A Train In The Countryside

Evening

Edward Elric woke from a nightmare to a very loud screech, and then the tree smashed through his window.

He jumped away with loud profanities. The car tilted and flung him to the floor. He could hear cursing and crying children from neighboring cars.

He barely held himself from punching through the window. Idiot. He kicked the glass out instead, sending a shard across his face. He swore at the pain and leapt out, tumbling to the ground.

He lifted his head, and the train wobbled and tilted. Red-gold sunset light shone on the twisted and collapsing train.

"I want mommy!"

He turned to see a young boy and the confusing girl from earlier. She gave him a tired smirk and knelt in front of the boy.

"I'll go try to find her, OK? You stay with this guy."

"Hey, I never—" Ed objected. The girl waved him aside.

"Watch the kid." With that, she climbed into a mostly-upright car.

"I hate that girl," he muttered. With a sigh, he set to attempting to comfort the boy.

The sun was down as the survivors grouped up to count the dead. The confusing girl held the boy, who'd fallen asleep crying over his mother's corpse. Ed felt bitter and empty. It was just... so wrong.

These things were supposed to stop happening. This was his punishment for not being happy in Risembool. Life. It'd always be hell, and it'd always be other people paying for it. That other little boy without a mother.

Quietly, he wandered off to take out all his hatred on trees. To tear them apart, to bloody his knuckles and scrape the skin off his palms, to curse everything— his life, his damn life he'd screwed up so royally! To slam his shoulder into a tree and skid down, hearing himself faintly sob...

Why was this his breaking point? He was supposed to be stronger. He was supposed to be able to handle anything. After all he'd been through, a train crash? Just a train crash?

A year ago, this would have just been another day. A bad one, yes, but just another day. And now... Weak. He was Edward Elric, and he was supposed to be strong enough for anything. Anything.

So what if he hurt? So what if he was tired? Suck it up and help people. Fix it. Move on.

He hurt. He was tired. He sucked it up and walked away, wiping the blood from his hands on his brown jacket.

A silhouetted figure awkwardly dug. He could hear muffled curses, and as he got closer he realized it was the confusing girl. Her upper right arm was pressed against her side, which wasn't helping her dig. Behind her were the bodies— she was digging graves.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"You're digging wrong."

She sighed and put the shovel down. Her right arm extended as far as it could go— about an inch, and he could see she was in pain just moving it that far.

"I'm a cripple. I got shot."

So he picked up the shovel and started digging. His raw hands left blood on the handle. He didn't care, and she saw but said nothing. At least this was something to do. Even if it didn't help anyone, it was easy and mindless.

The confusing girl sat down and rubbed her shoulder. It seemed almost mocking for it to be her right arm. He stared at his own. It wasn't quite as muscled as his left, but it was getting there.

"Have you considered automail?"

"Didn't want to be out of commission that long."

"I know a girl who only took six months."

The confusing girl smirked at him. "Well then, if I do it, it'll take me five."

"Think this is big enough?"

"Yeah."

She dragged a mangled body into the grave and started pushing dirt over it. There was a businesslike manner to her, like it was a flowerbed. Ed started on another grave.

"Kestrel," she said, patting down the dirt into an even mound, "Kestrel Archer."

"Edward Elric."

"Nice to meet you. Wish it were under better circumstances." Huh. Not a "Oh, the Fullmetal Alchemist?" from her.

"Yeah."

"It's getting pretty late..."

"Not tired."

"Me neither."

A thought occurred to Ed. "Where did this shovel come from?"

"Coal shovel."

"Shit for digging."

"Yep."

Of course, if he'd still had alchemy...

"You any good at alchemy?"

"If I was, would I be using a shovel?"

"I could draw the circles..."

"I have... sweaty hands."

It was a lie. An obvious lie. There was mild panic in her eyes. Why would she be...

"...You did human transmutation!?"

"What?"

"You— what?"

"You what!"

"You first!"

"Me what!?"

"Tell me what!"

"What what!?"

"You know what!"

"What are we talking about!?" She grabbed his shirt. He slapped her. She punched him. Pulling, kneeing, and wrestling followed until they fell into the grave.

There were a few seconds of silence as they realized where they were and that he was on top of her.

"Ow," she said.

"We're in a grave! That's just wrong!"

"And painful... Get off me, would ya?"

He awkwardly stood up and climbed out of the shallow grave. She winced and climbed out after him.

"I'm sorry..."

"My entire back hurts!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Well, we'd better finish this—" She yawned. "—job."

"If you want to sleep, you can..."

"I don't want to."

"Fine."

When the sun rose, it shone pink on rows of graves and the sleeping figures of Ed and Kestrel as they leaned against each other.