"Who is that?" Mustang asked.

Riza calmly answered. "Our alchemist thief, sir. His name is Zidane Tribal. I don't think he knows what he was doing."

Mustang looked at the kid, who jumped into a chair with a sheet of paper, drawing. "What makes you say that?"

"Beyond the fact he barely can speak the native language, when I tried telling him what he was doing was illegal, he said something about going home. I think someone was keeping him hostage, discovered his abilities, and wants to use him. Especially as he said being small meant he could fit through more openings than someone larger."

"Tribal," Mustang said clearly, getting the kid's attention. "How old are you?"

"Ten-six," Zidane said with a grin. "Beer please."

"You're too young, Zidane," Riza said. Zidane frowned. "How about some juice, instead?"

Zidane nodded. He took the sheet of paper and drew an apple. "Juice of this fruit, please, Miss Riza. I like."

"It's an apple," Mustang said, unimpressed.

"Ap-ple. Apple juice, please."

"How can you be sixteen and not know the language?"

Zidane shrugged. "Not from here. From far away."

"How did you get here?"

He shook his head. "Don't know. Kuja send."

Riza saw the look on Mustang's face. He was figuring out who, or what, "Kuja" was.

"How did you learn this language?"

"Been here for time of three moons. Pick it up when wandering. Kuja help."

So Kuja was a "who" not a what.

"Tribal, answer me," Mustang's voice was firm. "Who is Kuja?"

Zidane shook his head.

"Where is this Kuja figure?"

He shook his head again. "Apple Juice, please. And Z-Zh-ing ball. I like Zhing ball. Had some today. Kid catch-ed, cot, for what I did."

"How do you know?"

He grinned and pointed at himself. "Thief. Always a thief. They used that word today." He turned to face Riza. "Apple juice please, Miss Riza."

Riza nodded and moved to leave.

"Where are you going?" Mustang asked.

"Sir, Zidane seems unwilling to speak with us on several topics, such as where he's from, how he got here, and anything involving Kuja. If we give him food and drink, he might open up to us. I am getting him some juice, and the Xingese steamed meat balls he seems to enjoy."

Mustang thought a moment. "Very well Hawkeye, you may proceed."

Riza gave a polite thank you and left. She hoped that Mustang wouldn't be hard on Zidane. He was just a kid. One who wouldn't be a kid for much longer, but he was still a kid. He wasn't unintelligent either. He was picking up on the language quickly.

She quickly found what she was looking for in the kitchens when she felt that he might need some clothes. She went to an area with spare uniforms and picked some out. They were most definitely oversized, but that would be fine.

"Miss Riza! You're here!" Zidane said with a smile.

She nodded. "I am. I brought you some clean clothes along with food."

"You're nice, Miss Riza. Clothes please?" He offered out his hands. She handed the clothes she found to him. He chirped a thanks.

"So he's polite to you," Mustang muttered.

"I hope he didn't trouble you, sir."

"He just kept calling you pretty. He didn't answer any questions I tried t – Oi! Don't take your clothes off in front of us."

Zidane nodded his head. "Food first, then." He took off the coat and set it on his lap. "You have backless chair? This one is not com-for-ta-ble."

That was strange. It was one of the most comfortable chairs in the room, bar the one Mustang was sitting in.

"There's a basic stool over there," Mustang said.

"Thank you, sir," He said, jumping to his feet and running over. "That's much better." He moved the jacket back over his lap and started eating.

She discovered why he was uncomfortable soon after. A long, thin tail attached to him started twitching, moving to around shoulder level.

"What are you looking at?" He asked through a mouth full of food.

"T-tail," Mustang said surprised.

He laughed after swallowing. "I forget about it at times. I forget this place lacks Burmecians and Qus as well. I'm normal compared to them. I just have a tail. And I'm small for the normal."

"When you're finished, Tribal," Mustang said. "I will find a room for you to stay in, for observation as well as safe-keeping."

"Observation. You don't trust me." The tail dropped, starting to curl around a leg of the stool.

