When I started this, I called it Memories. I changed the title because of a prompt to be seen later.
So, once upon a time, this fanfiction was called 'Memories.' I changed it.
I've been thinking a long, long time on this. Memories is also one of the RoyAi prompts, so I thought, 'I definitely have to change the title eventually!' But I'm kind of fail when it comes to titles…
If you want to read through my rambling of how Not Quite Synchronicity became the title, here's what I spent the good part of an extremely hot afternoon on, reading things I could grasp but not really. There's a shorter version, which was the most coherent part that explained my point, below. I separated it for those who want to skip my waxing philosophical. Enjoy:
Summarized version:
Synchronicity is the experience of two or more events that are apparently causally unrelated occurring together in a meaningful manner. To count as synchronicity, the events should be unlikely to occur together by chance.
RoyAi isn't exactly 'causally unrelated,' because they exert influence over each other. Even so, I feel Synchronicity somewhat applies. They are meaningful, they are together (not in the way we'd like, yet, but there's hope). The difference is it's not fully coincidence, because they both strive for something, they work for something, and they ultimately make their future instead of waiting for fate to smash them together (though that isn't unwelcome either, is it?). It's not strictly 'Cause and Effect' because it's RoyAi. It's… well, 'Not Quite Synchronicity.'
Their meeting at Ishbal explains it best, I think. It's very literally not quite Synchronicity. I mean, it's not exactly that because he caused her presence there, somehow, so it's really not fully 'causally unrelated.' It would be a perfect example of Synchronicity if she hadn't known he was in the military. I mean, what are the chances of them randomly meeting in the middle of the battlefield? Of her saving his life the first time she saw him again? The thing is, though, that it's not quite Synchronicity because she knew he'd be there in the military, somewhere. Their meeting then was something she had thought of, probably, once. Not a planned encounter, but an anticipated one. In that case, it's not purely Synchronicity because his being in the military was causal to her joining it, but it's not like he knew, and she probably didn't expect to meet him so soon. See the beauty?
Ramble of the better part of an afternoon:
Synchronicity is the experience of two or more events that are apparently causally unrelated occurring together in a meaningful manner. To count as synchronicity, the events should be unlikely to occur together by chance.
… reading on deep Psych stuff I can't seem to fully appreciate, but I can try (I might butcher it, though), it seems that it's different from (but not contradictory to) causality, that is to say, cause and effect. Carl Gustav Jung coined the term, and described it as "acausal connecting principle", "meaningful coincidence" and "acausal parallelism".
Well, I feel that there's some causality involved (they're both too stubborn to be otherwise,) but I feel that there are moments of synchronicity (but not quite.) They do come together meaningfully, not exactly as 'cause and effect,' but also not exactly 'coincidentally.'
I mean, if it would be fully Synchronicity, then it would be like they were thrust together by fate. It's not like that to me. For me, their relationship is more than that, because they actively seek to support each other. But it's also not Cause and Effect strictly, because it would mean that… um, that would make me think Riza does what she does because of Roy, end of story. I feel their goal is further than that, deeper than that. It's not just, 'he did this, so she did that,' or 'she did this, so he did that.' I mean, I feel he does things for her and vice versa, but it's not always.
Cause and Effect seems, to me, to be purely scientific. Like B is fully dependent on A. Like the meaningfulness can be stripped away easily. It seems 'relativity and quantum mechanics have forced physicists to abandon these assumptions as exact statements of what happens at the most fundamental levels' (which explains why I'm not making much sense), 'but they remain valid at the level of human experience.' In which case, we can observe cause and effect happening, but it's definitely not RoyAi as that pairing is relative. -.- So they are not Cause and Effect. (Say what?)
There is meaningfulness, still. If their goals didn't overlap, surely she wouldn't have joined the military. They are connected, but it's not all simply coincidence (because they do things for each other, because they work hard.) Did that make sense?
…But I feel personally that their remeeting at Ishbal explains it best. It's very literally not quite Synchronicity. I mean, it's not exactly that because he caused her presence there, somehow, so it's not fully 'causally unrelated.' It would be a perfect example of Synchronicity if she hadn't known he was in the military. I mean, what are the chances of them randomly meeting in the middle of the battlefield? Of her saving his life? The thing is, though, that it's not quite Synchronicity because she knew he'd be there in the military, somewhere. Their meeting then was something she had thought of, probably, once. Not a planned encounter, but an anticipated one. In that case, it's not purely Synchronicity because his being in the military was causal to her joining it, but it's not like he knew, and she probably didn't expect to meet him so soon. See the beauty?
