Author's Notes

Another short fic. I cant seem to write full length ones lately. *sighs inwardly*

Anyway, this is set after the movie, Conqueror of Shamballa for the most part, just before the end bit once Al's hair has been cut, and just born off a curious thought as to why Al kept his hair long and then cut it short for the epilogue of the movie.

Enjoy, and tell me what you think.

Hair-Cut

Ed couldn't help but wonder why Al had kept his hair long. Especially since all it did was cause people to mix the two up.

Edward E & Alphonse E

Genre/s: Family/Humour

Rating: K+

'Honestly,' Alphonse mumbled to himself, shedding the red coat (which had once belonged to his brother's closet) and draping it over a chair. 'Why does this world think I'm you and you're me? It tends to get even us and Noah mixed up at times.'

'It's probably the hair,' Edward quipped from the couch, where he set aside the book he had been absorbed in.

'Maybe,' the younger Elric mused thoughtfully, fingering the long golden hair, worn as his brother used to and still did, though for the last two years on a more regular basis. A slightly nostalgic look overcame his features as he remembered his brother growing out his own hair, a stubborn streak which had aimed to set him above his father's pedestal in terms of more than simply alchemy while at the same time showing the innate love he couldn't deny above his hatred for the man. In past sense, one should say, as father and son had eventually come to terms with their past...and one could not really bring himself to hate a dead man who sacrificed his life for his son's happiness.

'Why do you keep your hair long?' Ed asked, swinging his legs off the couch while gesturing his brother to it.

Al took the hint, plopping beside his brother, mulling over the thoughts in his head before formulating an answer. 'I guess I didn't want to forget you. Winry told me you used to keep your hair long, so I grew mine out during the time I trained again with Teacher, so I could look in the mirror and remember you...'

'I'm here now,' the elder blonde said, slightly awkward at his brother's statement but still oddly touched. 'And I'm...sorry I wasn't there for you before-'

'That's not your fault,' the other cut in sternly. 'It's thanks to you I'm even still alive.'

'And it's thanks to you that I am,' the elder rebuked.

'Twice over for me.'

'Hell, the first was my fault to begin with.'

'It was ours. We made that choice together, and together we paid the price for it.'

'We sure did.'

The two were silent for awhile, comfortably seated together on the brown couch while reminiscing about the past.

'Who was it this time?' Ed wandered aloud. 'Hughes? He's always doing that'

'No,' the younger laughed. 'Klose actually.'

'That little brat.' It came out affectionate though. That was, after all, his way. 'Don't the bangs give it away? Or the eyes?'

'Or the attitude?' Al teased.

'Hey! I've gotten better.'

'True.'

The silence stretched again comfortably. 'The long hair's uncomfortable anyway,' the younger Elric mused. 'How do you deal with it?'

'How do you?' the elder shot back.

'I dunno.' The boy shrugged. 'There was something reassuring, something telling me you were still out there, somewhere. Now though, it's getting to be a pain in the neck. Literally, as well as figuratively.'

Ed chuckled, before standing and causing the couch to groan as the weight lifted. 'Where are you going?' his brother asked curiously, as the nineteen year old vanished through a doorway.

'Fixing your "pain in the neck",' the other replied, reappearing with a pair of shears.

Al gaped at him. 'You're going to cut my hair?'

'That would fix all the problems associated with it,' Ed pointed out, giving them an experimental snip in the air.

'Yeah...well, you're not coming near me with those!'

'Aww...you don't trust me?'

'I trust you, just not with cutting my hair. Remember what you did to Winry's?'

'Come on, I was six.'

'Still.'

'That eager brother?'

'I'd like to go a few months without an identity crisis.'

'True.'

'So..?'

'I think I'll take my chances with the barber.'

Ed shrugged, depositing the shears. 'It's your funeral.'