Author's Note:

Takes place approximately two years after the Promised Day. Could fit in the Toll verse. This references Kindness, and the first chapter of Team Players.

The Orphanage Project

"That was great!" said Jean, with a big smile on his face, walking straight into the Ishvalan Restoration Field Office meeting tent from the field where dozens of kids ranging in age from nine to twelve were playing. He wiped the sweat from his face, and took his uniform jacket down from a peg and put it on. "I can't believe you saved all those kids!"

Four representatives from The Orphanage Project charity sat on one side of an Amestrian-style meeting table, three Amestrians and one Ishvalan. Major Miles and First Lieutenant Breda sat on the other side. Jean pulled up a chair on the other side of Breda, and poured some sand into a small shallow dish. Then Miles opened the meeting with introductions.

There was a long shallow rectangular dish that ran down the center of the table, filled with clean sand. One by one, the participants touched the sand in the dish, then their forehead, and gave their name, organization, and position. When it came to Jean's turn, he touched the sand in his own dish instead of the dish in the middle of the table.

"I don't like it," Breda had said, the first time the idea of the separate dish had come up. "If Hav needs a separate dish, then we all touch that one on our side."

"No, Manny," Jean had answered. "That just makes you all look as guilty as me. It's respectful to them and just faces the facts about me and my guys. Better to have it out in the open than to have most of the room thinking we're trying to cover it up."

In any mixed group, the Ishvalans always understood why Jean kept his own dish separate, but sometimes the Amestrians didn't. So after he had introduced himself, he added, "A lot of soldiers here can't share the sand because of what we did in 1908. I'm one of them."

"Second Lieutenant Havoc and his men will be directly involved in this project," Major Miles added. "Shall we get to work?"

The charity was looking for help in establishing an orphanage in Gunja for the children who had survived. While the school in Gunja had already turned out a few alchemists, most of the work still required a great deal of manual labor so far.

After about two hours, food was brought in and they took a break at the table.

"So how did you save so many?" Jean asked, smiling.

"We had people watching the soldiers from a distance," said one of the Amestrians. "Then when you were through, we came in and looked for survivors. The soldiers almost never came back."

"None of the kids out there looked older than about twelve," said Jean. "Do you need anything for the older kids, or the women, or the old people?"

"We didn't go into the settled areas at all," said another Amestrian. "It was too dangerous. We watched the desert areas."

"In Gunja?" Jean said. His smile faded. The desert. The desert shelters.

"Yes," said the third Amestrian. "That was one area."

"You... were... out... there?" Jean could hardly get the words out. His breathing became ragged. He took a deep breath and brought it under control. He started blinking to keep his eyes clear.

"Yes," said the second Amestrian.

"Second Lieutenant?" said Miles. He and Manny were both looking at him now.

"Hav," said Heymans, "you didn't..."

Jean turned to Manny, unable to blink back all the tears, and said angrily, "Don't. You. Dare!"

Then he turned back to look across the table. "Then you could have saved mine, too." Somehow, his voice remained calm, if hoarse. He wiped his eyes with his jacket sleeve and pressed his lips tightly together.

"Yes," said the Ishvalan evenly. "We could have."

"So." Worse, he thought. I made it worse. He took another deep breath, held it for a second, and then let it out slowly. "Well..."

"But... I'd still like those other guys you watched to know about this," he said somberly. "They should see these kids. Any good news is good for morale."

"They left them to die!" said the first Amestrian, objecting.

And Ishvala brought us there to save them," said the Ishvalan at the table. "That's a very good idea, Second Lieutenant Havoc. Let's arrange to bring your men over. They'll be doing a lot of the manual labor for us, won't they?"

"Yes, sir," Jean answered with a tentative smile. "They will."

Then the Ishvalan stood up, went over to the dish next to Jean, and touched sand and forehead. "We should talk over the fire pit this evening," he said. "I'm no priest and I'm going to be drinking tonight anyway."

Jean looked down at the dish of sand for a second before answering.

Then he looked back up. "You're on!" he said with a grin.