A/N: My first Fanfic, just so you know…I like this chapter much more than the prologue! Enjoy! (Also, I wrote this a little unprofessionally to keep it young and innocent…hopefully.)

Disclaimer: Man, do I really need this? Unless I'm secretly a cartoon cow with glasses, I don't think I'm the mastermind behind FMA…If I was…well, let's say it would be OTP time. Also, it is sorta a songfic, so I disclaim that too.

Chapter One

A Thousand Years

Five hundred years later, their graves had long since vanished, weathered and faded away beside each other, dematerialized into a country that had changed for the better. Somewhere in that nation, a young boy with short, spiky black hair and a lopsided grin sauntered into his very first kindergarten class. His mother had just left him in a big, colourful room, with lots of little tables and chairs. There were hooks in the back wall, and a big, black board in the front. A pretty woman came forward, and leaned down to talk to him. She had long wavy brown hair, and wide dark eyes, and she talked in a kind voice. He liked her instantly. She asked his name and then told him that she was "Ms. Catalina" but to please just call her "Ms. Rebecca." She showed him that the hooks in the walls were where he should put his bag, and that the little chairs and tables were where he should sit. So he thanked her, because that was called "politeness", and chose the yellow hook closest to the door. He wasn't the first person here. There were already more kids sitting at the tables and hanging their bags, and the boy smiled, because his mother told him that he was friendly, and if he was friendly to everyone, he should have a lot of friends. Mother also said friends were nice people that like you, and love you, but he didn't want love, because that's grown-up stuff. He just wanted to be liked. After he wrote his name over the hook like Ms. Rebecca said, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

Standing in the door was a gruff looking old man holding a small black knapsack that hung around his arm. The little boy blinked, a strange feeling of recognition tingling behind his eyes. The old man stared at him too, eyes wide with something the boy couldn't explain. After a moment, the old man broke eye contact and walked right in, grunting as he passed. The little boy gaped for a moment longer, because he thought kindergarten was for kids, and that old man was definitely not a kid. He also didn't like the feeling that man gave him. It felt the same as when he broke Mother's vase and she yelled at him, and after, he didn't know what he could do to make up for it. When he asked, she said he must be feeling "guilty" and he should be. Still, he was sure he had never met the old man, meaning he had no reason at all to feel like this. So he turned away as Ms. Rebecca talked to the man, pulling out his new pencils, erasers and colours. As he turned from his bag, the old man called in a rusty voice, "Come here."

The boy spun around, startled and his breath hitched. He felt like this man should be the teacher, that he should be scolding him for being silly. But what could he have done to make the man call to him?

The old man called out again, and the boy realized that he wasn't the one the he was calling to. Looking around, the boy spotted little hands on the edge of the door, followed by large purple-black eyes that peeked out under thin raven hair. He did a double take. He watched in a somewhat fixed trance as a little wisp of a girl stepped into view, wiping her eyes with thin fingers. She walked timidly into the room, and fixed her eyes on him, and he suddenly felt a large jolt in his belly, still staring stupidly as his mouth hung open. She gawked at him to, but her eyes were wet and shiny. He wanted the girl to stop crying, because for some reason, it made him sad. She blinked, and looked at her feet, breaking the brief moment that their eyes locked. He watched, mesmerized, but she went tip-toeing around him to grab the old man's hand, without saying a word. The young boy shook his head in confusion, walking towards the main part of the room with a somewhat reluctant pace. It felt…weird when he saw that girl. Like with the old man, but this felt stronger, with the strange feeling of having an empty stomach, even though he already ate. It shouldn't have mattered, and he should have been able to shrug it off, because Mother would call him "ridiculous" again. But that little girl suddenly seemed very, very important, and he wanted to talk to her.

With his young mind still brooding, he found a purple chair to sit at a yellow table, because yellow was his most favourite colour. Not a minute passed before he heard the old man at the back speak softly.

"You be good, child. Have fun, make friends, and behave." He spoke the last word quietly but full of command, and even the boy felt inclined to listen. He continued eavesdropping and heard the little girl start to sniffle and sob.

"B-but…I don't wanna, gran'father!" she whimpered, voice full of fear, "I-I wanna go home! I'm s-scared…" She hiccupped.

