Chapter 2
Mattas slowed the car and turned into a tiny corner parking lot. Andakar glanced at the clock display on the stereo. "Do we have time for this?"
"Relax." Mattas got out of the car. "It'll only be a couple of minutes. I'm not giving up my morning rituals for you."
Andakar opened his door with a sense of resignation. He had no right to object, really. Mattas had already done so much for him. He followed his brother into the coffee shop. Above the door was a dark-stained rectangle of plywood surrounded by a frame painted green. In a sweeping script were the words Le Sorelle—Coffee, Pastry, Sandwiches. The glass exterior was painted to look as though you were looking through a garden. It was probably a very inviting place.
A bell tinkled as Mattas pushed the door open and Andakar followed him in. There were other people lined up at the counter, and Andakar despaired of getting out of here in a timely manner. The other patrons glanced at the newcomers and a couple of them nodded to Mattas. He nodded back. It was all very casual and relaxed, which was all right for some.
A dark-haired woman behind the counter turned to them and smiled. Lucy was the woman that his brother had been seeing for the past few months. According to Mattas, her full name was Lucia, and her sister Rosa, or just Rose, had opened this coffee shop several years ago. Their parents had owned a restaurant in their native Aerugo before fleeing the political turmoil there. Andakar had met her only a few times since his arrival in Amestris a month ago. He had turned down invitations to join the two of them for dinner or some other outing.
Also behind the counter was a round, bald man with a soft, almost childlike voice with an accent. He gave Mattas a quick wave before setting a couple of steaming brown paper cups on the counter in front of a pair of customers.
The two worked quickly, and the line moved accordingly. It really was only a matter of a few minutes before they reached the counter. Lucy let out a long sigh and leaned her arms on top of the cash register. "Hello, sweetie," she said to Mattas. Her voice was pleasantly low.
Mattas leaned in to kiss her. "Hi!" He turned to the man behind the counter. "How's it going, Gleb?"
The round man bobbed his head. "Khorosho!" he replied in what Andakar recognized as Drachmani. "Is good! Can't complain, you know?"
Lucy turned her violet eyes to Andakar. She always seemed to be giving him some sort of subtle appraisal. "Well, hello, stranger. Nice of you to drop by!"
Mattas nodded, giving him an affectionately proud look that he didn't feel he deserved. "Yeah. Finally got him here."
Lucy shook her finger at him. "One of these days, you're coming over for lasagna, capisce?"
Andakar could only nod, not having any jovial reply at the ready. Inwardly he despaired.
"I thought Rose was going to be here," Mattas said, thankfully changing the subject. "She got back late last night, didn't she?"
Lucy gave a roll of her eyes. "Yeah, she's here. I mean she's at home. She isn't up to making new friends just yet."
Mattas had said something about Lucy's sister Rose having lost her fiancé three months ago to a terminal illness and she was devastated. It was sad, but Andakar was not in a state to process other people's grief or their family dramas. He did, however, sympathize with the need to withdraw from the world.
Mattas gave a slight nod. "Still hurting, huh?"
Gleb let out a sigh and pressed a hand to his chest. "Her heart," he said, his "h's" pronounced with a softly guttural sound, "is still broke."
"Yeah, well she's gonna be broke if she can't pull herself together," Lucy responded. She looked at Mattas with weary exasperation. "Once he got her on the train, Papa called me and said she seemed to be doing better, but…" She lifted her hands in an expression of frustration. "Non so che cosa fare!"
Gleb shook his head sadly and turned to wipe the steam spigots on the large copper espresso machine. "Shto'zh podyelayesh?"
"Well, if there's anything I can do, let me know," Mattas said. "Maybe I can talk to somebody in the Psych department or maybe the Health Center."
Lucy brightened a little, giving him an affectionate smile with a hint of seduction. "You're such a sweetheart!" She clapped her hands together. "So, the usual?" Mattas nodded and Lucy turned to Andakar. "How about you?"
Andakar shrugged. He didn't even want to be here. "Just coffee."
"Just plain old coffee?" Lucy's lip curled a little teasingly. "Not Ishvalan style?"
He looked at her blankly. He didn't know there was such a thing.
Mattas chuckled. "She means a red eye. That's what the other place calls them. Coffee with a shot of espresso."
