As was only to be expected, the weekend passed with altogether to much speed, and Edward found himself facing Monday once more. After not having been able to sleep Friday and Saturday night, Ed had tried with all his might to convince Izumi to allow him to stay home, but alas. His adoptive mother wanted Edward getting his education, and she was not a woman to be argued with.
That being said, exhaustion didn't argue with anyone, it was merely a fact. Alphonse, bless his soul, understood that and had ensured Ed left the house with his clothes facing the right way out and his bag on his shoulder (and packed—his little brother had checked). Moved by this small act of kindness, though it wasn't unusual for Al, Edward had reflected that being alive was maybe not so bad after all.
A notion that was called into question immediately upon walking into Mr. Hughes's classroom for first period.
Even before the bells rang, Ed knew what was coming. The desks, normally arranged so as to face the front of the room, had been adjusted to form a circle around the perimeter. It was a positioning he was well familiar with…it would be a discussion day.
While Mr. Hughes had made it known this would be coming (and frequently), it still sent a shock through Edward's dead bones. The weight that seemed to hit his shoulders the second he walked into CCHS only intensified as Ed stumbled into a free seat. The fortunate news was that it was as far from Winry—who was seated directly next to Mr. Hughes's desk—as he could feasibly be. It had become an easy habit of his to clock her position whenever he walked into the room, so he chose the seat on instinct. Plus, it was the closest to the door, should Ed decide a quick escape was necessary. The unfortunate news was that, due to the nature of a circle, he was right across the room from both his ex and their teacher's seat.
Too late to do anything, now. Mr. Hughes was almost skipping into his class along with the bell, his dog-eared copy of Hamlet clutched in his right hand like a religious text. "Hey everyone! Hope you had a refreshing weekend, 'cause we are really digging into the good stuff today!" The teacher crossed the room quickly, his long legs clearing the various backpacks lying around with ease. Plopping down into his swivel chair, Mr. Hughes looked around the room with surprise. "Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone pull out your copies of Hamlet for our very first chi-chat!"
Ed wanted to bury his head in his hands. Arms moving on autopilot, he reached into his bag and grabbed the book in question. He'd read it in its entirety, though the class was only meant to have finished the first act over the weekend. After all, it wasn't like Edward had a social life to fill his days off with anymore. But reading something was completely different than comprehending it; Ed could tout off the basic plot, but the finer details had escaped him. With the growing trend of his failing intelligence, Edward couldn't say he was surprised. Still, it wouldn't make this experience any easier.
Turning to a random page within the play, Ed resolved to do his utmost to not have to speak. With any luck, Mr. Hughes would be too distracted by the points his classmates were making to realize Edward wasn't participating.
"Alrighty!" The man in question clapped his hands together. His hands sure looked strong…no! Focus, dammit. "Let's get started. I find this generally goes smoothest if I pose a subject or question to you all, and then everyone can share their opinions. Let's just start from the beginning, shall we?" Mr. Hughes cleared his throat before consulting some note he'd stuck inside his copy. "Hamlet is first introduced to us in the second scene of act one. In it, we see he is grieving for his lost father, while his mother and Claudius seem unmoved. Why do you think this is?"
And three, two, one…Right on cue, Winry piped up. When they were friends and then a couple, Edward admired her shameless devotion to her education, even if her enthusiasm was a little too much. Now, he saw it less as being studious, and more as being an insufferable teacher's pet. "It's obviously suspicious how easily Claudius and the queen move on. Hamlet reacts more realistically, with more emotion, and they seem almost less than human for not caring that the old king is gone. It's an easy way for the audience to establish sympathy for Hamlet, and to creating animosity towards his family."
