New
York
1952
Ed jumped to his left and got hit with Al's right
hand. "Shit!" Ed exclaimed as he hit the ground and forced
himself up. "When did you get so good? I can't even get a punch
in." Ed asked after being blocked.
Al chuckled and said, "You
never could because you were always so short. Besides, I trained with
sensei after you left. You remember her old saying, 'In order to
train the mind, you must first train the body.'"
"Yeah, I
know. HEY! Who are you calling so short that he would get eaten if
sitting on a grain of rice?!" Ed said as he tried and failed to
block Al's side kick.
"Brother! I didn't say that!" Al
said, trying to redeem himself. He blocked one of Ed's fakes and
got nailed in the stomach.
"Come on Al, I'm tired. Besides,
our train arrives in half an hour anyway." Ed said, wiping sweat
off his forehead. He had never seen a train station so forsaken. He
picked up his bag and went over to a bench.
Al sat down beside
him, hoping they were in the right station. There were a few vendors
that said they didn't mind if they sparred a little and were quite
interested in the young boys' fighting. They gave a little applause
as they sat down and went back to reading or whatever they were doing
before.
Ed stretched his legs out and told Al to wake him when the
train arrived. Al said okay and sat wondering what he should do. He
looked down at the floor and found a piece of chalk that a child
must've been playing with. There was already graffiti in spray
paint everywhere, what would a little chalk hurt? Al climbed off the
bench and sat on his knees.
He rolled the piece of chalk in his
hand uneasily. He knew what was about to happen. Nothing. Ed had
described over and over that alchemy didn't work on this side of
the gate and that it was futile to try. Instead, they should
concentrate their energy on adapting to their surroundings and
finding a way to fit into the new world. It was hard to see all the
familiar faces of their friends and not think about home, even just a
little.
He started with a simple circle and slowly put different
designs in it. A bead of blood fell down Al's arm and onto the
array. He must've hurt himself when they were sparring. Al sat
looking at the long forgotten transmutation circle. He had
unintentionally created the one they had used when they tried to
bring their mom back to life. He squinted at the memories of his body
in the gate. He would never tell his brother, but he remembers
sitting in the gate for those years. He saw the faces of all who died
and passed through, looking at him, not quite dead.
He looked at
the dirty clock on the wall to check how long until the train came.
10 minutes. He knew that he should wake up his brother now,
recognizing that his brother would take 5 minutes to actually
acknowledge him and 5 more minutes to get his lazy ass off the bench.
He looks at his brother, his chest rising and falling as he breathes.
Breaths assuring that he is still alive and reminds him that they're
together again. That they're both alive.
Placing his hands just
above the array, he prays a silent prayer. He himself had stopped
believing a while ago, just as his brother had, but maybe, with a
little help- He placed his hand on the circle wanting to do
something, anything, to get hope back. A little transmutation would
be sufficient, even if it just moved a stone. He knew that if he were
at home, that complicated of an array would do much more than move a
stone. He thought he saw a faint light appear as the early train
screeched into the train station but convinced himself that it was
just the lights of the train.
They boarded the train just as the
doors were closing. As usual, Ed took forever to wake up. When the
train had left, one of the vendors who had watched Al draw went over
to the bench. He looked down at a complicated circle and a small
statue of the guy that had been sleeping on the bench.
Ed
somehow managed to fall asleep again on the train. They were only
going to Queens where they had found a cheap room that suited both of
them. Ed worked in a restaurant where he could keep up to date with
the latest information on the war. He wanted to make sure that no one
else would try to open the gate. Any time he heard anything about
Germany claiming to have a "special weapon" he became immediately
interested. Al worked down the street selling papers, as he was not
old enough to have a full-time job but also worked helping unload
ships that came into the harbor.
Al looked out at the bleak city.
It started to drizzle lightly and many passengers had their windows
up creating a refreshing mist that hit Al in the face. He had
forgotten how much he missed the rain. The warm spring air made him
not mind the rain. He thought it was quite serene. Al tried to calm
his mind. He wondered that if he could find a way to do alchemy, if
he could just open the gate… he wanted to go home. He wanted to see
Winry, transmute…for God's sake he just wanted to go home.
A
small tear formed in his eye. He finally realized that every time he
thought about this, he was just kidding himself. He wasn't sure
that he could handle another failure so he thought about a plan that
would work, no matter what. He would either be home, or he'd be
dead. Either way, it was better than being here. This world was so
sad, so poverty stricken, losing sight of what it meant to actually
live life for what it was worth. He sat thinking the entire way home.
Before their stop, he had half of a plan and a full mind of hope and
will.
