The glass on the window broke and a rock with a piece of paper tied around it landed on the floor. Ed and everyone else jumped. Anger picked up the rock and opened the piece of paper.

"What does it say?" Marcoh asked.

Anger tossed the paper toward Ed and ran out.

"Where are you going?" Al asked.

Anger ignored them. She saw a shape peering out at her from behind the building.

"Stop, Bradley! Or should I just call you Murder?"

Murder stopped and turned around.

"Khumeia," he said.

Anger ran toward him and gave him a good, hard slap across the face.

"How dare you!" she cried. "How dare you not see her?"

"Khumeia, listen---"

"She's your own daughter, dammit!"

"They can't see me."

"You care more about your damn position than your own daughter, Fuhrer King Bradley? God, you're the lowliest S.O.B."

Murder stared at the ground. "I delivered the song."

Anger crossed her arms. "So I saw."

"Is she all right?"

"At the moment she's comatose. I think it has to do with the psychological strain."

"Poor girl."

"It's your own damn fault for teaching her alchemy! Why did you do that? Why did you put those ideas in my daughter's head?"

"Khumeia, she's not even really your daughter. You're not her mother. You're a living doll."

"And you're the Fuhrer and a living doll named Murder. What's your point? She made us to replace her parents. The least we can do is act like we give a damn."

"How can we act like that if we're not even real?"

"We breathe. We feel pain. We cry. We laugh. We kill. We eat. The only thing we can't do is die. I call that being alive and real."

"She can't forgive us, Khumeia. Don't you remember what we first did?"

Anger sank to the ground and buried her face in her hands. "It's not our fault! We were created in the name of those sins. How could we help it? And that's all the more reason to atone."

Murder put his hand on her shoulder. "It'll be all right, Khumeia. The brigadier general has been . . . disposed of. The other homunculi that were chasing her have been sealed away. She's out of harms way. Once the song is sung, she'll be better. She'll forget all about is."

"I don't want her to forget about us!" Anger wailed, pounding her fists on the earth.

"Don't you think we owe her that much? Do you think it's fair for her to remember all those painful memories? The memories that nearly destroyed her? The time when we were killed, her attempt at human transmutation, and other multiple transgressions into forbidden places. Do you think she really wants to remember?"

Anger didn't respond. She merely began to sob.

"I think she does," a voice responded.

Anger and Murder looked up.

"Al. Ed. What is it?" Anger asked, composing herself and standing up.

"It's not really a decision for you to make," Al continued, ignoring Anger's question. "I understand she created you in an attempt to bring her parents back to life, but that still doesn't give you the right to decide which memories are hers for the keeping."

"There are memories that are too painful to remember. Memories . . . that make us cry," Ed said, thinking of his mother's face. "But pain gives us strength. There are those that don't want to have all their memories, but they're the ones that do know who they are. They know their name, their friends, and their family. The ones that want to remember all their memories are those that can't remember. I guess you have to lose something to just know how valuable it actually is. Even something that seems worthless and painful, like a memory, is worth preserving."

"They're right," another voice said.

"Dr. Marcoh?" Ed asked.

Marcoh walked over to the little group. "Every memory is precious. None are right to forget and none are worth erasing. Although these boys shouldn't really preach about it, since they thought they were old enough to forget. Forget their attempt at bringing their mother back to life."

Ed and Al looked over to the side. It was true. They were trying to put the past behind them and Kirina was trying to reach her past.

"What are you going to do now?" Marcoh asked. "All four of you. What will you do now?"

"I know what I'm going to do."

Everyone turned. Kirina stood there, apart from the group. She had a serious, intense expression on her face.

"I'm sorry, Anger and Murder," she said. "I'm sorry for doing this to you. Mr. Marcoh and Al, I'm sorry for making you worry. Ed, I'm sorry for nearly getting you killed."

"You don't need to apologize for anything," Murder said. "I understand what its like to be young and alone and desperate. Desperate enough to try human transmutation."

"I know I made you to replace my parents, but, sadly, nothing in this world can replace them. Anger, you can't replace my mother's feistiness. Murder, you can't replace my father's humor. And even though you wish to act like my parents and protect me, the decision concerning my memories is for me to make. They're my memories and they're all here. There all in my heart, every single one of them. So my decision is this: I choose to live with every single one of my memories, no matter how painful they are. Yes, I may be only a child and am prone to psychological and mental problems, but I know I'm strong."

Ed smiled at her. That took guts.

Kirina wrung her hands. "I really hope you'll accept my apology."

Anger took Kirina's hand. "You really are a good girl, no matter how rude you are. And let me tell you something. Even if we're not your real parents, Bradley and I really love you. After all, who do you think it was who gave you those prosthetic toes? Well, goodbye." She let go of her hand and started walking away. "Let's go, Murder."

The homunculi left. Kirina watched them go.

"Goodbye," she whispered.

Just then, a shrill tune was heard.

Murder turned to Anger.

"Why did you do that?"

Anger faced the sky as it started to rain. "They must forget. Ed, Al, Kirina, they will forget. Only select memories will be left."

"But why?"

"Mind your own business."

Anger closed her eyes and Murder couldn't tell the difference between her tears and the rain that fell heavily. It made it seem as though the entire world was crying.

Now, I want everyone to remember this. This fanfiction was created before I knew the Fuhrer was a homunculus. My friend told me after I had finished this chapter. To make things a little different, I decided to call Pride (the Fuhrer's real name) Murder instead (which is kinda weird because he's more violent in the anime than this fanfic). To be honest, I really thought the Fuhrer was a nice guy in the beginning. He seemed like a sweet, carefree person. Now, of course, we all know he's a homunculus and . . . well, a very, very mean one.