The Cricket.
Al is six, so the world is bright, shinny and new. Everything is a splendid adventure waiting to happen, if only he's ready to leap into the unknown. And Ed is seven, a whole year older and wiser and braver and stronger; Ed is his anchor as he sails through adventures and misfortunes, learning something new each day.Today, Al convinces their mother that he's big enough to stay up an hour or two after dusk, to accompany Ed in his hunt. It makes Alphonse feel inordinately proud, because it means he's grown, and he's giddy all dinner, shifting in his chair and hoping the meal is over so he can go run in the tall grass with his brother, at night.
Ed wants to know everything there is to be known about the world, just like their father, so he's started a vast collection of insects to study and learn from. Their father smiles indulgently at every new addition and spends precious moments with Ed while he tells him about each particular creature. Alphonse doesn't have a collection to show their father – yet – and thus he has never stayed up a little past his bedtime talking with him about the small changes in Ed caterpillars as they slowly turn into butterflies.
Tonight he's going out, though, and he'll catch an insect of his own and start his own collection, because he's big enough now, and then he'll spend time with their father too. He's not jealous of Ed, of course, because Ed has been helping him gather the jars he'll need and giving him tips about the types of weed he needs to feed his collection or how to pin the dead bugs so they don't crumble away.
They spend their precious extra hour of night searching for the right bug, because Ed says Al has to start his collection with something good, not just a common thing. Ed wants Al to have the best collection ever, because he's the best big brother anyone could ask for, and it makes the younger boy practically glow with pride and love.
In the end, they catch a violently red cricket after twenty minutes of chasing it around the grass. They almost lost it for a moment and Al panicked for a second, but then Ed saw it again and everything was okay. Al puts it inside his jar and walks back home with a spring in his steps. Once inside, he proudly labels the bottle and feels like he's about to burst when their father pats his head and comments on what a special cricket that is.
That night, as they snuggle together in their shared bed – Al could never really sleep alone, and by the time they were five, their mother had given up on trying to make them sleep on different beds – Al spares a glance to the lone jar on his side of their desk, glinting faintly with the light that sneaks in from the window. He smiles broadly, and promises to himself to forever cherish that jar and the very rare cricket inside. After all, it's brought him closer to his brother and his father, it's a sign he's growing and turning into someone better.
He can't know that the day will come when his father will be gone, his brother will change and his body will be taken away, that one day, after committing the worst sin there is, he and his brother would stand impassively as their home was burned to ashes. Al doesn't know he'll leave his cricket – the only item in his collection – behind once everything falls apart, because right now he's six and happy and growing, and the melancholic music of the tiny insect is soothing rather than prophetic. He doesn't know, but he will, in time.