Scars Chapter 1: Tiny Dancer
Author's Note: Greetings and Salutations, all! Welcome to my first attempt at a multi-chapter FullMetal Alchemist story! For those of you who are interested, this is a much expanded version of the drabble 'Scars', which can be found in my FMA drabble series.
I'd like to take this moment to offer up praise to my beta reader, Mint Pizza Queen. I have no doubt that by the time this story is done, she'll be crazier than I am.
Alphonse Elric was fairly certain his partner didn't know he watched her dance every morning. It was a tradition of sorts, going back almost three years now. She would go into the empty courtyard before dawn and dance to music only she could hear, and Al would stand on the balcony of his flat, have his morning cigarette, watch, and think.
Like most State Alchemists, the tiny dancer had many names. Officially, she was Shadow Alchemist Major Ishtar. When she wasn't around, the others referred to her as the Ishbalan. To Al, she was just Izabel (and to her, he was Alphonse). To her little brother, she was Izzy.
The only sounds in the Barracks Complex this early in the morning were those of the bangles and bracelets chiming together as Izabel moved. They were the only ones awake now.
Something about the stillness of this time of day made it easier for Al to think.
At the moment, he was thinking about the case file spread out across his bed.
Three state Alchemists in the space of a month. All found dead around the Ishbalan Resettlement Sector, their skulls crushed by an impossible force. Everyone knew who did it. After all, he'd done it before, killing scores of Alchemists before disappearing more than a decade ago.
It was easy to say it was Scar.
And Al was the only person who didn't think the easy answer was the right one.
Yes, Scar was capable of the killings… but it just didn't feel right. The killings seemed more designed to agitate people against the Ishbalan refugees.
Al looked down at the courtyard at the Ishbalan Alchemist without really seeing her. He took a drag off his cigarette and held the smoke in his lungs until they cried for air, remembering the sad and angry Ishbalan as he'd last seen him, before regaining his body. Even after all this time, the image remained sharp and clear as a photograph. A half a smile tugged at the young Major's lips. Scar wouldn't recognize him.
Izabel was whirling in one place, her copious jewelry flashing like silver fire in the faint light of the beginnings of dawn. It had been she who had given Al his first leads as to where Scar was now. He was sure that proving Scar's innocence was the key to cracking this case.
Izabel stopped moving, her arms raised high and her skirt still twisting around her legs. Al stubbed out his cigarette and went inside to feed the cats. Azazel was already climbing up the drapes, making the most unholy racket.
There was a lot of work to be done today.