Aztec Goddess: I dunno why; I just can't write a fan fic without using the name:

Kelly!

Blurry vision. Constant change of scene. It was that dream again

I was much younger ,six or seven, laying on the kitchen floor, drawing. And my mom was cooking. For real this time. But everything was grey or brown and most of the appliances were missing. No table, no refrigerator, only one counter, but the stove was conveniently still there for my mom. "Mommy, why won't you teach me alchemy?" I asked, apparently trying to draw a transmutation circle.

"Sorry, it's not for you, Zolfy," she replied in her normal voice. Not monotone.

"It's 'cause of Dad," I spat. "It's not fair! He should just die then – it's not like it'll be a big deal." I stood up and the scene suddenly changed. I laid down on the living room couch next to my mom. Nothing else was in the room, except for starfish scattered on the floor.

"Don't say things like that," my mom said, probably responding to what I said earlier.

I hid my face on her lap. "But it's true. When someone dies, everyone else gets over it, like it never happened. So that means nothing matters."

She stroked my hair and replied, "Zolfy . . . absolutely everything matters. Haven't you heard the story of the men and the starfish?"

"Sounds stupid . . ."

The sound of waves could be heard. Then all I could see was the seashore full of starfish, but I still heard my mother's voice telling the story. "There was a man who walked along the seashore when the tide was low, when starfish would be pushed out of the water. He would grab one of those starfish and throw it back into the ocean. But every time the waves came back, ten more starfish would be pushed out of the water. So he would grab another, and another, yet more kept coming."

"So why was he wasting his time? Why would he even want to throw those starfish back if more kept on coming?" I interrupted.

"That's what I'm going to tell you. One night, another man saw this, and he wondered the same thing. So he asked the man, 'What are you doing? You'll never put all those starfish back in the water.' The first man said, 'It's simple. If I leave the starfish here like this, they'll shrivel up and die.'"

"But who cares if a bunch of starfish die? They don't matter to anyone!" I saw myself appearing out of nowhere and walking up to the seashore, next to one of those starfish.

"That's what the other man said. So the first man picked up a starfish and replied, 'It matters to this one.' And he threw it back into the ocean. And he picked up another and said, 'This one, too.' And he threw it back into the ocean. And he picked up another . . ." Her voice kept on repeating as I picked one up myself.

" . . . Liar," I said to it. "You don't give a shit. And no one will notice one missing-"

A shrill, happy voice snapped me out of my dream. "Hey, newbie! Congratulations!" It sounded like a girl. She must have busted her way into my room somehow. What a lovely way to greet people.

"On what, waking up?" I muttered as I rubbed my eyes and sat up on my bed.

The girl wore the standard military outfit and she looked no older than me. Her long, curly brown hair was down and she had an odd look on her face as she tilted her head at me. "You're a guy, right? But your hair's all long and pretty . . . well, it's kinda messy now. And your clothes are all wrinkly and your eyes are only half open." Then she looked awfully amused, almost proud, when she stated, "People sure are ugly in the morning!"

"Yeah, that's great and all," I replied, "but if it's not too much trouble, I would like you to get the hell out of my room." I got out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

"Aw, but I just got here!" I heard her whine as I made certain the lock on the door worked. "I'm here to welcome the new fellow State Alchemist to this wonderful place where your superiors break you down and mold you into becoming the perfect little faceless unit capable of only following orders!" And people called me crazy.

I turned on the bath faucets, hoping it would drown out her voice, but it was futile. As I took a shower, she kept on talking: "I really hope you like this place! Usually, people try to leave at a time of war, but as dogs of the military, it's our duty to pound, destroy, rip, shred, tear our enemies into submission – or death. Whichever comes first!" Now that, I could agree on, but her choice of words seemed rather odd to me . . .

"Who are you anyway?" I asked.

"I'm called the Esuna Alchemist!" she declared. "My skills aren't very effective when it comes to killing our enemies but I'm still being sent to Ishbal since, well, I'm kinda invincible. It wouldn't matter if a billion enemies shoot at me – I'll still be able to take my sweet time killing them off the old-fashioned way. It's much more fulfilling that way."