Am I making sense? I don't think so.
… If someone understands philosophy more than me and knows a better, more fitting term for their relationship, please tell. If someone is displeased or does not see my logic, I welcome messages to work the concept out.
Thus, the not very imaginative title of 'Not Quite Synchronicity.' (It comes pretty close, though?) Because they make their future. I think I kind of like it.
Anyhow, even if it's not quite accurate, and I've been rambling for ages, I think I like this. Anyways, it's a title, right?
Hundred Themes RoyAi - 020
Murderer
Ah, yes. The informal 'You' form of writing. It's totally not in my grammar book, and I think my English teacher would throw a fit if she would see it.
EDIT: I've been informed that second person is a valid, perfectly usable form, albeit uncommon except in fanfiction. I still say it's fun to write. Also reposted for grammatical errors.
Mr. Hughes was talking with someone.
You are high up in some obscure location, to watch the soldiers.
A battlefield is full of the dead and the dying. The latter of which could still be dangerous.
You scan the battlefield.
After Hughes was swooning, probably over some girlfriend of his, that would be common camp knowledge the way he talked about it to anyone and everyone... and his companion says something for him to shut up.
You can't see his companion, Mr. Hughes was facing you.
Short, dark hair. In uniform. That was all you could tell, from your current position.
You see movement. You focus on them, you prepare your gun, training the lens on the attacker not five feet away.
They don't notice.
A man rises behind them ominously.
They move for their weapons quickly, Mr. Hughes managing to get his knives out, but his companion fumbling.
Unarmed.
You have to do your duty, of course.
The man was headed for the kill, doomed to death and desperate to take someone with him.
You aim and fire, efficiently reloading just as he is knocked to the side, a bullet through the temple.
Your hands do not shake.
You see Mr. Hughes' companion exclaim, hurriedly putting his gloves on, with a feral light in his eyes, whirling in your general direction.
Mr. Hughes says something, probably about you, placating him somewhat.
That man always had some affinity with news.
And gossip.
Perhaps he was an old woman...
You gasp softly as you study his companion.
It's Mr. Mustang.
How long has it been...?
And you could swear that he looked in your direction with something like familiarity.
Like a forgotten memory about to resurface.
He looks at your direction, like he's trying to see you, the young girl all those months and years ago.
You put your gun down. Your shift was over five minutes ago.
You look at you hands.
Your hands are red with the lives of hundreds, though it is rare for you to even see your target's face.
Something about him makes you feel like the lost little girl you once were.
He looks like he's looking for something. Or someone.
Mr Hughes spots you first, and he's thanking you. For saving them.
You stand up, facing him.
The hood falls from your face.
He gasps, not exaggeratedly, but a small one of true, honest surprise.
You look out of place in the field, your uniform looks far too large for your slender frame.
Nineteen years old, and already a bloodstained killer.
A murderer.
"It's been a while, Mr. Mustang," you say.
Mr. Hughes looks surprised.
His eyes widen in recognition, like one who knew something but hoped it wasn't true.
He looks at you with a strange mix of emotions.
Is that horror on his face?
You have killed, after all.
Just like anyone else here.
"No, perhaps I should call you Major Mustang now."
It was a reminder you were in the army now, too.
Chained to a thankless life where you are forced to take the lives of innocents.
He has yet to speak, you almost smile, but you haven't smiled in months, you aren't quite sure if you remember how.
It was odd. He used to be extremely eloquent, giving long flowery speeches that made girls swoon.
"Have you begun to remember?" You ask, your face haunted and tired, gaunt from long shifts and sleep deprivation.
Mr. Hughes is looking at you oddly.
Perhaps he thought you were a vengeful ex-girlfriend or something.
You knew Mr. Mustang had at least ten of those.
And that was several years ago. You wonder how many vengeful ex-girlfriends he has now.
You almost smile when you remember those vain airheaded girls who clung to him so close you asked him if he was getting them surgically removed.
"... How could I forget," he says, and you seem him appraising you.
You probably looked terrible, though he wouldn't tell you that. Your eyes were sharper, more emotionless. Almost glacial.
There were dark rings under your eyes.
Your hands were bruised, callused. Actually, your entire body was bruised.
Half healed injuries dotted your skin.
You were also thin, unnaturally so.
It was an inside joke that soldiers didn't look far off from the corpses in the field.
Somehow, you've changed in his eyes.
From the teacher's daughter to this soldier with a heavy burden.
You are a murderer, several times over.
And the strangest thing is that you wouldn't be here had it not been for the man standing in front of you.