I feel the cold snowflakes in one hand; and a motionless world in the other. I hear gravel crunch beneath one boot but the other feels as if it is walking a never-ending journey on a land that has no feeling.
Why do I not blame such a feeling on the arm; the leg; itself?
Simple; because, if I were to blame those, I would be blaming myself and the person that made them for me.
I have no reason to.
I feel the heat of summer on my face and the wind of fall tugging my braid and bangs along with it. I feel the rain of spring dampening my clothes.
And the seasons may pass as they want to. I don't have much care for what goes on around me.
It really is the thing going on inside of me that I care about.
It feels like a clock; once it goes off on it's chime, it must be re-wound and started again.
A clock is not something that notices the seasons around it. It does not notice the time it holds. It is cold and dark inside with only strings to keep it to chime.
And if I were to ask for anything, I would ask this:
Would you be my heart? Would you keep me warm during the winter? Would you keep me dry during the spring? Would you keep me cool during the summer? Would you keep the wind from my face during the fall?
Would you?
I am an alchemist. I see no fantasies outside of science.
And maybe that's why I am so cold.
Just like metal.
Fullmetal.
I am Edward Elric.
The Fullmetal Alchemist.