Colonel Mustang sat alone in his office, yet again pondering things that didn't directly pertain to his work at hand. Roy Mustang, the notorious Flame Alchemist, was specialized in alchemy dealing with heat and fire, as his title adequately implied. But that's all it was –specialization. He didn't really know much about other fields of alchemy at all.
As more and more talented recruits began enlisting in the military, Roy became acutely aware of the wide range of specs alchemy entailed. He had always known there was a lot alchemy covered as a science. The name itself was something of an umbrella term; alchemy was any science dealing with the deconstruction and reconstruction of matter.
So why didn't he know more about it?
The colonel had been feeling the urge to become more rounded in alchemy as a subject. He was certainly intelligent enough to do so, but he never set aside the time to even make an effort to. It was not as though anyone criticized him for mostly knowing only of flame alchemy, mostly because most certified alchemists had a certain specialization but also that he was so exceptionally talented at his craft that people likely thought it wasn't necessary for him to bother. This was about him and his own personal ambitions, much like the rest of his goals.
Even given this, he still had absolutely no idea where to begin. He though first of asking someone for help…someone who knew a lot about a wide range of alchemy and more than just its basic principles. Instantly, his brain resorted to Ed, the Fullmetal Alchemist, and just as quickly he scrapped that idea; working with someone he found so infuriating would get him nowhere –doing so might even cause him to lose his motivation. So that idea was out.
He could hire a private tutor…but that would be a lot of extra money spent for something recreational, something not entirely necessary. Plus, given his inherent leader-like traits, he never found himself taking too kindly to direct instruction. Military commands were something he could handle…hardly, keeping in mind that following orders was the only way to get to the top.
So it was settled: he was to study a wider range of alchemy on his own time, drawing from resourced he was to locate on his own.
He resolved to visit the library after work –there was bound to be several kinds of reference texts to a more general sense of alchemy.
Driven by his own motivation, Roy finished the tedious pile of paperwork he had for the day just on time, without having to work overtime like he usually did. The clock hit five, and he was ready to head down to the library reserved only for state alchemists, which was only a convenient couple floors down.
The librarian didn't bat an eyelash as he entered the large room. He quickly scribbled his signature on the sign-in sheet they had on the counter, and then made his way to where he remembered the general alchemical reference texts being located.
Because the library was reserved for state alchemists and select higher-up military personnel, most of the books it held regarded alchemy. This was both a pro and a con for Roy -convenient because he had everything he needed right here with unlimited access, and exasperating because he also had no idea where to start. Incidentally, general alchemy information had an even broader range of reference.
He perused the selection carefully, his head tilted as he read the titles on the spines. Though they were supposedly all-purpose, he found that a lot of them were for beginners of a select spec, and not just alchemy in general. The ones he found that were about alchemy as a subject were dealing with the bare bones of concepts, pre-requisites of the art itself, things every alchemist knew.
Just when he thought that maybe the whole thing wasn't such a great idea after all, a specific title caught his eye –"Techniques for a Broader Range of Alchemical Skill". The title was a mouthful, but he'd be damned if it wasn't exactly what he was searching for. Making sure it was what he needed, he pulled the book from the shelf, propping the book next to it sideways so he didn't lose the spot if he decided to put it back.
He first flipped to the chapter index as to see what exactly the book instructed. After seeing chapter titles such as "Simple Transmutations for Better Deconstruction and Reconstruction" and "Basic Exercises for Better Energy Honing", he was sold. He proceeded to quickly check the book out, sign out, and drive home.
As he wasn't too hungry, once he got home he immediately started reading through the text, not even bothering to change into more comfortable clothes. He sat on his plush sofa, staring intently at the words presented for him. The book seemed to be more instruction that explanation.
He read through the exercises under the chapter "Simple Transmutations for Better Deconstruction and Reconstruction", finding others to sound more simple and accomplishable than others. In fact, a lot of them sounded flat out pointless. As he began to skim it, his eyes fell upon one titled "Scaling Transmutations". What was important about this?
"Where transmutations regarding the scaling of objects seems to have no practical use, learning how to accomplish them gives the alchemist a better feeling for how matter may potentially be deconstructed and then subsequently reconstructed, or vice-versa."
Roy could understand this –rearranging a select piece of matter by size could show an alchemist more about its chemical makeup, and in turn help in generating more effective results when performing more complicated transmutations. It was similar to how he felt the amount of certain elements in the air before creating a spark. He read on.
