Hey! I haven't written on Fanfic in what… three, maybe four years.
Please note the following
EVERYTHING IS EXPLAINED. If you've never seen Alchemist, you'll be able to follow this story just as easily as if you have seen it.
HOWEVER…
CONTAINS MEGA SPOILERS THROUGH EPISODE 45! This story starts off during the end of episode 45 for chapters 1 and 2, and then splits off into its own story.
Having said this, enjoy!
Night approached fast, as the cashier at the Rizenbul train station leaned back into his chair, letting his squarish cap fall slightly off his head, tilting cocked to the left and poised to fall off. It had been a ridiculously slow day; it was in-between seasons for crop production and none of the farmers of the small agricultural village had use for the trains.
'Well, at least I'm still getting paid for this,' the man thought, noticeably bored with himself, until he realized an average-looking boy rapping hard on the till with the back of his fist.
His black hair fell past his shoulders, and he was hidden almost completely by a large woolen pea jacket that fell just an inch above the ground. Everything he wore was a gothic black, even a pair of sunglasses (which seemed far out of place this late) save a pair of stark white gloves that brought immediate attention to the sixteen-ish boy's hands.
The cashier straightened immediately upright.
"Uh… one ticket please on the 8:20 to Central," the boy said, sounding slightly nervous.
The cashier, looking behind the boy, figured out why. A large item of undistinguishable form wrapped in canvas tarp stood upright, with a lone piece of brown luggage leaning haphazardly against it.
"Sir," the cashier said, "there's been a couple instances of fugitives lately. I have to look at that large… thing you seem to be bringing with you, you know, routine check. And it costs extra for oversized pieces, too. Sorry kid."
The cashier came out behind the till. He could see the boy was sweating profusely, whether it was due to his heavy coat or the fact that the cashier needed to check his luggage, he wasn't sure. Unhooking the rope in the tarp, it fell away to reveal…
"A bronze statue of Major Armstrong?" the cashier asked. He'd seen the military officer a few times coming in and out of Rizenbul, and his picture occasionally in the paper, but never expected this.
"Ah, I'm sorry, it's not very good," the boy said modestly. "I was commissioned to make that for the big guys in Central and I have to deliver it for some ceremony tomorrow. Well, I just wish they had given me more time or some better supplies, but you work with what you have, you know?"
The cashier nodded out of politeness, as he was unable to draw anything past a stick figure, let alone cast someone's likeness in bronze. He at least understood the sweating (the boy was probably nervous that his work would be criticized).
"Hey," he said looking at the boy, "I'll wave the extra luggage charge. But just this once. When the train pulls in, do you need help loading this?"
The boy scratched the back of his head and replied with a soft, "Yeah, that would really help," slumping exhaustedly into one of the wooden benches. Snoring immediately ensued.
'The poor kid probably dragged that statue all the way here,' the cashier thought. 'I guess I'll just wake him when the train arrives."
END 1