Kame:…It's been a while since I did anything for FMA…this is actually just a writing exercise I came up with to make me feel better about the chaos that is called Monday. P.S: Don't own FMA, blah blah blah….
Takes place last episodes of first anime
Edward dislikes the silence.
Silence was not a bad thing for the young blond. There were times when he actually preferred the silence, like when he was researching, reading, or sitting in the office of that stupid smirking bastard; at least he wasn't being called short out loud.
However, as he walks towards Dante and possibly death, he doesn't like this silence at all.
This silence was the perfect microphone, amplifying the thud his normal foot makes as it hits the ground and the slight buzzing noise from his automail joints when he flexes his foot. The stillness makes him too aware of his life. He doesn't want to waste time thinking about how alive his body was, his lungs pulling air to keep his head clear of fear, the steady pounding of his heart revealing it. He wonders vaguely how long will it remain like that. He wonders about how still his body will be once his heart stops.
He remembers how quiet the house was while he was drawing the circle on the bare wooden floor, occasionally punctured by the correction of a calculation and the nervous glances of his younger brother. He should have guessed, should have known that the silence hanging in the air before he and Al touched that circle was foretelling their downfall.
The eerie peace of the ghost town mocks him in the same manner.
Despite this, Ed keeps his pace steady as he approaches the ethereal splendor of the hall Dante lurks in. His legs, both flesh and metal, carries him forward, with both fists clenched slightly, back ramrod straight, eyes narrowed and jaw set in a grim smile.
He walks forward into the silence, into the unknown.