Written for LJ community fanfic_bakeoff with the prompt "distort". Pre-series.
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It was a study on human behavior—how far a person could be pushed before they lashed out, before they fought back. Kimbley turned the thought over in his mind, painted the picture of the outcome with eagerness. He was still young, he decided. It made sense, in that vein of thought, that he should toe the line more often than not, that the flawed logic of 'good and evil' should still be worth questioning.
Sixteen years to the moment he saw his alchemy in practice, and every second until then had been more than worth the wait. He was his art.
"What's wrong with you?" His mother looked vaguely alarmed when he came into the kitchen. He wondered for a moment what gave him away, but quickly discarded the thought. It was something to consider later.
"Nothing," he said calmly, quick to adopt a disarming smile, the product of his studies. Humanity was simply that, an act, one that Kimbley lived and breathed every moment of every day.
A moment of hesitation, then his mother returned the smile, her face relaxing. "Dinner will be ready soon," she said, and turned back to the counter.
Kimbley, still smiling pleasantly, removed his hands from his pockets and pulled them free of the bandages.