Gleb was already preparing two portafilters with finely ground coffee. "Ready in a jif!" He held up two pudgy fingers. "Two jifs!"
Andakar glanced at the clock and Mattas caught him doing it. "You will not be late," he said firmly. "You've got plenty of time. We left really early."
There was no blame in him voice, but Andakar took it anyway. "Sorry," he mumbled. He looked back at Lucy. "Ishvalan style will be fine."
Mattas seemed pleased. "And they've got honey pastry, too." He pointed at the glass case below the counter that displayed a variety of breads and pastries. "Almost as good as Mother makes."
That actually caught Andakar's attention and he couldn't help a glance toward the pastry case. "Really?"
Gleb bobbed his head a couple of times. "I got good making fyil!"
That was impressive. A Drachman living in Amestris making Ishvalan pastry. Andakar had a flash of a memory of sitting near the kitchen table watching his mother painstakingly rolling dough until it was as thin as parchment. Back when life had a simplicity that was almost unimaginable now.
Mattas grinned. "We'll take four of those."
The two behind the counter burst into action. Lucy poured out two cups of coffee, tipping a beaker of espresso into each of them. Gleb wrapped up the honey pastry and slipped them into a paper bag. In a matter of seconds, their order was on the counter.
"Thanks!" Mattas handed Andakar one of the cups then handed Lucy some money. "And there's no need to rush Rose on our account, but I'd really like to finally meet her."
Lucy waved her hand. "I'll get started on that lasagna and have you guys over soon. Then she can't escape." She moved out from behind the counter and wrapped her arms around Mattas' neck. He had a coffee cup in one hand and a bag of pastry in the other, but he leaned down to kiss her. "I'll call you later," she promised.
"Sounds good."
They headed toward the door and Lucy called out, "Good luck, Andakar! Educate the hell outta those little shits!"
He glanced back and nodded at her interesting choice of words of encouragement. They got back in the car and Mattas handed him the bag of pastry. "So, what do you think?"
Andakar took a sip of his coffee. It was very good, relentlessly strong. But he wondered if he really needed that much caffeine right now. "About Lucy? She seems nice," he replied, telling Mattas what he wanted to hear and keeping it short.
Mattas nodded. He backed the car out, saying, "I really want you to come when she asks us over for dinner."
Andakar took another swallow of coffee so he didn't have to speak for a moment. He would rather not go. He knew his brother meant well, telling him he needed to "work on his socialization skills." He only barely felt human and a social life was the last thing he wanted right now. He needed to get up in the morning, go to work, teach mathematics, and go home. But not only was he obliged to respect his brother as the elder, he owed Mattas for taking him in and helping him find his job. He knew his parents loved him, but he had become…an embarrassment was the truest way to put it. They loved him but they couldn't get him on the train fast enough. Mattas had welcomed him without prying. But that was because he probably already knew everything.
"Yes, of course I'll come," he replied finally. "But don't expect me to be very good company." He didn't mean that out of spite. He knew what his limitations were.
Mattas just shrugged as he pulled out into traffic. "You don't have to be. But it'll be a start."
Maes Hughes stood leaning against the open door of his classroom as students filtered in. "Here we go! Another day in paradise!" he declared.
Other than a nod to acknowledge that cheerful piece of irony, Andakar had no reply. He was already speechless. He knew Amestrian schools were different. He thought he was prepared. But the shouting, the jostling, the slamming of locker doors in the hallways seemed closer to the cacaphony of the damned than paradise.
He stepped into his own classroom, across the hall from Hughes'. It was already nearly full, with a few more students entering. It was not as noisy in here as in the hallway, but it was still not what he was used to. What he was used to was sudden quiet and the sound of students rising from their seats in respect as he entered the room. He already knew that wasn't going to happen. If he could simply latch onto the basic familiarity of standing in front of a classroom of students, that should be enough.
He had mentally prepared himself for what came next but that didn't make it any easier to endure. A gradual hush fell over the room, punctuated by a few whispers. He glanced up to catch the majority of the students staring at him. Not at his chuva or his painstakingly tied tie. Their gazes lifted a little higher than that, to his forehead. The moment his eyes swept the room, they all looked away, suddenly fascinated by their desks, their books, their pencils, each other. He had either awed or repulsed them. He told himself he didn't really care.