"So I take it you specialize in regenerating or something . . ."

She giggled. "Regenerating. Such a fancy word! Starfish regenerate, y'know. I really hoped that would be my Alchemist name, but they chose Esuna, whatever that means."

Now that was just plain creepy. It was as if everything she came up with had something to do with me. But it could just be a happy coincidence, so I chose not to dwell on it. I turned off the water, got out of the shower and . . . she was standing right in the middle of the bathroom like no one's business. I could no longer remain indifferent. "What the hell's your problem?" I yelled at her.

"Hey, looks like you're finally wide awake!" she said. "Now you can start your day! Oh, but you should put clothes on first."

"No, really," I retorted as I pushed her out of my way to get back to my room. The door was still locked. "Another one of your skills?" I mumbled, hastily opening the door and pulling out my undergarments and uniform from the closet. The Esuna Alchemist followed me, looking a tad confused.

". . . Did I make you mad?" she asked. "Sorry, but I only like talking to people when I actually see them. Did I go too far?"

"Only by a lot."

"Okay, let's start over then!" she chirped. "I'm Kelly Tiramen, the Esuna Alchemist!" She held out her hand. ". . . Hey, you gotta shake my hand and tell me your name! That's like an unwritten rule!" She seemed completely oblivious to the fact that I was still pulling up my pants.

Once I completed my first mission – putting on my clothes – I shook the crazy girl's hand and said, "Zolf J. Kimblee. It's been a pain meeting you, Kelly."

Kelly giggled again. "Yeah, I get that a lot. By the way, what's your Alchemist name and what does the J stand for? I like calling people by their full name."

"Kimblee is fine."

"Kelly's fine, too!"

Before I could even decide how to correct her, a phone rang. Since it was my room, I took the wild guess that it was mine, so I picked it up. "What?" I greeted the stranger.

"You will address me as the Iron Blood Alchemist or rather, Colonel Basque Grand." the man replied. "If you haven't been told yet, I'm your commanding officer."

"Okay."

"I expect to see you in my office today, newbie."

"And I suppose there will be conveniently placed arrows around this building to show me the way." I should have been less sarcastic, but I was not having a good morning.

"No. We don't have such luxuries in a war zone, so why the hell would we have them here?" He sounded less angry than I expected. "Since you made it as a State Alchemist, I'll rely on faith that you're intelligent enough to find your way." I immediately looked over at Kelly, who was staring intently at a small spider crawling up a wall. She poked at it over and over again, but somehow never killed it. That had to take a lot of intelligence.

"Fine," I said, but the Colonel had already hung up. How rude. But I felt much better when I found breakfast in the fridge.

"So, who called?" Kelly asked, still staring curiously at the spider.

"That Colonel guy," I answered while stuffing my mouth with mini muffins. Wow, I forgot what good food tastes like.

"Colonel Basque Grand the Iron Blood Alchemist?" Kelly said a mouthful, and she had just started again: "Hey, I know him! He's my commanding officer, too! . . . I don't like him. He's ugly. And he sounds mean. But that's okay 'cause when we're out at war, I get to go off on my own!"

"So do you know where he is in this building?" I finished up some precious junk food and took a gulp from the milk carton.

"Uh . . . No. But I know how to find out! Clean up your face and let's get going!"

I was under the impression that Kelly knew her way around the building since she had supposedly been here much longer than me. After walking in circles for an hour or so, I knew I was wrong. "I know he's here somewhere," she kept on saying. Brilliant deduction.

"Admit you're lost," I kept on saying.

"No!" she whined. Then her face lit up. I looked at her general direction and saw a serious-looking militant with black hair enter a room. "That room that guy went into has to be Colonel Basque Grand–"

"You seriously need to stop that."

"TheIronBloodAlchemist's room!" she defied me. Then she tugged at my sleeve. "C'mon! What if we're late?"