"After an object is chosen, the alchemist must figure its size as it is, and then focus solely on it as they transmute it into a smaller or bigger size. They must have the approximate size in mind before performing the transmutation, or results could be sketchy."
He noted this mentally, and then proceeded.
"The process of transmutation itself is simple: the alchemist must know what the matter of which the object is composed, and then focus on the chemical makeup composing its atoms. Using the right amount of composed energy, the object's molecules can be easily manipulated into the size of the alchemist's choice."
Roy considered these words for a moment. What object would he use? What item in his house does he know inside and out? He eventually decided it was best to start sure and simple and went upstairs to fetch a t-shirt, which as the tag read was composed of one-hundred percent cotton. The chemical makeup of cotton wasn't too complicated, he figured. He grabbed the shirt and a piece of chalk (which all good alchemists had on hand at all times) and head back to the living room.
He figured he'd draw the simple transmutation circle on his coffee table, a surface that was easy to wipe clean. He first drew the circle and then referenced the text for the symbols he was to draw in and around it. Once he figured it looked accurate enough, he gently draped the shirt over it, careful not to smudge any markings.
The colonel then proceeded to focus his energy, building it up and only concentrating on the shirt in front of him. He decided he would make it smaller, as it seemed a little less complicated than inflating the atoms.
That is, until the phone rang.
Startled, he released the energy he had accumulated, his concentrated power splaying out of his mind. The circle lit up brightly, an eerie shade of shocking red. A reaction occurred, the fuzzy feeling of alchemy surging through the air, making the hair on his arms stand on end. The phone stopped ringing. He was having trouble getting his vision to focus as it gradually tapered out, his world swirling around him as he could feel himself getting closer to the floor.
Several moments passed before he regained consciousness. He opened his eyes slowly, feeling a skull-splitting headache begin to develop. He blinked. The carpet weavings were huge! He quickly sat up, furiously rubbing his eyes, confirming the situation –everything was huge.
The now-tiny colonel panicked, figuring the transmutation backfired, as transmutations so easily did. He stood up, finding himself to stand at not even half the height of the coffee table's legs. He looked down at his person, relieved to find that his clothes had shrunk with him. He wasn't entirely sure how, but everything that had been on his person prior to the transmutation was now in scale to his miniscule height, which he estimated to be around a minuscule half a foot.
"Shit," He cursed aloud. He was surprised to find his voice wasn't high-pitched and squeaky, probably due to the same reason his clothes shrunk with him. At least the alchemy left him that scrap of his dignity.
He racked his brain for ideas for how to handle the situation. He could try to read more about how to reverse it; the process of undoing it should be similar to doing it in the first place, right? The only problem being he didn't know how exactly it had been done to him in the first place. How does one trace the reaction of a mistake? He didn't know where to start doing so, and quite frankly, he wasn't feeling like climbing up his table to reach the book anyway.
His next thought was to call someone for help. The thought of the telephone triggered anger as he remembered why he was in this situation in the first place. There were a few problems with this idea, the first and foremost being who was he to trust with this? He wasn't in the mood to be subjected to ridicule for his mistake. However, he would probably have to get over that if he wanted help, he figured. How would he even dial a phone? His wasn't tall enough to even reach all the numbers. He plopped down on the floor, exasperated with the whole mess.
Figuring he should strain himself further looking for answers, he curled up on the carpet, wishing for sleep to take him once more.
Hours later, the tiny man was roused from his dreamless sleep by a loud knocking at his door. Again, he panicked, scrambling to his feet. He wasn't ready to be seen like this yet! His first instinct was to dive under the couch. The knocking persisted.
"Colonel? You home?" The muffled voice of an impatient Edward resounded through the door. There was no way the bastard could've gone to bed by nine at night, he couldn't be that old. He knocked harder. "Answer your damn door!"
The small colonel was confused. Why was Fullmetal here at this time of night? He never went to his house before this. Pretty shitty timing for a first visit, he thought. Just then, the doorknob began to jiggle. Did he forget to lock it?
"Bastard, where are you?" Apparently he had. "The lieutenant wanted me to drop this off; she said you didn't answer your phone. I –hey, seriously, where are you?"
He stayed silent, adjusting further under couch. He breathed in slowly, accidentally inhaling a speck of dust. He tried to suppress a cough, but soon broke out into a full-blown uncontrollable coughing fit. "God," He coughed. "damn it." More hacking.