Careful not to look up too far from his book, lest that catch anyone's attention, Ed scanned the room. Was anyone else going to say something, or would this be a conversation between Mr. Hughes and his pandering ex? Thankfully, after a few seconds of empty silence, Lucas piped up. "To play devil's advocate, is it really that weird that they would move on? After all, this was written hundreds of years ago. People had shorter life spans, right? And medical science wasn't anything like what it is today. So, for Claudius and the queen, this probably wasn't the first death they'd gone through. Hamlet is younger, so it may be hitting him harder, but that doesn't have to mean the other two are evil."
Unable to resist seeing the sour look on Winry's face, Ed looked up. Worth it. Puffing her cheeks out, his ex retorted, "That's true, but come on. Shakespeare needs us to pick a side, here, and we aren't supposed to pick Claudius's. Besides, even if the king and queen are reacting in an appropriate way for the time, they should still understand that Hamlet would feel differently and be empathic of his sadness, instead of mocking it."
Lucas only raised his hands up in surrender. "Hey, like I said, I was just playing the devil's advocate."
This time it was Paninya who spoke. Predictably, she agreed with Winry. This discussion had only just started and already Edward was feeling drained by the classroom politics. "I get where you're coming from, Lucas, but what makes it obvious to me that Winry's right is that the queen is Hamlet's biological mother. She lost a husband but has immediately moved on to Claudius—the last king's brother! That's pretty messed up."
It was, though coming from someone Edward was less than enamored by, a fair point. However, that didn't stop Mallory from countering it. "What if it wasn't her choice? After all, women were used as pawns all the time in those days. Maybe Claudius is a bad guy, but the queen may have been ordered to marry him…in which case, she's just as much a victim of his as Hamlet is."
Though he felt like his head was full of cobwebs, Edward found himself enjoying the back-and-forth. So much so that he cast his eyes about the circle of students, only to make the fateful mistake of catching Mr. Hughes's gaze. "What do you think, Ed? Sounds like a pretty unanimous consensus that Claudius is a villain, but what about Hamlet's mother?"
Fuck, stupid, fuck. Gathering his thoughts as best as he was capable of these days, Edward answered quietly, his head and eyes once more downcast. No one in the room besides his teacher wanted to hear anything he had to say, after all. "I agree with Mallory," he muttered. And, knowing full well he would be expected to elaborate, Ed pulled a somewhat coherent reasoning out of his ass. "Claudius probably ordered the queen to marry him; his allegiance with her would make him seem like a better candidate for the throne."
From across the circle, Winry—probably angry that he'd dared to speak in what she had decided was her class—sent Edward a glare so full of vitriol that he physically recoiled. Drawing into himself, Ed looked pointedly back at his copy of Hamlet. He would not glance up anymore, and if he possessed even the smallest bit of luck, Mr. Hughes would be happy with his one contribution to the discussion.
As though from a distance, Edward heard the conversation continue with Trevor. "Later on in the act, Horatio worries about Hamlet meeting the ghost because it might make him crazy. What if Hamlet already is a little mad, so his mother married Claudius and threw in her lot with him because she really believed he would be a better king than her unstable son?" An interesting proposition, but one that Ed didn't have the mental capacity to consider. All he could focus on was that withering look from the girl he'd once been so close to.
What exactly had he done to deserve such hatred? Okay, that was a dumb question. Edward knew his actions had started the whole debacle last year. His actions and his sexuality. Everything was his fault, but even so, had Winry not exacted her revenge? She'd thoroughly and completely mortified Ed, and turned practically everyone he knew against him. Wasn't that enough?
Why couldn't he just be different, be normal? The familiar wish brought mistiness to Edward's eyes, and he buried his nose further in his book with the hope that no one would notice. Not that anyone would care if they did. Suddenly his earlier notion of escaping out the classroom door, closed but so close and inviting behind him, didn't seem so far-fetched.
At this rate, Ed may have preferred getting expelled for fighting rather than feeling this horrible, slushy weakness every day for the rest of the year. It was too late, though; his knee-jerk response had been tempered, over the summer, and all Edward was left with was the disgust he felt for himself. That and the soul-crushing cloud of sadness that had become his companion without him noticing.