I did not budge. "I dunno. Basic reason skills state that just because a stranger walked into a room doesn't make it the room you're looking for."

Kelly gasped. "You dare say there's a flaw in my basic reasoning skills? How 'bout you prove me wrong then? Ha, I'd love to see that! You're gonna feel like an idiot when you see you're wrong!"

Just to shut Kelly up, we walked into the aforementioned room. The man with the black hair was standing, talking to another man who was sitting at his desk. And lo and behold, his name plate read Colonel Basque Grand. Kelly giggled at my dumbstruck expression.

"Nice to see you decided to join us, Crimson Alchemist," Basque said to me, holding out a small package.

"Who the hell came up with that?" I said, grabbing the package from him and opening it. It was a paper from the Fuhrer. Apparently, he did. I found no drive behind naming me after a color when my specialty is blowing things up. And there was nothing crimson about it – my victims had no time to bleed. Whatever.

"Am I going to be working with this guy?" the black haired guy said with a hint of revulsion in his voice. And he was pointing at me. Militants never cease to be rude.

"That's for you two to decide, Flame," Basque replied. Flame? Someone needs to come up with better names. "As long as you State Alchemists get your job done, I don't care how you go along with it. I called you here so you'd know in advance who you will be taking orders from when we head over to Ishbal."

"And when will that be?" I asked.

"In a week, or much less if things go my way."

Basque Grand must have been one happy camper because we left two days after that. It was at night, though. And it was cold and the train was just as bad and I ended up sitting next to that Flame guy.

"What brought you here?" he asked, trying to start a conversation, though I saw no point in it since he obviously already had something against me.

"Biologically, my parents did," I replied. "But they're gone now, which is why I'm here."

"I hear you can make things explode . . ."

"Yes."

"So you can see why I have reason to believe you–"

"Blew them up? Yeah, thanks for putting two and two together. Judging by your disapproving expression, I suppose it's supposed to be a secret, so . . ." I shushed him.

He glared at me. "Someone like you shouldn't even be here."

"I'm sure we're not as different as you're making it sound."

He did not reply to that; wonder why. He turned his body completely against me and scooted as far away as possible.

"You're mean. You don't like me," I said indifferently, of course.

"Go to sleep," was all he said.

"I love you, too." Saying that made him twitch. Ha, I knew he wanted to laugh! As did I, but I was so freakin' tired. But the seats were terribly uncomfortable and the night was only getting colder.

I gave up trying to fall asleep when I felt something soft fall on my face late at night. It was followed by a familiar voice whispering behind me, "What does the J stand for?"

"Get your hair out of my face, Kelly," I whispered back.

Kelly moved over and rested her chin in the headrest between me and the sleeping Flame Alchemist. "But I only know you as Zolf J. Kimblee the Crimson Alchemist. That's so incomplete . . ."

"Well, I'm pretty sure I'm also a Major. At least that's what the Fuhrer said. But seriously though, just call me Kimblee."

Kelly frowned. "Why don't you wanna tell me your middle name? Is it something really stupid that makes you think your parents just gave you it to torture you? After all, you've gotta admit Zolf sounds really weird."

"Hey, shut up," I warned her.

"I bet that's it, though. I heard from people here you really hated your parents. Then you killed them, right?"

"Got a problem with that?"

"Not at all!" she replied enthusiastically but still keeping her voice down. "But I'd understand the situation better if you were ugly."

"What does that mean?"

"Parents don't like taking care of ugly kids. Everyone knows that," Kelly mused. " . . . Do you think I'm ugly?" She stared at me with an anxious look on her face. What the hell? Where did the Kelly I first met go?

"I've seen uglier . . ." I said, unsure if that was reassuring. But thankfully (or so I thought), Kelly took it a good way.

"You're pretty, too!" she said. "Like a girl! Do you ever get that?" She never knew when to quit.

That was the longest night. Ever.

Aztec Goddess: For those of you wondering, I don't use the name Kelly with anyone in mind. There's just something about that name that I like. Oh, and I didn't get "Esuna" from Final Fantasy or anything like that.