Mustang nodded. "We don't. You were trying to transmute a human being. That's illegal. Not to mention you've stolen large amounts of food, a few yards of cloth, a quilt, and various ingredients for a human."

"Not making a human," Zidane said. "Just trying to get home. Kuja said it would take me home."

Kuja was the kid's captor, it seemed. He was lying to Zidane for some reason, perhaps to blame the kid, or… She remembered what she was told happened to the Elrics tried to transmute a human. Kuja wanted to see the results and not get hurt himself.

"I'm finished," Zidane said in the uncomfortable quiet. He picked up his coat and the clothes Riza picked out. "Where is my you-don't-trust-me Room?"

Riza looked at Mustang. Mustang nodded.

"Follow me, Tribal." Mustang looked at some papers, perhaps a map of the building, and stood up. Zidane waited for him to pass, and then followed. She hoped the kid would be fine. "And Hawkeye, release Elric. Tell him we found the thief."

Ed was still upset about sitting in a holding cell as if he were some sort of common criminal. He was just shy of thirteen. Al sat in a small chair just outside the bars, an area for visitors and family to visit minor offenders holding his prosthetic arm. Nothing was worse than having to wait for the Lieutenant Colonel to prove his innocence.

"Dammit, he's going to hold that over me forever," he said aloud. "Can't believe I'm going to have to owe him when this is over. Why can't you give me my arm?"

"First Lieutenant Hawkeye recommended that it should be away from you to prove you didn't do it. I don't want to betray her trust, brother."

"Give it to me, Al! Is there any better way of proving them wrong by finding this copycat thief myself!"

Al nodded. "Letting her take care of it herself while you're in here."

The door from the visitor area to a central hub opened with Hawkeye walking in.

Ed sat up straight at gave a cheeky grin. "I suppose you'll need my help after all then."

She shook her head. "We've caught the thief, seeing as you're still here, and still have no right arm, I can easily believe that you aren't him." She took a key out of her pocket and unlocked the cell.

He sprang to his feet, sending his left hand out to his brother. "Arm, please," He said.

Al gave his brother the requested item. "Are we within our rights to ask about the thief?" Al asked. "I just want to know about who managed to pass off as my brother."

"The similarities stopped at long blond hair, a hooded red coat, and a vaguely similar voice. He's older too, one of the pieces of in..."

Ed failed at suppressing the yell as he found the connection for his arm. It always hurt.

"I don't have to inform you, Elric." She turned to face him.

He bowed his head. Hawkeye was scary when she wanted to be. "Sorry Lieutenant, forgive me."

She nodded. "When we asked his age, he gave sixteen, so he's older than you."

"By three years," Ed said. He'd beat this lookalike in height soon. He had room to grow. "Anything else?"

"He has a right arm and left leg that are not automail. I've seen his eyes up close. They're very bright, and remind me more of a cat's eye than a human's." How could anyone confuse the two of them? Sure, he tried to hide his automail arm, but the eyes? How could they confuse the two?

"Well, the thief must have made sure to never look anyone in the eye," Al said. "Watching from far away."

"Should I continue?" Hawkeye said plainly.

"No, I think that's enough," Al said. "Please tell us where our room will be, Lieutenant."

"Of course," Hawkeye said politely. "Although I would prefer to take you." She turned to draw a basic map from the observation cells to a spare room.

"I don't look like that," He heard someone say. At first, he almost thought he said it himself.

"Quiet, Tribal," Mustang's voice said. He turned around, noticing the imitation him.

"Miss Riza!" The imitation said. "Don't want observation cell. You trust me? He can be not trusted." The imitation pointed rudely at him. The imitation looked nothing like him.

"I'm sorry," Hawkeye said, not looking up from the map she was working on. "I will see about better accommodations tomorrow. Most of us need rest. It is late."

He laughed. "Not for me. I compare myself with… Erlic, is it?"

It was on. He clapped his hands together and changed the top plate of automail to a blade.

