A Painful Decision
*Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock*
Shou stared hopelessly into the void; his bleary, blood-shot eyes transfixed on the grandfather clock. A maddening cacophony of agonizing shrieks, groans, and distorted animalistic voices, coupled with the incessant rattling of cages, emanated from his basement. All of its walls, ceilings, and uninterrupted floor surfaces were defaced with a terrifying display of demonic arrays, transmutation circles, and alchemic symbols. Each of these experimental trials had been hastily executed: the medium of these horrid figures varied between chalk, ink, and crudely smeared animal blood. In summation, the interior of his basement appeared like something out of a nightmare.
His entire household was poorly managed: the kitchen sink was piled with a mountain of soiled dishes and cookware, and the parlor was left in an unbelievable mess; with furniture, books, and other domestic paraphernalia indiscriminately scattered out in the open. Ever since his wife had mysteriously left him two years ago, it had become impossible for him to contain the encroaching squalor that now claimed his lifestyle. The study he was working in wasn't any better; his workplace appeared to have been consumed by a swirling vortex of entropy.
With all of these accumulating sources of stress compounding into his overwhelmed psych, it was becoming increasingly difficult for Shou to focus. An almost mockingly cordial voice of impending doom echoed in his pensive mind.
"Don't forget, Mr. Tucker: Assessment day is coming soon!"
"I know…" he mumbled to himself sullenly, as if to answer that informative reminder. Beneath a pair of circular lenses, his saggy eyes swept across his desk, littered with high volume textbooks and wrinkled notes, which were scribbled with incomprehensible madness. The lingering flame of the midnight oil flickered ominously, illuminating his study with its gloomy incandescence.
Suddenly, he lifted an enormous, open textbook with his quivering, strenuous arms. It was titled The Fundamentals of Bio-Alchemy: Organic Transmutation. Even the page he was on was heavily worn and tattered, defaced with his superfluous annotations. In a maniacal frenzy, he slammed the text onto his desk, smashing all of the contents on its solid, wooden surface. An arsenal of miscellaneous laboratory utensils, including test tubes, alembics, burners, and Erlenmeyer flasks, were irreparably shattered, splashing their fluid contents all over his research documents. They were effectively drenched and ruined.
Countless hours of hard work and dedication, all wasted in his fruitless efforts! He was ashamed of his utter failure to reproduce the experiment that had earned him his state alchemist certification. It was only last year that, with confidence, he had promised the ministry that he would accomplish this particular endeavor in time for this year's annual assessment.
It was the eleventh hour of this deadline, and yet he was still the same miserable failure whose insufficient findings had severely disappointed the state military 364 days ago… The so-called "Sewing-Life Alchemist" was at the end of the line, and on the verge of losing his license and, subsequently, the appropriated research funds he most desperately needed. In utter despondence, Shou submitted himself to his ruined study desk, folding his arms over a heterogeneous mixture of soggy papers, bleeding ink, and broken glass. He was the most miserable alchemist in all of Amestris.
Suddenly, Shou was startled by the presence of his four-year-old daughter, who gazed innocently into his study with her curiously wide, glistening blue eyes. Her double-braided hair hung loosely in the candlelight, dangling over the radiant white fur of her invariable companion, Alexander, a Great Pyrenees. It was well past her bedtime. It appeared that his violent outburst, in conjunction with the incessant racket from the basement, had inadvertently awakened her.
"Daddy… Is something wrong?" she asked, innocuously.
Shou got up and turned his head, fixating on his daughter's glowing face. It reminded him too much of her mother. Subsequently, the thought of her mother invoked his recollection of his only successful transmutation of a chimera that could communicate the human tongue. He had produced it through the unspeakable transmutation between a homo sapien and a canis lupus familiaris. Although it was a legitimate experimental success, the specimen died very shortly afterwards. He could recall its distorted, canine face that whimpered incessantly to be mercifully euthanized. Its entire body was palpitating in sheer pain; the process of mutagenesis that occurred during their fusion had grossly deformed its internal organs. The only words it could ever communicate its agonizing pleas for death. That was two years ago. It was his first, and he had hoped for it to remain his last, performance of the universal taboo amongst all alchemists: human transmutation. Of course, this remained a solemn secret that he never shared with another living soul.
