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Well, I am starting this new chapter whilst in tech lab class, blah, so this should be quite fun. Guess who gets to go to medical school next year after working her ass off to get straight A's all year long? Me~! Be happy for Eri-chan, because I am going to enjoy this summer -.-

This will be kind of like the last chapter, except it will be the Colonel's thought progression instead. Now we get to see how both characters feel at the same point in time. So imagine that both thoughts were taking place during the same time period (of like 5-10 minutes) alright?

Any who, I will stop blabbing and get on with chapter 9.


Roy's P.O.V

Day 2: Pass You By

If it is an infinite amount of hours that binds our soul to life, then why is it that it only takes a few seconds to take that all away?

One of the things I never understood while I was growing up was why it always took so long to build up to something, to this stature, yet it only took the smallest of quantities to rip it from our hands, and to let us fall from grace; leaving us there to seethe.

The best things in life are the ones that you work hard to gain right? Then what is the point in enjoying the bitter sweet victory of an easy accomplishment? Does that mean that we do not truly deserve it? Does it mean that it values no interest? How are we to sophisticate ourselves if we cannot even answer the simple questions that govern our very being? How can we move forward if we still hide behind these glittering generalities that have been spewed from a text book for thousands of years?

How can we live with "because that's just the way it is?"

Mankind is damned from the moment they step on this Earth. They are born in sin, lost in it throughout their life, and find themselves entranced in the hope of an afterlife. What is the point of living for another breath if we are no closer to the answer of why?

We are knowledge thirsty, finding every and any way to not only make life as simplistic as possible, but to also to bathe it in as much light as possible; this light being the answers that dig in the corners of our minds; that whisper into our ears; that scream with disparity.

Ignore it. That is what they say; "Don't sweat the little things" right? Well, if you can't even be sure of your own existence, how are you to ignore that. If you can ponder a topic listlessly for years, for generations, past present, future, and still not have an answer, you have wasted your time. There is no progression, there is no enlightenment; there is only a standstill. We can watch things move around us, feel the changes in our technological background, but our souls cannot press on. Our minds can only go so far. The answers that we search for are at the bottom of the Earth, farther down than we can ever reach.

Is this what we call "hell?"

When we reach the darkest moments in our life, where we cry out in despair and question ourselves and our existence, is it not that during this time we are most sane?

We want to figure out why we are here; where we are going; how to see the light that is near. When we are mellow and carefree; when we are languid, we are not in full focus.

We could not be further from the truth in this state.

When we are serious, lackadaisical, deprived of this joy, we are in the blood thirsty mindset that is truth. It is what we seek.

It is what we crave.

If we are not able to recognize this now, then how are we ever going to be sure, to be confident in the life that we live?

How are we ever supposed to be truly happy?

I am devoid of this for the fact that I am unable to answer the questions that I seek most. Since I was 6 years old, I always wanted to know "What is the point of my life?"

Some said that I was a melancholy child; others thought that it was just a sad upbringing. They thought maybe I was just emotionally disturbed. I was frustrated, yes; I was quite anxious and depressed at times because I thought I was never going to figure out the true meaning of my life.

But in my eyes, the general public was the one that was disturbed. Not me.

I learned soon to cover this up so that I could socially interact with others and maybe find someone who needed to know why as much as I did. Little success did I have at this.

I portrayed myself as someone who was carefree with what you may call "childish" tendencies, but I would never let myself forget my goal.

As I made my way through life, I found myself being pulled towards the flame that made my soul feel alive. Joining the military was one of the stupidest things I could have done, especially so young, but it opened my eyes as a person.

To sit there amongst the dead, in the ruins of the Ishbalan towns, I felt new meaning come to me.

People kill people.

I began to start asking myself questions again. Why is it that we need to kill others in order to gain power over them? Why do we need this power?

Why do the children have to die for our sins? If they are our future, then is all lost?

The red eyes looked at me, as I lit the town ablaze with the snap of my fingers. They longed for a reason why. Why was I killing their parents? Why was I destroying their homes? Why is everyone dying today?

I could only reflect the sadness, and look away as I followed orders like the dog I was.

They cried, they retaliated, they ran, and they died.

It was in honor that they died, for it was on their feet; they took their last breath as a free Ishbalan.

But if I were to die that day, I would have died as a condemned soul of the military. Even when surrounded by flames, blood, loss, destruction, they still had more than I could ever wish for.

I made it home, I promised myself that I would climb these ranks and change it all.

Faithful partners passed, rain came on days that were suited best for sunsets, but life went on.

That's when I heard of Edward Elric: The boy who had played God.

I was sent to see that boy to give him the chance to enlist. He was told to have great alchemy talents, and I was aware of this myself. I wasn't sure what I was going to see when I walked into that building to see the 12 year old boy, but I was not prepared for what I was met with.

Empty gold eyes were behind loose strands of blonde hair. He was staring into space; an empty shell of a man. My heart immediately went out to him. Who would want to push such a broken boy into the military? Despite what I felt, I had an obligation. I hated it.

I talked to the young boy, finding little to no response from him as I spoke. He would nod, and say nothing. He never made direct contact, nor would he look into my own eyes. It was rather upsetting. He wasn't all there, and he seemed to have lost all of his will to live.