Actually, not all of them looked away. One young man sitting a couple of seats from the front still had his eyes fixed on the scar with a slight frown on his face. His look was almost distracted, as though he didn't even realize he was staring. Andakar focused on the young man's eyes, which were a curious shade of gold. His hair was long and tied back in a braid. Andakar was aware that the school dress code did not require that boys keep their hair short, as long as it was kept somehow restrained. He had noticed that another boy in the room was apparently testing the limits of the dress code by merely keeping his dreadlocks in place with a headband. Parents had apparently complained about the prohibition of "personal expression." Andakar was mystified, but there it was.
As soon as the golden-eyed young man realized that his stare was being reciprocated, he frowned a little and looked down as the spiral-bound notebook in front of him. He slipped a pen out from where it had been stored within the coil of the wire spiral and gave it a few clicks.
The bell rang, breaking the spell that seemed to have fallen over the room. The students shifted in their seats, having processed their surprise at his disfigurement and hopefully prepared to move on. Andakar looked across the faces before him.
"Good morning," he said.
He knew he wouldn't here a respectful murmured chorus of good morning, Zhaarad from them. There were one or two subdued replies of 'morning, a few hi's, a couple of s'up's, and a yo.
He pulled his binder and the stack of syllabi from his satchel. Opening up the binder he went on. "My name is Andakar Ruhad. When I call your name, please raise your hand and say 'here.'"
He started through the alphabetical list of names. The first one had caught his interest immediately because the last name was Ishvalan. "Rik Arber."
"Here," a voice from the back of the class replied. The boy had been slouching in his seat with a ball cap on his head. He raised his hand and peeked up under the bill of his cap, revealing scarlet eyes and tawny brown skin. He might have been hiding his face to escape notice, and he was not wearing a chuva. There could have been several reasons why, but to a certain extent, Andakar supposed he could understand.
"Please remove your cap while inside the school building, Mr. Arber."
The boy smirked, more apologetically than impudently, to his credit. "Sorry," he murmured.
The next few names called elicited replies without incident. Then he called the name "Alphonse Elric."
"Here!" The reply was spoken in a clear tone and Andakar looked to locate its source. A young man a few seats away from the front sat up in his seat with his arm raised. He had an intelligent, open countenance and, curiously enough, the same golden eyes as the other boy, who happened to be sitting next to him. They were unmistakably brothers, or perhaps cousins.
"Edward Elric."
Sure enough, the boy with the braid raised his hand. "Here."
Beyond their coloring, the two boys seemed to have little in common, the foremost being that Alphonse looked like he wanted to be here. Edward did not. Not that he had any choice. This one was going to give him trouble, he could feel it.
Andakar continued down the list. Most of the students answered readily and with varying degrees of respect or enthusiasm.
"Paninya Robinson."
"I'm here!" A dark-complexioned girl wearing overalls shot her hand up with a bright smile. That, he supposed, was a good sign.
"Winry Rockbell."
There was no reply at first and Andakar looked up with a frown. Paninya hissed a hurried whisper at the girl sitting next to her, whose blonde head was bent over her notebook, in which she was hurriedly scribbling. Her head snapped up, her clear blue eyes widened, and her cheeks turned red. "Oh! Here! Sorry!"
He would not normally have allowed that sort of distraction in his class. If this was Ishval, he would have made her stand up and announce to the class what she had been doing. It tended to discourage that sort of behavior. But the girl seemed so sincerely contrite that Andakar found himself fighting the impulse to demand what had so arrested her attention. It was only roll-call, after all. He would certainly remember her.
After a few more names he called out "Nicolo Vorace."
The reply came as a groaning sound followed by a number of snickers. Andakar looked up with a frown and repeated with an edge to his voice. "Nicolo Vorace!"
"Here," came a sullen reply. The young man with the dreads lifted his hand limply. "And it's N.V."
Andakar considered him for a moment, mentally tagging him as Problem Student Number One. "Excuse me?"
Mr. Vorace rolled his eyes, which earned him a deeper scowl. "I go by N.V. You cool with that?"
