A Hero's Reception
by Lt. Yoki
I had been unjustly routed from the Youswell Mines and the only thing I could think of is how to rightly return myself to the prestigious Amestrian military after just a cruel and wicked trick. Some told me that hubris caused my fall from Youswell, but it was a careful look into the future, my future, and how I would be able to support myself in the deserved lavish I had come to expect. How could I let a young child, already so wise in the areas of bribes and politics best me in the game I had played for so long to gain so little.
It wasn't a question of revenge, you see. I just needed to teach that State Alchemist a bit of a lesson. Show him what happens when young children meddle in the adult game of politics.
It took years to get back on my feet. Well, you couldn't really call living in a refugee camp "back on my feet." The meals were scavenged for, not brought to you on a plate. And garnish was not something you wanted.
But it all changed with a simple identification.
See, I've always prided myself on my eyes. I can pick out a criminal easily, even from a large throng with no identification specs out on them yet. See, I just can tell another shady character with an easy glance.
So when I saw this scarred man, it was apparent enough he'd done something atrocious, even before I'd heard of the terrible crimes he had committed in Central and East City.
I didn't ask for any parade, medal, or admittance to the military, but I didn't say no either. It wasn't long after becoming a hero for state that I passed up that child and his CO.
Laughing from above him seemed to be treatment enough.