"A fight? I'll fight." He reached for a large holster only for Mustang to take it away. "Why no fight, sir?"

"You're under observation, Tribal."

Tribal nodded, changing his posture. "I don't like this, Mustang, but at least things will change tomorrow, right ma'am."

Hawkeye had a brief moment of surprise. "I said I would do what I can for you. There's no guarantee." She turned to Al. "Here are the directions for the room. The key should be inside, and if it isn't, don't lock yourselves out, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Al said with a slight nod. "Come on brother, you need sleep too. This has been a hectic day."

Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit, Kuja! You lied to me. I have no idea why I fucking keep on trusting you not to try and take over or destroy a world again, using my body!

"Sorry Zidane," Kuja said. "I'm doing this so you'll get that trust you want. I could have taken over you without any of your learning that proto-magic. If I really wanted your body, you wouldn't have known anything after the Iifa tree was collapsing on us."

Oh, you don't trust me, Kuja? I won't escape when I'm caught.

"You try to never get caught, blaming it on people who were innocent at the time." He chuckled a bit. "Besides, if our plan doesn't work to get you back…"

Keep your hands off Dagger! Especially if you're in my body!

Kuja shook his head. "Brother, why would I want to have anything to do with Queen Garnet these days? I told you, I wanted to be a hero in your eyes, make you, he-with-the-saving-people-thing, proud. That wouldn't be a kind thing to do. Now, do you promise not to do anything, like chasing after that kid for a fight?"

Don't give me ideas, Kuja.

"Do you?"

Yes, Kuja. I promise to be a good boy.

"Don't be bitter, but here you go."

Zidane could feel himself return to control of his body. Thanks Kuja, though you didn't have to speak to me vocally I could have felt you just fine. If anyone's listening, they probably think I'm crazy, talking to myself.

I missed having lips, so I spoke in my native tongue. Now rest, brother. They'll wake you up early tomorrow.

"Hardly sleepy," he said, trying to suppress a yawn that he half-suspected was caused by Kuja. "Not letting you have my body again."

I gave you my word. I am nothing if not honest with you. Now.

Zidane nodded. "Good enough, I guess."

"You're also tired, aren't you?" A voice said in the other language. It had an echo to it. He saw it, the large suit of metal with the strange high-pitched voice.

"Who are you?" He said carefully, trying his best at pronunciation, and to avoid yawning.

"I'm Alphonse Elric," it said. "What's yours? I mean, Mustang was calling you Tribal but…"

Go to sleep.

Zidane ignored Kuja. "They call me Zidane Tribal. Nice meeting you Elric."

It waved its hands dismissively. "Call me Al, please."

"Al, then. You also not tired?"

It nodded. "I don't sleep much, Mr. Tribal."

Zidane's tail twitched uncomfortably. "If I call you Al, you call me Zidane, understanding? Still a kid here, it seems."

"Where are you from, Zidane?"

"Far away. I don't know if I can get back. Saved my friends. Tried to save brother. Brother said no and saved me in the end."

Al hung its head. "I'm sorry, I know that feeling. Ed's saved me once or twice."

"Brother's still here," Zidane said, knocking his head.

Don't betray me. Kuja hissed. Zidane silenced him with a remark about believability.

Al sighed. "I wish I had that kind of view on life."

"Human transmutation?" It was the words the others used, it was something they thought he was doing, and it was brought up in conjunction with the brothers.

Al sat a moment, frozen in thought.

"I joke," he said weakly. "You don't need to speak about it. Though, I am tired, Al."

Al nodded. Zidane could have sworn that it was smiling, despite no change in physical appearance. "Thank you Zidane," It said. "For talking a bit."

"You are welcome, Al. Good sleep."

"Good sleep to you too." Al left. It wasn't until a while later, as he lay on the cot, thankful for something softer than the cold stone of the streets to lay on, he realized how eerily comfortable he was talking to Al. It was as if he had done the same thing before, long ago.

Happy New Year! Here's the next chapter. Hope I can keep them this long, since this is a good length according to me.