Edward needed to quit ruminating on this shit. Focusing, he brought himself back to the present and the play in his hands. Maybe he was just as deranged as Hamlet could seem.
In the bustling halls of CCHS, it simply wasn't possible to walk from one class to another without brushing up against someone else. Knowing his social status, Ed always did his best to make himself small in the corridors. If he tucked his elbows in and hunched his shoulders and kept his eyes down, Edward could minimize contact. And that was exactly what he did all day, every day; now, having just exited his Latin class, was no different. As Ed traversed the two hallways necessary to get to his next course, he bumped shoulders a couple of times, but that was normal. Perhaps he got some looks; Edward didn't know, keeping his eyes down.
That is, until he heard a call from behind him, unquestionably directed his way. "Brother!"
Ed turned on instinct, happy surprise at encountering Alphonse after the morning he'd had bringing a faint smile to his face. It also lowered his guard just enough for a mistake. As he stopped, twisting to pinpoint his brother, his hand flew out from its careful position glued to his side…
…and connected with an unknown thigh, warm and hard.
Like lightning, understanding crackled through Edward. The smile that had just barely graced his face retreated into a grimace, and he snatched the offending arm away. Not fast enough. Ed could actually feel the blood draining from his face as the student he'd hit spun around to face him. Of all the rotten fucking luck. Elijah was one of CCHS's top athletes, towering over Edward by a foot and built like a goddamn truck. He was also one of Winry's new friends.
"It was an accident," Ed gasped, clutching his wrist to his chest as though by physically restraining his hand he could take back the brush of contact. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I—"
His stammered apology was cut off rather thoroughly by the same leg he'd just hit coming up and slamming into Edward's crotch. Gasping, Ed dropped to the ground, white hot pain curling in his gut. He was going to throw up. Oh, shit. Vaguely, he heard Elijah above him. "Don't touch me, you fucking fag!" Heartbeat echoing in his ears, Edward saw nothing but shoes as everyone turned to see what the commotion was. He wasn't dumb enough to think that anyone would help.
Ed was all alone in this. As another kick connected with his side, a tiny spark of the old Edward flared to life. Consequences be damned. He wasn't going to lie on the ground and take a beating like a fucking dog. Ignoring the ache in his pelvis, Ed used his elbows to push himself up until he was kneeling on the linoleum flooring. Elijah reared his leg back once more, aiming high, but this time Edward was ready. Falling backwards just in time to avoid getting slammed in the face, Ed then shifted his weight, jumping back into a fully upright position.
The surprise on this numbskull's face was so sweet—and the crunch of his nose beneath Edward's furious fist was even better. Adrenaline brought a laugh bubbling to his lips. After so many months of feeling helpless and scared and alone, this rage felt wonderful. Like an old friend.
It was not to last. As Ed wound up for another punch, his arm was caught by a firm hand. Spell utterly broken, Edward turned his head to see who'd had to bring him back down to reality. Mr. Mustang stood behind him, his fingers clasping Ed's forearm solidly. Miraculously, his gaze was filled not with anger or disapproval, but with a strange calmness that took all the fight out of Edward as quickly as it had come. Slumping, Ed closed his eyes. He knew what would come next.
Releasing Edward, Mr. Mustang raised a single dark eyebrow, glancing at Elijah as he spoke. It wasn't until the teacher's voice rang out that Ed realized the hall had gone completely silent. "You two, with me." Then, addressing the assembled students, "As for the rest of you, I believe third bell has already begun. Best be off."
Edward knew full well where they were going. Surely Principal Bradley would have some words for him. As he fell in line behind Mr. Mustang and Elijah, Ed caught Al's eye across the sea of unkind faces. His little brother's eyes were wide, full to bursting with worry and guilt. With the very real possibility of being suspended or expelled hanging over his head, Edward didn't want his last act in school to be upsetting Alphonse. So, though he didn't believe himself, Ed mouthed to his brother, "It's okay, Al."