Ok, I had to re-upload this chapter cause some people were confused.
To clear things up: italics are Ed's flashbacks, still confused? stop by my LJ Username: keylah
Disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue. Are we on agreement?
Warnings:...ANGST!
Notes: Ed's somewhere around 19 years. No spoilers. Can take place anytime on the FMA timeline.
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A little boy ran out of the watching crowd, darting after the pale haired braided figure in red that had walked away moments before, no one stopped him. Running after the person, his young mind was full of questions. He chases the figure, as it swiftly walks, taking them into the broad desert, far enough away that the village is just a medium sized collection of specks in the distance.
"Mister! Hey mister!" he calls
"Hey! Mister! Wait! I need to ask you something!" a young boy yelled, chasing after the alchemist, leaving his protesting younger brother behind in the market place.
The person stops at the top of a hill, facing the village, and turns around, golden eyes intense as they look at the gasping boy halting in front of him, hands on his knees, panting.
Golden eyes searching the older, more worn, one's carefully, the young 7-year-old face, framed with gold tendrils, puzzled, and questioning.
The person waits patiently, unusual for him though it was, the intense gold gaze softening ever so slightly. The boy reigns in his pants and gasps for air, as he begins to breathe easier.
Tugging on the red coat, that was now, perhaps, a bit too small on the slender frame it cloaked, he asks, "Mister, why do you do the things you do?"
The golden haired alchemist feels a vague sense of déjà vu of a buried memory.
"Mister, why do you do these things?"
The man looks at him uncertain of what he means.
"Why do you do it? If it hurts so many people?"
The man understands and smiles softly, with more than a little weariness," I do it because I have to."
The boy is still puzzled
The alchemist smiles sadly, and clenches a hand tightly, the glove covering it simply masking the automail limb.
"I do it because I have to" because alchemists work for the good of the people
"You don't have to do it, it's your choice isn't it?" The boy asked, still curious, and slightly angry
"Why do you have to? It's your choice." The boy asks, his young brown eyes curious.
"I do it because I have to"
"Because I have to"
"Why, why do you have to?"
"Why do you have to?"
"Because I need to" The man replies
"Because I need to, because I made a mistake, because I have to fix it"
"Why do you need to? Why not let someone else do it?"
"Why? Why not let someone else fix it for you?"
"Because I can"
"Because I need to be the one to fix it, because I'm the only one who can"
"I don't understand!" The golden eyes narrow slightly in anger and frustration. The answers were puzzles he could not solve.
"What do you mean? Stop talking in riddles!" The boy says, frustrated.
The alchemist understands, he knows how the boy feels, he's been in that position before, but he cannot explain it, there are no words that can explain the bitter and lonely feeling of duty and failure.
"I don't expect you to, perhaps, when you're older, you'll understand" A sad smile, full of conflicting emotions, flits across his face as the alchemist turns away, and walks down the road that will take him out of Rizenbul. The small boy stands there alone in the moonlight, and puzzles over the answers.
"You're too young. You wouldn't understand. Now go back home, it's getting dark" the alchemist softly replies. He watches the boy reluctantly trudge back towards the village. He waits till the boy reaches the outskirts of his home. Still facing the village, he slowly pulls off the glove of his right hand, and holds the automail limb, outstretched, slightly above his face. He watches the soft moonlight gently ripple across the smooth, flawless silver of automail as he flexes it, instead of the soft pink of human flesh and bone.
'You wouldn't understand' he had said, he speaks, once more, to the boy, whose ears will never hear his words "Hopefully, you never will" he adds softly, and sadly
"…perhaps, when you're older, you'll understand"
The Fullmetal Alchemist snorts in derision, the alchemist's last words to him ringing through his head, the sad, strange, smile, for a moment, obscuring his vision. He understands perfectly now, he understands everything the man had told him, he understands the smile, for he feels that exact same sad smile crease his features as he stares, transfixed, at the rippling moonlight on silver metal. His mistake, his responsibility, his to fix, his redemption, his duty and debt to his brother.
A cold wind blows, ruffling blonde bangs and a golden braid. He looks up, moonlight soft and bright silver, not unlike his automail, embracing his serene features.
"Hopefully you never will, hopefully, I can prevent you from ever understanding." He murmurs, his eyes slowly open, still looking into the bright moon, the small sad smile still lingers on his face.
Oh, yes, he understands now.
And he wishes, now, that he didn't.
Understanding comes with knowledge
Knowledge comes from experience
Those with experience can never explain
You must seek knowledge by yourself
Yet sometimes, knowing everything isn't always the best
Those with experience wish for the younger ones
To never understand
Rejection and suffering
Betrayal and loss
And the hollow pain
That comes with Duty,
Responsibility, and Redemption
OMG, so much angst cannot be healthy for me -spazzes- lemme know if I should turn this into a drabble series, if so, any name ideas? -still spazzes at the thought of being good at wrighting angst-