"Now, now, don't cry," the old man said gently, but with an edge of authority, "Tears are for the weak-minded, and smiles for the strong. It won't be very long, I'll be here in a few hours to get you. Please do not cry. You are much more beautiful smiling."

He hugged her tight, handed her the bag and wiped her face, all while she tried to smile for him. His eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled back, and then he strode out the door, and the girl began to sniffle again. He heard Ms. Rebecca explaining the class hooks and tables, and soon, the little girl was seated at the table on the other side of the room with a bunch of blond kids. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she tugged up her baggy turtle-neck collar and pulled at her bangs, trying her best to hide it. He could hear her sniffling from time to time, but she didn't seem so very upset anymore. Until that blond boy started talking. He watched with narrowed eyes as the other boy ran his mouth.

"Hey, you," the blond said in a snarky voice, "No one cries in kindergarten. What are you crying for, anyway? This is the easiest thing ever, I only have to sit here and behave."

The girl didn't answer, but she lowered her face into her arms and curled in on herself. Another blond boy spoke up, saying that "What did she do to you? Mom wouldn't like what you're doing." The first blond huffed at him and told him to "be quiet, stupid."

"I mean, only stupids cry for stupid things," he continued matter-of-factly, "I hear that next year will be harder work too, and the year after that, and the year after that. But I'm not gonna cry. 'Cuz only stupid kids cry."

The black-haired boy wasn't sure when he had stood and walked right up to him, but he didn't care. Right now, this other boy was being "rude" as Mother would have called him, and especially to a little girl who hadn't so much as breathed on him. Other kids must be different, he supposed. But that didn't mean he would sit and watch. He didn't like the way it made his chest feel, the way it squeezed the air slowly away and left nothing but pressure. It wouldn't be right to just stand by.

"Hey, meanie."

The blond boy turned around and opened his mouth to start insulting the newcomer, but stopped short upon seeing him. Granted, he'd always been rather short for his age, but compared to the black-haired boy, he looked somewhat like an ant. The blond boy's face turned to a scowl, and he pouted at the boy who was significantly taller.

"Go away, I wasn't talking to you."

"Yeah, but you won't talk to her like that. What did she ever do to you, shorty?"

The blond's eyes became slits, and he hissed venomous insults that would have earned a spanking from both their mothers. The other blond tried to protest as the short one stood up, but he was ignored. The little girl peeked up through her fingers, looking scared as the boys stared each other down. The tall boy looked at her and caught her eye, and he suddenly felt compelled to smile. He grinned crookedly at her, and she blushed lightly and hid in her arms again. The short blond boy huffed and blew his longish hair out of his eyes.

"What's your problem?" he smirked, "Is little cry-baby there your girlfriend? Are you in l-o-o-o-o-ve?"

Before he could reply angrily, the blond crumpled to the ground. A large bump started to rise on the back of his head. His adversary stared in shock, and leaned down to see what was wrong. He spotted a glass ball rolling away under the table just as an irritated girly voice called from above. He looked up to see the third blond at the table, a pretty blue-eyed girl who was still playing with more of her glass marbles.

"Leave him alone! You were being a bum to that girl, you deserve a booboo on your head."

He blinked, then smiled amusedly at her. She must have thrown a marble at his head. How cute.

The short one groaned, and sat back on his knees with tears pricking at his gold eyes. He rubbed his head gingerly as he muttered hateful words about a "marble maniac."

He glared angrily at the tall boy, who walked past him to the little girl and poked her shoulder. She raised her face out of her hands and looked at him under thick lashes, her cheeks still wet.

"Hi!" he beamed, "I'm Ling! Do you wanna sit with me? I won't be rude like shrimpy there."

The blond growled evilly as Ling stretched a hand out to her, and she stared at it rather uncertainly for a moment or two. She blinked, and nodded, sitting up to grab his hand. She had barely brushed his fingers before he went flying to the ground, tackled by the furious short child.

"Brother!" cried the other blond boy.

The little girl squeaked in worry and fright, hands flying over her wide eyes as the blond boy rammed his fist into Ling's nose.

"Eddie! Stop it!" the blonde girl shouted, throwing more marbles, "Ms. Rebecca!"