I left the house hold, a feeling in my heart that he would be in the paper the next day, dead.

Almost a year later, he was here, at Central, proving to the Fuhrer that he was as capable as any of my men.

From that day on, he was the Fullmetal Alchemist.

To me, he would always be Edward.

I was amazed at how fast he would progress, and how much he had changed since the first day I met him. I head his tale, about his brother, his mother, and his father. I couldn't help but admire him more each day for having the will to go on; for having the will to save his little brother.

I would always have to hide my feelings about the major, for they were ones that we never to be discussed; never to be revealed to the real world because it was politically incorrect.

7 years later, he is as strong, if not, stronger than he was before, but now there's a barrier.

After years of failure and success, of hell and heaven, of truth and treason, it was all he could do not to give up on his journey.

The feelings he had pent up inside were ones that I could not see; he hid them within the battered walls of his heart. He thought they would reside there for the rest of his life, but even I know that powerful emotions bubble to the surface after a while too. It's hard to hide something that conveys your life isn't it?

I soon began to realize that Edward Elric is the reason why I live.

If not for his own perseverance, I would still be lost in my own questions. He could come in every day with something new to bring to the table, and never once did he ask for more or complain. He was a child, yes, but he grew into a true man; his every day struggle to do the right thing when no one would was one that could only be respected. His emotions were seen in his job. Throughout his countless missions, you could see the regret in his eyes, or the questions. You could see the fear or happiness. Never did he speak a word.

I could not really argue against this, for as his Colonel, it was not my place to care. Yet desperately I wanted to. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, to show him that other people in this service had true emotions, that we weren't all mindless puppets.

But once again, this was not politically correct.

Bullshit.

The boy of red and gold would carry himself with such grace, such power, that I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He was so strong; mentally, physically, emotionally.

He would have his fun, be as short tempered as he would like, but at the end of the day, he was serious about what he did. He wasn't another loser out there for the money or the fame. He was out there with one goal in mind:

To fix his mistakes and save his little brother.

Each day was a tick on the clock, and as more time had passed the more determined he would be. Never giving up no matter the odds; studying for copious hours to find the smallest of leads; traveling hundreds of miles to find out just one ounce of information.

Edward Elric is the true reason I live.

His will to survive and thrive was one in which I could not help but envy. I had it once when I was in the war at his age, but he is in his own war isn't he?

The way he smells. The sweet smell of honey and caramel, it was only him. The way his perfect blonde bangs fanned over his golden eyes, the beautiful gold streaked braid that hung just at his shoulders.

He was so perfect to me. Why couldn't he accept that himself?

He gave me a reason as to why I am here.

I am here to show him love, to show him peace, to show him life.

Edward has always spent so much of his time giving and giving. He punished himself for his own humanities, not allowing any such imperfection in fear of failure. Poor kid never had the chance to really live.

He dug himself a dark corner in the middle of his own thoughts, where there was a standstill in life and emotion, where he could figure everything out on his own in hopes of finally having some sort of revelation.

Having been there myself, I know it is scary. You are surrounded by your own memories, where all you are seeing are the past mistakes that you have tried to forget. The ones you dwell on and wish for a re-do. It breaks you apart inside, because there is never a way to go back in time no matter how much you want it.

You begin to think about the meaning of life, how the Earth really started, why society is the way it is, how it all relates to your life at this very moment in time. Then, once at this point, you begin to wonder how it is that we can never be perfect, why we must relive the same nightmare at night when the dreams that we crave and wait for melt in reality.

Once you finally realize that none of it connects, you understand that it was never meant to be part of a whole; that all the pieces that life gives you goes to a completely different puzzle. If we are ever to being to understand life within itself, don't we need to know what we are working with?

You have to go past the reason as to why, and past all the questions that were taught to us. You need to divulge into the colors and patterns, the things we cannot describe with our words; the things that we could not touch in front of us.

This is the true form of life. They say it is all around us, that we are life. But that's not true.

Life, life is a shape, it is bwello, and it is something that doesn't really exist. You can label everything that you want to in life, but that doesn't make it that way. Hell, life probably only exist in our minds. Life, if anything, is just a word that we use too often to describe things that have no real relation to it.

If I could sit here and think about this forever, I could only imagine the thoughts of the broken-winged alchemist. We are all on a similar path that binds us into what we call destiny.

We, as mankind, are damned as soon as we step on the Earth; born into sin.

If I can't save myself from my own sin, at least let me save him, because everyone deserves their second chance at "life", and he hasn't even had the chance to open his eyes yet.


This is the end of chapter 9, and I am very tired. Yes, Eri-chan is tired. I have been working on it for at least two hours, and started it a day or so ago in a different class. So that is like, 3 hours -.-

Hope it was worth the wait, because I see that I have been a little bad with the updating. SO happy because I will be graduating on the 15th this year, and on to medical school I go *weeeeeeeeeeeeeee~!*

Any ways, I need to close my mouth about my personal life, for Edward and Roy are the real focus of this story.

Let me know what you all think and I will be back with a new chapter in a few days at the very least. For all of you that live In Dorchester, if I do not post before Sunday, Happy Dot Day~!

Review if you can, for it makes me happy, more creative, and less mischievous.

Happy Reading,

~Eri-chan