

"You admit it!"

She glared at me. "Let me finish. I stole your coat but left you 3000 sens, enough money to buy a new coat."

"Why didn't you buy yourself a new jacket with that money?" interjected Al.

"I'm a homeless thief. Someone would have either stolen it off me or accused me of stealing it." Ariana looked at me. "This guy's jacket is slightly battered and worn at the edges. Plus, it was long enough to use as a blanket."

Looking at her eyes, I noticed a startling expression in them. Once, the blue might have rivaled that of a serene, stunning ocean and held a flair for mischief, but now the ocean was as stormy as the overcast sky above us. Still startlingly bright in color, the former joy was replaced by stress and the glazed-over look caused by years of endless exhaustion.

It took me a moment to realize she had begun speaking again.

"If I steal an item, I replace it with money, and stolen money is replaced by things such as food. That's my personal version of equivalent exchange."

Al inquired, "How did you learn about the laws of alchemy?"

"Before he and my mother died, my father was a doctor who employed alchemical techniques during treatments. A fire killed them when I was ten, leaving me on the streets with no living extended family members. I get my clothes from the trash bins of families with daughters my size or bigger. and utilize the free library system to maintain my education. It's a harsh life, but I have it easier than others with no education at all."

Ariana opened her mouth to say something more, but a series of coughs ravaged her. I recognized the hacking immediately; I will never forget them as long as I live. Al and I exchanged glances, nodded, and understood that we were thinking the same thing.

Al lifted Ariana up bridal-style as I grabbed my sopping-wet coat from where she had discarded it and yanked a map out of my bag. We located our destination and took off.

"Hey, Al," I panted. "How did you know she couldn't swim?"

"While you were chasing Ariana, I asked around to see if anyone knew her. A nearby shopkeeper identified her, commenting on how Ariana enjoys the water quite a bit for a girl who never learned to swim properly."

Luckily, the hospital was in a town close enough that we could run there without much trouble-- well, Al can run forever and never tire, but that isn't the case for me. We checked Ariana in as Ariana Elric and sat down to wait to be called, Ariana still hacking.

The waiting room resembled a standard doctor's office's waiting room but with more fish tanks. Apparently, they're supposed to be relaxing. Stark white walls enclosed a large area filled with uncomfortable wooden chairs with small cushions, two check-in desks, and one or two small tables. A smaller area for ill patients-- such as Ariana-- was separated from the main patient area by a wooden wall and stood at the far end of the room. Unlike its depiction in books and such, the atmosphere remained calm, not relaxed but not tense, either. I guess it was a slow day, thank goodness. Besides us and the secretaries, seven others lingered in the E.R.: an elderly man in a wheel chair with an IV in his arm and his daughter in a seat next to him, an eight-year-old boy on his mother's lap, sobbing about a pain in his head, and a tall boy about my age age with a swollen pinky finger, sitting with his mom and fourteen-year-old sister.

The girl walked over to us, smiling through her bored expression, and said, "Hi." She resembled a teenage version of Sheska with longer hair and brown eyes. "I'm Laura."

Al and I introduced ourselves, and Ariana stopped coughing long enough to say her name.

"It's nice to meet you. If you don't mind my asking, what are you guys here for?"

Al answered, "As you can see, Ariana is having a pretty severe coughing fit. My brother and I have an idea of what it could be."

Ariana cast us a confused look as Laura inquired about the cough.

"I can't remember the exact name, but Al had a similar disease when he was younger," I explained. "It started with a slight cough one day, but three weeks later, not only had it refused to go away, but the cough had worsened. Mom took him to the hospital, and I was there when the doctors gave our mother the details. If left untreated, the coughing escalates as the person ages, eventually causing them to cough up blood in their late teens to early twenties. The later the illness is treated, the more difficult it is to cure. However, the cure remains effective no matter what the person's age as long as their immune system is strong."

Laura nodded thoughtfully as shock flashed across Ariana's pale face. Of course, if the immune system isn't resilient enough or if they refuse treatment, I thought, the patient will die soon after they begin coughing up blood.

I changed the subject. "So, Laura, what are you here for?"

"My brother broke his finger," she shrugged. "It happened last night, but the finger only started swelling today. He's fine, so we're not too concerned. We just brought him in to get it looked at and find out if he needs a cast. Would it be alright if I stayed with you three for a bit?"

A tad surprised, we agreed, and her mother approved as long as Laura was home before nightfall or called her if she couldn't be home on time.

About two hours later, the four of us were the only people waiting. Al and I agreed that Laura was trustworthy enough to tell her how we met Ariana-- it seemed like days ago-- and Ariana recovered enough to contribute occasionally and defend her side of the equivalent exchange issue. As the two of us bickered, Ariana was called into a small room off to the side. A nurse examined her and led us to a circular area the size of a small auditorium. Smaller rooms with beds, radios, and various unknown medical devices branched directly off of the main area, separated from it only by curtains. Ariana's coughing fit returned, and a doctor led her away from the bed to run some tests. Another nurse came in and asked for our relationships with Ariana.