Before the pretty brunette teacher could pry the boys from each other, they both sported bruised faces and bloody noses. The little girl was crying again as she kneeled by Ling's side, hands hovering over his injured face. He told a few jokes to cheer her up, and she giggled between her sniffs, making his head feel light. Much to the boys' dismay, Ms. Rebecca called their mothers and sent them to the office, where they glared at each other when the secretary wasn't looking.

A week later, Ms. Rebecca had let everyone outside to play for the third time. They were only allowed on half the pavement and the small stretch of grass along the fence, but Ling didn't mind. He didn't need all that room when he was having such fun staying still. He and the little girl lay under the shade of a small maple tree, staring up at the sky. He would talk about the silliest things with her, and she would giggle at him and call him funny. He loved making her smile. It made him warm and tingly, and he had to stop talking when that happened because he had to remember to breathe normally again. She never talked very much unless it was in class or to laugh and comment at his stories and jokes. So Ling talked enough for both of them, and he would always leave school with a rather dry rattle in his voice. He got so absorbed in it, that when he got home one day, he realized that he didn't even know her name. When he told his mother, she stared in disbelief, especially when he told her he thought he already knew it. She laughed coldly at him, nose turned up to the idea. She called him "ridiculous" again, and that was the end of that.

The very next day, when Ms. Rebecca let them out to play again, he asked her name as they sat on the grass. She looked rather embarrassed for a moment, tugging at her bangs as a red blush coated her face. She picked at the blades of grass, tearing them in her hands as she quietly mumbled a response.

"M-my name's Lonnie," she stammered, "That's what everyone calls me. But, um…"

She turned to him very secret-like and whispered sternly.

"You have to promise me. Promise that you won't laugh, 'kay?"

Ling stared for a second before leaning in close to whisper back.

"I cross my heart and hope to die, and poke a needle in my eye. Spiders, snakes, and a lizard's head, if I ever laugh, I'll die 'till I'm dead. I promise." His tone was serious as he leaned back, suddenly holding out his pinky finger.

"In fact, let's pinky swear."

She nodded, and they twisted their pinky fingers around each other.

"Well," she muttered, wringing her hands nervously, "Grandfather told me that my mommy actually named me something else. But other people used to laugh at me for it."

Ling frowned. The idea of someone making fun of her was very unsettling. He wondered how anyone could tease such an adorable girl.

She took a deep breath.

"My real name is Lan Fan."

Ling blinked. Lan Fan. Her name was Lan Fan. It was…perfect. That name, it was so very familiar to him. He thought back, but could not recall another with the same name. Yet, he felt as though he'd spoken the name countless times before. He smiled.

She still stared worriedly at him, as if her name would repulse him. When he continued to smile, she became puzzled.

"A-aren't you…you don't think it's funny?"

"No, why would I?" he positively beamed, "Is it supposed to be funny?"

"Um, well…" she mumbled, "I think it means cold rice, and…I guess people thought that was kinda funny…they weren't very nice about it."

Ling put a hand to his chin and began stroking an imaginary beard. He hummed rather loudly, feigning deep concentration. She giggled behind her hands, and poked his shoulder playfully.

"What? Tell me!" she laughed.

"Well…it's just…cold rice…I want to know why you would be embarrassed about that. I love cold rice!"

A very small smile took to her features at that, and she opened her mouth to reply just as Ms. Rebecca called them to come back inside. The end of the day had come much to fast in Ling's opinion.

As they stood up, Ling smiled again, and held a hand out to her.

"Hey, would you mind?" he asked as they walked to the door, hand in hand.

"Mind what?"

"If I called you Lan Fan?"

She smiled at him and let him go through the doors first.

"No. You can call me anything."

Feeling very happy at her words, he turned his head to face her and hugged her for a second. Then he let go and ran ahead, shouting over his shoulder.

"Great!"

That night, Ling asked his mother what Lan Fan meant in Xingese. She told him quickly before dismissing him to his room so he could clean it. The next day at school, Lan Fan was surprised when Ling excitedly told her that her name also meant "orchid fragrance." Whatever that meant. But they didn't really care.

It was winter, and Ms. Rebecca's classroom was full of green and red. The walls were covered with paper snowflakes and scribbled pictures of snowmen and presents. The whole kindergarten class was buzzing with excitement. Today was the last day of school before Christmas Vacation, and Ms. Rebecca was taking them outside to play in the snow.