Even with the abundant resources available to him, it was virtually impossible for him to recreate that chimera as a perfected, survivable form. To transmute such a specimen without the use of another human body, or a philosopher's stone, is simply inconceivable. Yet, the military ward was expecting just that.
"Nina," he calmly responded, "Daddy's got an important assessment tomorrow. You see, last year, your Daddy didn't get a very good evaluation. Unless I do something really impressive this year, I won't be a state alchemist anymore."
The characteristically foreboding glare in his research glasses, reflecting the flickering candlelight, was very gaunt as he stared down upon his earnest daughter.
"Huh?" she proclaimed astonishingly, "No, you'll do just fine, Daddy! I know you will. You're always studying so much…"
"You're right, Nina…," he professed, "I must try hard…"
Unfortunately, she was naively ignorant of a cruel, pragmatic world that valued results over effort. Nina could still notice the grave expression of disbelief in her worrisome father. With her left, infantile arm around Alexander's scruffy white collar, she approached Shou comfortingly. Alexander was nevertheless rambunctious, as he always is, exhaling in a playful manner.
"Don't worry, Daddy!" she excitedly exclaimed, "If those people do tell you 'no', me and Alexander will growl at them until they say 'yes'!"
Shou was indescribably shocked by this unwarranted prospect; a warped interpretation of Nina's playful and purely innocent gesture. Her angelic benignity had always been a primary source of motivation for his tedious endeavors, but tonight the gravity of the situation called for something far much more.
Shou reached over to his desk, and stiffly grasped his chained silver pocket watch, the proof of his state alchemist certification. Engraved on it was the Ouroboros: the immortal dragon devouring its tail. A symbol of renewal and infinite perpetuation, it had been chosen as the official emblem of the alchemist-based government in Amestris. Its reflective surface glistened vibrantly in the weak candlelight. Right now, he needed divine inspiration to save his career, his passion, his way of life.
He vowed that he would never revert to the miserable existence in the slums of the Central City, the very life he had worked so hard to get out of by earning his state alchemist certification. He couldn't even imagine returning to those wretched days of poverty and meaninglessness, coupled with domestic discord and endless pathetic squabbles with his wife, back when she was with him.
Fixating on his daughter's brimming youth and innocence, he was reminded of the Elric brothers. Shou then reflected over that precocious child prodigy of short stature yet extraordinary talent. He had proven his merits in the field of alchemy at the age of eleven, when he attempted to transmute his deceased mother. Just recently, that very alchemist had passed the State Alchemist Exam with flying colors, joining the ranks of the esteemed state alchemists. He had been christened as the "Full Metal Alchemist," an honorary title bestowed upon him by the Führer himself! Such an achievement is one that many alchemists can only dream of accomplishing in their entire lives. His uprising youth strongly juxtaposed Shou's impending failure to retain his own state alchemist certification.
"Daddy… Is there any way I can help?" inquired Nina, whose eagerness had droned deep into her father's heart. By now he was emotionally shattered, for he took Nina's suggestions far beyond the wildest intent her purely childish mind could ever even fathom.
"Oh, Nina…" he softly spoke, trying his best to maintain his studious composure. His eyes were watering uncontrollably, and he was on the verge of bursting into a fountain of electrolytic tears. He was precariously torn between his obligation to the military as a state alchemist and his role as a father. Nina was so precious to him. He loved his daughter invaluably, for she was the only lasting legacy of the woman he once loved, long ago…
Then it dawned upon him. Shou remembered his promise to those boys: that they would be the first ones to see the fruits of his experimentation, the results that would win over the evaluators at Assessment Day. They were his divine inspiration, and in their anticipations for his research in the field of Bio-Alchemy, they would be the ones who would be most impressed by his results. The military also held high prospects for his research; for why else would they provide him with an enormous manor estate and advanced alchemical resources? He could not afford to fail either of them. Not as a state alchemist, nor as a man of science.
In an extremely remote and twisted sense of understanding, Shou realized what was expected of him. He quietly approached his daughter and, with his right hand, affectionately caressed her head; his worn, callous fingers sifting slowly through her glossy brown hair. In the same manner, he lightly patted Alexander with his left hand, satisfying the dog's constant desire to be included in all family matters. He had made his decision.
"Nina," he assured her in the fondest and most fatherly manner he had ever communicated in his entire life, "You know how much I love you…"
Warmly embracing her weary father, Nina's eyes softly closed as she savored what could be described as the happiest moment in her life.