"Hey, are you alright?" He scrambled around the living room. "Where the hell are you?!"
He decided the jig was up and crawled out from under the couch, still coughing, figuring it might be a good thing it was the Fullmetal Alchemist to find him: he probably knew how to fix this. He began rolling around in an effort to stop the blasted coughing.
Ed, however, was still walking. "Fullmetal, stop!" He yelled between hacking. The boy stopped in his tracks. "You almost stepped on me."
"Huh?" He was startled, having heard him without seeing him.
"I'm down here," The tiny colonel spoke. Ed looked down to Roy Mustang lying in fetal position on the floor, except the man couldn't have been any bigger than his hand. Thankfully, his coughs were decreasing in frequency. The boy was desperately trying to hold in his laughter as he bent over to pick up the miniature man.
"Hey, put me down!" He yelled as Ed picked him up by the back of his collar. Even yelling, the volume of his voice wasn't very loud.
"Heh." He placed him on the open palm of his left hand. "Who's the shorty now?"
Roy stood up in his hand, wiping the dust off his uniform and straightening himself up. "This isn't funny, now would you please-"
"Actually, it's pretty hilarious."
"As I was saying, would you please help me undo this?" He looked away. "I honestly don't know how to."
"Well first, you have to tell me how it happened in the first place. Not because I have to know in order to fix it or anything," He smirked. "But because I have to know how you managed to fuck up this badly." He brought him closer to his face to further inspect his tininess.
Roy backed up on his hand, suddenly nervous. "For your information, it was a perfectly noble pursuit," He said.
"Oh, I'm sure."
"It was!" He insisted. "I began to think about how I should be better-rounded as an alchemist and I decided to actually do something about it."
"Uh huh." He leered. "And how did that work out?"
"You're really getting a kick out of this, aren't you?" He deadpanned.
"More than you know," He answered.
"Anyway," He began again. "I headed down to the library to start with something simple, you know? Long story short, I found the book, found an easy looking transmutation, tried it, but it failed. The phone rang, and it startled me."
"Well that would explain why you didn't answer the lieutenant." He looked to the table. "And why that's there."
"Yeah, yeah, so do you know how to get me back to normal?" The small man was getting impatient quickly.
"I might," He answered vaguely. "But I don't think I wanna."
"This isn't a joke, you insolent little-"
"Whoa! Big words for a small man!" He broke out in a fit of giggles. Roy proceeded to bite Fullmetal's thumb.
"Ow! Shit, who's immature now?" He put the colonel in his metal hand as he shook his now pained thumb. "Fine, I'll do it. But I'm telling you, you're ruining all the fun this could be." He firmly grasped the man in his flesh hand again as he sat on the couch, beginning to flip through the pages of the open book on the table.
"Excuse you," Tiny Roy spoke. "You can put me down now."
"Oh, right, sorry." He placed him on his knee. Roy felt incredibly awkward being on him like this, but he supposed it was less weird what with his tininess. He briefly considered hopping off and sitting next to him like a normal person, but he could see the book much better this way. Besides, he was far from a normal person now anyway. An odd silence befell the two.
"You're a damn prodigy, and you can't do this without referencing the book?"
"Hey, I've never changed the size of a person before, I could mess it up!" He said in defense, glaring down at him. "Would you like that, Colonel? Would you like to be normal sized, but with nine fingers and eleven toes? No, didn't think so." He turned his attention back to the book. "Dealing with actual humans and alchemy is a delicate process."
He considered this silently. If anyone was to know something about that, it would be Ed. Suddenly he felt a little more grateful it was him who had discovered him like this, despite his inevitable teasing.
"Ugh, this text is too simple!" Roy turned to see Ed's clearly frustrated expression. "Jeez Mustang, I didn't know you knew this little of non-specialized alchemy." He ran his fingers through his bangs in exasperation. "I honestly don't know what to do," He spoke quietly.
"Well, what does that mean?"
"That means I don't think I can fix this," He clarified. "At least, not on my own."
"You mean to tell me someone else will have to see me like this?" He gestured to his wee form, worry evident in his tone.
"Probably!" He said loudly. "Damn, it's not like you're deformed or something. You're just a tiny man…with a big ego."
"I could say the same for you."
"Watch it, I could squish you," He warned lowly.
"You wouldn't."
He grinned mischievously. "Watch me."