Ling and Lan Fan were first out the doors, and the moment they reached the huge pile of snow the snowplow had made, Ling plopped face first into it. It was very fluffy, and not like the sticky, wet snow that fell earlier in November. It was powdery, and it crumbled to pieces in his mittens. He laughed in delight, throwing it high into the air. Lan Fan stood watching in amusement, giggling at her silly friend. Ling suddenly reached out and grabbed her gloved hand. She squealed as she slid forward on the icy ground and fell straight onto the snow mound.

"Ling!" her shout was meant to be irritated, but she couldn't help laughing at the silly grin on his face. Her coat and snow pants were now caked with white. She grabbed a fistful of snow and lobbed it at his head. He shouted in shock as the cold ball slapped his forehead and stuck in his hair, knocking his hat off his head. The girl could certainly aim.

Ling was about to throw one back when the two blond brothers, Eddie and Allan, jumped in with their own barrage of snowballs. Ling and Lan Fan quickly called a truce, and soon, the pair drove the two blond boys away.

Exhausted and covered in snow, Ling collapsed on the pile, facing the grey clouds that still rained snow. Lan Fan fell down too, the tops of their heads mere centimetres from each other. For a short time, the only sound they heard was their heavy breathing and the chirping of winter birds.

"Did you…did you see the look on Eddie's face?" Ling panted, smiling at the memory, "He looked so funny when you tackled him!"

Lan Fan giggled, rubbing her sore shoulder where she landed after that incident.

"What about you…when you filled Allan's hat with snow and he put it right back on!" she sniggered, rolling over to lie on her stomach.

As if on cue, they both burst out laughing, the sound filling the cold air. They snorted and guffawed until it hurt, and tears froze to their cheeks. Ling smiled his biggest smile, one that would never have existed without the presence of this girl. It really was a wonder why she affected him like that. But he loved it.

"You know what, Lan?" he asked, rolling himself onto his belly so he could face her.

She blushed and dropped her gaze. The boy was always doing that to her. She didn't know if it was on purpose or not, but he was very charming in her opinion.

"What?" she asked, timidly curious.

"We should get married," he said very seriously.

Lan Fan smiled warmly at him, before a whisper of agreement found its way past her lips.

"And I'll love you for a hundred years," he smiled back at her, his young mind working in overdrive.

Lan Fan had never heard anything so sweet. Of course, she was only four and a half. But she couldn't think of anything she'd rather hear from him. Except his laugh, and his jokes, and…well, she supposed just his voice was good enough.

There was only one thing she could say to that.

"Me too."

The end of the day came all to fast, and soon, Ling was waving goodbye as Lan Fan ran to hug her grandfather. She turned and waved back, grinning from ear to ear. Suddenly, as if struck by a sudden thought, she beckoned for her grandfather to lean down. She put a hand to his ear and whispered a question, to which he replied looking rather confused. Lan Fan shook her head and made a motion with her hands. It looked like she was saying bigger. Again, the old man gave an answer, and this time she nodded. She handed her little black bag to him and then ran back down the hall. Stopping right in front of Ling, she beamed at him before wrapping him in a hug. When she let go, she giggled at the stunned look on his face.

"Listen, Ling," she said, "if you're gonna love me for a hundred years, then I am gonna love you for a thousand years. Okay?"

Ling stared blankly for a moment before his signature grin lit up his face once again.

"Then I'll love you for a thousand more!"

They both smiled.

With one last blush, she turned and ran back to her grandfather, grabbing his hand as they swept out the front doors.

Ling was left standing outside his class, suddenly wondering if maybe a thousand years wasn't long enough.

But how could he know? He was only five years old.

A/N: Well, that was fun. And adorable to write. I hope wasn't making the kids sound too old. But little kids are naive, and when I was younger, there was a boy who said we were married, so I thought it would be okay to put in the "proposal." Even though it was just their little, innocent minds being cute.

So, did anyone notice Ed and Al? And a small mention of Winry? Yes, I know, corny and all to have them reincarnated, but I couldn't help it! Just too adorbs!

Next chapter's coming soon, I promise! Gr. 1, here I come!

Reviews would be nice…constructive criticism accepted!

Purply