A/m: Hey minna, Admin here! This is my first ever Fullmetal Alchemist story! Yay! *cue clapping* Anywho, please read, review. No flames unless you are a fire type pokemon. :D Now. Back to the story...

Sixteen year old Elicia Hughes was cleaning her room when it happened. She was standing on her toes, her fingers stretched up to reach the pile of stuff from the top of her closet, when a box crashed to her feet, the items within scattering over the floor. "Damn it," she cursed under her breath and quickly moved to her knees to put the items back into the box. She wasn't paying much attention to the papers as she threw them into the cardboard structure, until the gleam of a glossed picture caught her green eyes. She picked the picture up slowly, holding it in her fingers as if it was a valuable and delicate treasure. Green hues studied the picture, taken from when she was a child. Her dad had her in one arm, and her mother in the other, and they all looked so happy. Elicia realized with startled suddenness that she didn't remember this picture being taken, in fact she didn't remember much at all.

It had been thirteen years since her father's murder, and the girl was starting to forget certain things about him- How he smelled, the way his eyes would crinkle when he smiled, even his voice was becoming a distant, faint memory to her. Tears welled up in her eyes and trailed down her cheeks as she gently traced her fathers face with one finger, though she didn't notice until a large, salty water drop plopped onto the picture, over her own smiling three year old face. It was like a flood gate had been released within her, and the girl clutched the picture to her chest as loud sobs escaped her. She bowed her head as she cried, her brown hair falling like a veil over her face.

Gracia Hughes was in the kitchen, setting out frozen chicken to thaw for dinner, when she heard her daughters strangled cries. Unsure what was going on, the middle-aged woman quickly made her way to Elicia's door and knocked once upon the wooden surface. "Elicia, baby? What is wrong?" she questioned as she slowly pushed the door open. "Mama?" Elicia looked up then, still holding the picture against her heart, her eyes puffy as tears continued to stream down her face. "What did daddy smell like?" she asked in a whisper. Her mother rarely talked about her father, it was too painful, and they had only visited his grave a handful of times. Now, Gracia had put one slender hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp of surprise, and she moved to kneel next to her daughter, pulling the younger girl into her arms. "Oh, honey." she said softly as she embraced her daughter, the picture becoming sandwiched between the Hughes women.

The way Elicia had asked, it was so innocent, and that was what broke Gracia inside. She should have talked about him more, should have told her daughter about how wonderful he was. Guilt and grief crashed over her in waves, and she was only able to let out a whispered answer over the growing lump in her throat. "He smelled... Like peppermints and sunshine."

The tears came sudden and unyielding, and they clung to each other as they cried for their loss. Later, whether ten minutes or ten hours, they didn't know, they were both cried out. Gracia lifted her head first, with Elicia following suit, and smiled sadly at her daughter. "Get freshened up and we will go visit... His grave." She said as she stood. Elicia simply nodded and put the picture gingerly into the box.

Once both ladies had cleaned up and became presentable, they left their house, walking silently down the streets. In town square, Gracia bought a bouquet of white daises and handed them to her daughter. "Your father loved these flowers," she told her, and then they made their way to the Cemetery. A light drizzling rain began to fall upon them as they walked amongst the tombstones, and Elicia silently wondered if it was her father crying for them from his place in Heaven- if there was really such a thing.

The younger Hughes made it to the tombstone which belonged to her father first, and she gently brushed some leaves off the cold concrete surface before kneeling in the wet grass, not caring if it ruined her clothes. She laid the flowers down in front of her, the petals starting to sag under the rain- which was beginning to come down harder now, and stared at the name on the stone, his name running through her mind over and over again. 'Maes Hughes.'

"Oh, daddy." She whispered to the slab of concrete. When her father first died, Elicia was too young to understand what had happened. She had sadly demanded that the strange men stop burying her daddy. Now, at sixteen years old, she understood what had happened, and she knew that he would never be going to work again, that she would never touch him again or feel his strong embrace- It was like she was losing him all over again, the pain of grief nearly tearing her apart. Tears and rain mixed and fell upon the beautiful white daises, the flowers becoming drenched with the sadness of losing such a wonderful person who's death was undeserved.

Fin.