If his impudence had not been tempered by a barely perceptible tone of deference, Andakar would have informed him in no uncertain terms just how not cool he was with that. It irked him just a little but he let it go. He was not here to win anyone's affection, but neither was he here to prompt too many complaints from Amestrian parents who couldn't teach their children manners. He needed to learn to compromise. He did not necessarily want to establish himself as a complete tyrant. Not yet at least.
He made a note next to Mr. Vorace's name. "Very well, Mr. N.V." This drew a few more brief snickers which Andakar chose to ignore. He moved on.
"Lan Fan Yao."
"Here!" A Xingese girl raised her hand. Andakar glanced at her, taking in a quietly earnest expression. She sat straight in her seat and her textbook was already open. Another eager one, thank Ishvala.
"Ling Yao."
"I'm always last!" a voice mourned cheerfully, causing most of the students to laugh. "Oh, yeah! Here!"
Sitting behind Alphonse Elric was a Xingese boy with a jovial demeanor to match his remark. Possibly related to Lan Fan, but it could just be coincidence. He was another one with his hair tied back. Andakar mentally categorized him as Harmless But Distracting. He would need monitoring.
That was the end of his class list. Andakar picked up the stack of syllabi and moved to the first desk in the first row. After a quick count, he handed that student a number of the stapled papers. "Pass those down, please."
He repeated the process until a sufficient number was handed out and he returned to the front. "Please read through these. They contain a class outline and a code of conduct that I expect to be adhered to. I have also included my telephone number and email address here at the school that I expect not to be abused." The idea of being so accessible was distasteful and provoked dread, but he was required to include the information. "Please take these home and have your parents sign the final page. I would like those turned in by Friday at the very latest."
As he spoke, the students flipped through the syllabus with varying degrees of interest. The wording he had used was as clear and concise as he could possibly make it but he asked anyway. "Does anyone have any questions?"
A few of the students shook their heads, the rest continuing to read through the handout or slide them into their binders or backpacks.
"I have a question." Edward Elric had his hand raised.
"Yes?" Andakar prompted, picking up a copy of the syllabus for reference.
The boy tapped himself on the spot between his eyebrows. "How'd you get that?"
The room grew quiet with only a couple of rapid whispers and the breath of an incredulous giggle. Andakar met the boy's gaze, somewhat incredulous himself. Edward held his eyes steady. His interest seemed clinical rather than out of concern or frivolous curiosity.
"Geez, Ed!" Ling Yao muttered behind Ed, giving the bottom of his seat a kick. "Nosy much?"
"Look, it's probably the first thing everybody wondered as soon as we got in here," Ed said, as much to Andakar as to answer Ling. "So I figured we might as well cut to the chase."
As much as he was affronted by the boy's question, however genuine his interest, there was a certain logic to that statement and Andakar was inclined to agree with it. There was bound to be an unseemly amount of speculation.
"It was the result of a building explosion nearly two years ago in Ishval," Andakar replied simply, which was all the explanation they were going to get.
A small, sharp gasp came from the third row. Winry Rockbell sat momentarily frozen in her seat, her face pale. Then she lowered her eyes to the scribbled page of her notebook and kept them there. The other students around her, Edward, Alphonse, Paninya, Ling, and Lan Fan, glanced at her in sympathy and concern. Andakar watched her for a moment with a strange sinking feeling in his chest, but since no one volunteered any explanation, he didn't pursue the matter. He also wasn't sure he wanted to know.
Then Edward turned back around in his seat, and for a moment so fleeting Andakar nearly missed it, the boy fixed him with a dark, accusing glare before bending down to pull his textbook out of his backpack and clapping it onto the top of his desk.
Mystified once again and not a little annoyed, Andakar seriously considered moving Mr. Elric to the position of Problem Student Number One.
As you can see, I've introduced a couple more canon characters and I've done some name/relationship/tweaking, among other things. Lucy/Lust and Rose are originally from Aerugo, which I am more or less patterning after Italy. Gleb/Gluttony is from Drachma which is generally patterned after Soviet Russia.
Here are some translations of various languages:
Non so che cosa fare=I don't know what to do
Shto'zh podyelayesh?=What can you do?
fyil=basically phyllo dough
Zhaarad=Ishvalan term of respect, equivalent to "Master."
In my eagerness to get this posted, I sincerely hope I don't end up having to go back and change stuff because I forgot something or I was suddenly struck with a better idea :P