"Okay, okay," He put his hands up. "Bickering will get us nowhere." He just now realizes this bit of information regarding their dynamic.
"So what do you plan on doing, you know, in the meantime?"
"I hadn't thought about that," The tiny colonel admitted with wide eyes. "I hate to ask this of you, believe me, but could you help me out?" He looked up in order to make eye contact. "Please?"
"I'm already helping you get back to normal," He reasoned. "And now you want me to help you get through your everyday life, just because now you're miniature? Absolutely not."
Roy could feel himself mentally panic. There was no way he could function in such a big household on his own, not at this stature! He could try hiking up and down the stairs, but there was no way he could prepare his own food, bathe himself, or even leave the house without accidentally getting squished, for that matter.
"Edward, please," He spoke, his tone solemn. "I wouldn't ask you if I didn't really need the help." First he gets shrunk to the size of a pen, and now he has to quite literally beg Edward for assistance. He really had no dignity left.
At the moment Ed was a little internally startled that he called him by his first name. "Um," He shook his head from the distraction. "What's in it for me?"
Roy facepalmed. "I don't know, what do you want?" He was prepared for anything his teenage mind could come up with.
Edward visibly pondered the possibilities. "I guess there's nothing I really want from you right now." The mini-colonel was close to seething. "Fine, I'll help. But you owe me. I'm sure I'll think of something later."
Despite his impatience, Roy was genuinely relieved and feeling very grateful. "Thank you," He breathed.
"But uh," He looked at the documents he brought him from the office. "What are we going to tell Hawkeye? And the others, for that matter?"
"Shit, I hadn't thought of that," He groaned. "I'm sure we can think of something." The tiny man scooted off Ed's leg and rolled onto the couch and then proceeded to sit criss-cross facing the boy, having trouble balancing himself on the plush cushion. The younger alchemist tried hard to stifle a laugh as he watched him maneuver around until he was comfortable.
"Alright," The colonel spoke, his arms out in an attempt to balance himself. He looked up to Ed's face. "If you don't wipe that smile off your face, I will do it for you."
"Yeah," He inhaled. "If you can reach."
"I'm choosing to ignore that one." He propped his arms behind himself for better balance. "So, what could we tell them?"
"You're sure you're not okay with, oh I don't know, the truth?" He rolled his eyes.
"No," He answered almost immediately. "It's bad enough you had to see me like this, I can only imagine my team would find it funny enough that even Hawkeye might crack a smile."
"Yeah, we couldn't have that," He said sarcastically.
"Shut up, you know what I meant."
"Yeah, yeah, something about your pride or whatever." He peeked down at the mini-colonel, who looked admittedly abashed.
"My image is what will get me to the top," He reminded him.
"Right, so…" He started fidgeting. "How about…you're on leave or something?"
"Suddenly? In the middle of the week? But for what reason?"
"God, I don't know! Death in the family?"
"That could work…" He brought his tiny hand to his chin. "But would it buy us enough time?"
"A week or so? Probably," He spoke. "I'm either going to have to find you a more skilled alchemist, one who's more trained in dealing with living humans, or I'm going to have to try to figure this out myself. Whichever one comes first, really."
"I'd really prefer if we didn't have to drag anyone else into this."
"Ah, I know, I know!" He waved his hand dismissively. "I'm doing my best, alright?"
Roy sat pensively. "Thank you, Edward," He spoke softly.
Ed felt himself blushing before he could stop it. "Whatever," He replied. "Don't mention it."
"Believe me, I won't," He said, receiving a halfhearted glare in response. Edward could feel himself begin to sweat, and he wondered why the colonel kept his house so warm. He searched his mind for something, anything to say, before he heard tiny Roy's voice again.
"So, your place or mine?"
"I, what?"
"Are we staying here," He clarified. "Or going to your place?"
'That's a whole 'nother can of worms, isn't it?' Ed thought. "Well if I stay here, I need an excuse to give Al as to why I'm gone," He thought aloud. "And if I take you to our apartment, I'll have to explain you to Al." Roy visibly cringed. "Either way, Al needs to hear something."
The tiny colonel was thinking deeply, struggling to make a decision before Ed interrupted his train of thought. "Or, we could make this interesting and I could attempt to smuggle you into our apartment and I would just take care of you under Al's nose."
"I don't know Fullmetal, all of my stuff is here…"
"And all of your stuff is huge, compared to you at least," He pointed out. "And you know how much I don't like lying to Al's face by making an excuse."