"She's our cousin," Al and I replied in unison. I shot Laura a just-go-along-with-it look, and she nodded slightly in understanding.

She told the nurse, "I'm a family friend."

"Where are her parents?"

"They died in a house fire," I began. "We hadn't seen her since the funeral and don't know where she's been living. I accidentally crashed into her in the next town over, and the two of us ended up in the river. A few minutes after we got out, Ariana started coughing like crazy." Every convincing lie holds a shred of truth at its core, I thought.

Laura jumped in. "I was waiting for the two," she pointed at Al and me, "just outside the city limits when they ran up to me, Al carrying Ariana, and demanded to know the way to the hospital. Well, Ed did the demanding, but I'm sure he didn't mean to be rude."

I glared at her smirk, hoping she knew I was just playing along. Her wink assured me that the message was received.

As the nurse gazed at Al's armor, he anticipated the upcoming question. "It's a hobby," he shrugged.

Miss Ariana should be back in a few minutes with Dr. Sheemer. She's in good hands. Dr. Sheemer's husband works in the investigations department of the military in Central, so she's handled worse-off patients while assisting him," the nurse informed us, leaving us alone again.

"Good cover, Laura," I whispered.

"You, too, Ed," she responded. "Hey, Al, why do you wear that armor?"

I'll tell you later."

"If Dr. Sheemer's husband is in Central's investigations department," I reasoned, "he might be Hughes' subordinate."

"Hey, if you guys need a place to stay after all of this is over, come to my place," piped up Laura.

"Are you sure it's alright?"

"It's no trouble at all, Al. My mom runs an inn on the other side of the city. You guys can stay for free."

We took Laura up on her offer, and she left to call her mother and let her know it might be a little longer.

"Nii-san," my brother inquired after a few moments. "Should we tell Laura and Ariana about my armor?"

"Only if we need to."

Laura returned at that point. "Mom said it's alright if I stay here with you. To tell the truth, I was pretty surprised earlier when I heard your last name. Most people don't expect to meet a state alchemist and his younger brother in a waiting room, you know? Sorry if that was too random."

Dr. Sheemer, a thirty-year-old woman with short black hair and glasses, entered the room, Ariana trailing behind her. "Your cousin has--" A bang from the other room drowned out part of what she said. "-- and will need weekly treatments, eventually receding to monthly treatments. The nurse informed me of your situation, but Ariana needs to live within city limits until further notice. I realize that Laura's family can't take her in. My relatives who stay at the inn while visiting told me that the rooms are usually all occupied except for two rooms reserved for the owners' personal guests."

I stared at Laura, thinking of her offer earlier, and she shrugged casually.

"However," Dr. Sheemer continued, "my husband, Paul, and I have been hoping to adopt a child of any age for a few years now. If you want to, Ariana, you could stay with us-- even permanently. It's up to you."

The doctor and nurses had given her some medicine, so Ariana wasn't choking anymore. A little light trickled into her cerulean eyes. "That would be a dream come true!"

I'm surprised she said it that way, but as long as she's safe and joyful, it's alright with me, I thought.

The doctor informed us that Ariana was required to undergo a few more tests that would take about two to three hours and led her down the hall.

Laura left for a moment, saying something about a fabric shop next door, and returned with a pre-made, hooded red cloak, two zippers, a sewing needle, black fabric, clear thread, and a roll of black lace bundled in her arms. The cloak appeared astonishingly warm. She plopped down in a chair and began quickly but meticulously cutting the sleeves at the elbow, sewing zippers onto each piece of sleeve she severed and the parts attached to the coat, and zipping them together to create a cloak with removable sleeves. The innkeeper's daughter refused to stop there, though. Using my coat as a model, she replicated the flamel design on the back of my jacket using the raven-black material and attached it in the same place on the new coat. Last, Laura sewed the ebony lace onto all edges besides the ones occupied by zippers or the opening in the front.

"Viola!" Laura held up her creation. "My masterpiece is complete."

Al and I gaped in awe of our new friend. She successfully recreated a feminine version of my cloak in two-and-a-half hours. This girl can't be human.

As soon as Ariana walked in, Laura, being about as subtle as a grape juice stain on a crisp white shirt, launched the gift towards Ariana's head, where it landed with a fwump.

Furious, Ariana yanked it off of her face and almost yelled at Laura, but the realization of what she'd been hit with froze her momentarily. She recovered quickly and embraced Laura in a hug that rivaled Major Armstrong's on bone-crushing force. I rolled my eyes but couldn't help smiling. When you travel constantly, struggling to gain the trust of others, surrounded by strangers who wish you harm, it's easy to forget that friendships can form out of the most insignificant moments and actions such as a jacket being stolen, a conversation in a waiting room, or a gift of a decorated coat. All of this flooded back to me when I saw the inner sunlight shining through her overjoyed, overflowing ocean-blue eyes.