"Smuggling me, and I quote, under his nose, isn't like lying?"
"No!" He said as thought the notion were ridiculous. "It's just being sneaky."
Roy looked frustrated; a well-deserved sense of irritation. "Okay," He ground out. "But is there no way we could like, shrink some of my things? I don't want to have to wear the same outfit all the time."
"Yeah, I could do that for you, I guess," He said. "And I can guarantee I won't mess up as badly as you did."
The tiny colonel didn't dignify that with a response.
"So, should I…" Ed looked away. "I don't know, pick you up and take you upstairs?" He swallowed. "You know, so you can show me what you want me to shrink for you."
"Oh! Uh, yeah, I suppose that's only fitting."
Without another word, Ed picked up the small man, this time however feeling odder than the first couple of times, the reason for which he couldn't place. He ignored the feeling, flattening his flesh palm so Roy was comfortable. He then got up, made his way toward the stairs and began ascending them, careful not to accidentally drop his superior.
"Alright," He spoke. "So which room is yours?"
Roy pointed to the door nearest to them.
"Okay," He acknowledged. He opened the door to find a rather plain bedroom, suiting for a man like Roy. Queen sized bed, white sheets, room relatively tidy.
"So uh, I'm not entirely eager to dig through your things," He gulped. "But it looks like I might have to."
"It's alright," He assured. "I keep my everyday clothes in the closet; we can go through those first."
Ed nodded and walked over to the decently sized closet. He pushed open the folding double doors to see a very stately, modest wardrobe.
"So, what do you want?"
Roy squinted at his selection of clothes. "A few button ups, couple plain tees, a pair of jeans or two…" He trailed off. "Pajama pants."
Ed snickered. "Pajama pants?"
"Yes," He said. "They're comfortable."
"Alright, you pansy." He began gathering up his clothes, picking up the pajama pants last.
"No, not those!" Roy interjected. "The silk ones." Ed furrowed his brow at him, smiling, as if trying not to laugh.
"What?" He said defensively. "They're comfortable. Don't knock it until you try it, Fullmetal."
"Right," He said dismissively, finding the requested sleepwear and putting it with the rest of the clothes on his bed. "Anything else?"
His voice was considerably quieter. "I'm going to need some boxers, too."
"Dresser, right?" He walked over to it. "Which drawer?"
"Top," He informed. Ed opened the drawer slowly, as if something was going to jump out at him. He found the man's boxers in a state of complete disarray, unorganized as though they had just been haphazardly shoved in the drawer after being washed. They likely had.
"Just grab any, it doesn't matter," The tiny colonel spoke after seeing Ed's uncertain expression. The boy grabbed them quickly, feeling odd about touching his superior officer's undergarments, even if they weren't on his body and presumably clean. He quickly tossed them onto the small pile of clothes he had accumulated. He set Roy down to pick up the pile, unsure how to pick him back up after his arms were full.
"Lean down, I'll hop onto your shoulder." He looked at him hesitantly for a moment, and then did as he was told. Roy grasped onto the fabric of his overcoat, struggling to climb onto his shoulder. It took him another moment to secure his position on the younger alchemist. Ed rolled his eyes, walking toward the doorway.
"Is that absolutely it?"
"Yeah, should be," He thought aloud. "I would say you should grab some toiletries too, but-"
"Nah, we have some, anyway." With that, he went down the staircase and back to the coffee table where Roy already had the circle drawn. He moved the t-shirt, and then sat to briefly reference the textbook.
"Alright, this is pretty simple, but I have to do each garment one at a time." He looked to him, sitting on his shoulder. "I'm going to set you down, alright?"
"Please," He spoke. "You may be short but the potential fall from here is still considerable."
"Ha." He plucked him from his shoulder and set him on the armrest of the couch. "Watch how it's done, old man."
The tiny colonel rolled his eyes, but watched nonetheless. One by one, the talented alchemist placed each piece of clothing on the circle, estimated the correct size, and successfully shrunk each garment. Once his was done, he had a small pile of clothes small enough to carry in one hand. He picked up one of the t-shirts and held it out to Roy.
"You think this would fit?" He took it from him. "Or should I go smaller?"
"It should do fine, Fullmetal."
"Alright." He casually pocketed the wad of clothes and once again picked up the miniature colonel. "You ready to go?"
"Ready as I'll ever be."