AN: Welcome every reader to my first FMA fanfiction. This is my Christmas present for Hoshi2050 and every FMA fan out there. Some information before reading: (1) the story takes place between the end of the original anime and the movie Conqueror of Shamballa; therefore, it contains spoilers from the end of the series, (2) Anshaus is a fictional location, (3) I've watched the original anime ages ago, so I apologise if there're any controversies regarding canon (I hope there isn't any). Feedback is appreciated, now enjoy.
Mismatching
by NamaichiSanake
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(Present for Hoshi2050.)
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There was no scientific proof that the flow of time had a sound, but Edward Elric was certain he could hear the tiny clacking of some enormous clockwork whenever he let his mind dwell into its long repressed thoughts. The sight laid out in his vision, passing the train window at high speed was so painfully familiar—the monotony of the wheat fields waving slightly in the soft breeze outside marred with wooden fences here and there brought back images of a place where he belonged no more, memories of a person who he used to be, cheerfully playing the unsung hero until he slowly broke apart under the cruelty of a dream world that once was reality.
Golden eyes darkened a hue as he averted his attention back to the thick book on his lap, flipping a page with his latex-covered metal fingers. The complex illustrations and page-length equations were nothing more than light desserts for his mind sharpened on advanced alchemy books in Amestris. None of the top scientific discoveries of the era contained anything he hadn't heard about before. He constantly tried not to think about how tiny the chance of his promised return was considering the poor sources he could access—especially since his task was borderline impossible even the knowledge of Amestris. Not having other appealing opportunities, the former alchemist decided to place his hope into the collection Munich University had that Hohenheim talked about too.
Because the only option he completely refused to consider was giving up. He knew how much Alphonse was attached to him—bearing these times alone was undoubtedly hard for his younger brother too. Edward could never look into his eyes (his real, bronze hued eyes) again if he ever gave up on their reunion.
However, there was something in this world that had been bothering him since he arrived through the gate. Something that he could never explain properly, something that fell beyond the terminology of alchemy. The sinister feeling in the air, that one of a world running towards its doom at full speed. He sensed an unavoidable darkness approaching, lurking in the gazes of people leading the country where he was staying currently. Hohenheim had told horrible tales about a war that once shook this entire world—he hoped the people who had suffered through those terrors wouldn't be such idiots to make history repeat itself, despite the numerous signs telling otherwise.
His senseless fingers wrinkled the paper—was his desire to see Alphonse again the true reason he wanted to return home, or he was simply trying to run away from that future? The answer was probably both. He was not a hero; he was a human after all, just an average person carving for a real life on the inside. As much as he despised his home world in the way it existed, he was positive that with time, it was possible to make changes happen. But this new world was unbelievably large, the power focusing in the hands of such a few that made enforcing the will of someone else impossible. Everything one saw was forcing the thought of their own insignificancy into them until they became fully convinced about that.
That was the reason why he was scared of this world. He feared that eventually he would lose his strength to stand against that horrific current, he feared that he would die (for the second time too) on the inside, that Alphonse would never see that brother of his again who he had known since the beginning. He feared that his journey would abruptly come to an end before the boat of his life ported at his promised resolution.
Already, the only person living inside his head as a vivid memory was Alphonse. His brother, who was living in his real body on the other side of the gate meanwhile instead of that senseless armour he had cursed him to inhabit for years. Despite that he was the one who exchanged his entire being for his soul and body, he never got to know how Alphonse really looked like. He could only picture him as a young child or a hollow suit of armour in his head. But at least he was not alone—Edward was sure that Winry and Granny took a good care of him. He deserved Winry more than a brother who likely won't even recognise him when they meet. Inwardly, he knew Winry deserved Alphonse over him too. She never missed to show how much she cared about him (in her unique way), but he never acknowledged and reciprocated any of it before he disappeared from her life.
He even let her braid his hair for goodness sake, and he didn't even say thanks or goodbye despite it was their last meeting.
He was the one who came up with the idea of human transmutation, suggested to burn their house down, joined the military and turned back to the few people actually giving a damn about him. And Alphonse (being a good brother) followed him through all the consequences. And Winry (being a generous friend) supported him until the end without expecting anything in return. And he considered all of that natural, selfishly expecting and demanding it as if he ever did anything to deserve that.
From another perspective, he could understand this world as a part of some twisted lesson, in which he was shown an alternative where he never knew either of them, and the only person he could expect aid from was the one he hated the most. He had to admit, though, it was effective in that case. He found himself thinking about how to re-open the gate in a couple of weeks after his arrival. He needed them; he desperately needed them, both Alphonse and Winry. His life was not whole without them. Unless his existence was completely erased from Amestris due to some unknown factors, those two were still worried about him, whilst not even having a clue where he had disappeared to. Even if he only messed up their lives, he was still a brother and a friend, and he still had duties as both. First and foremost apologising to Alphonse for leaving him alone and promising Winry that he would never ignore her efforts anymore.
"C'mon, the Edmund I knew would never sulk like that," Edward jumped at the voice.
The rusty cabin door opened as a familiar figure stepped inside, throwing her bag onto luggage rack and promptly occupying her place next (almost too close) to him. He found himself staring at the female for seconds straight. Those naughty, pale blonde locks and bright blue eyes could only belong to one person. One person, who was supposed to be worlds apart from him, and would never actually wear such a pretty knitted blouse over a beige shirt unless it was mayday.
"—Winry?!" Edward scooted away immediately. "W—What? How? This is impossible!"
"What's impossible here? Jeez, but I told I would come. You couldn't seriously forget it, could you?"
He tried to interrupt. "Wait a second; I think you mistake me for someone else—"
She narrowed her eyes. "—don't screw around, Ed! I'm not buying cheap tricks like that."
Edward paused to gather those logical thoughts of his he was so proud of all the time. Winry was not supposed to be in Germany, not in the slightest. Scratch that—the possibility of her being there equalled zero. Whoever was that female on the seat beside him, she was not Winry. She was just an imposter—but apparently a very good one of that. She and Winry—they both looked the same, acted the same and treated him the same. Even though, he could sense in his bones that despite the confusing similarities, they were different people. She even got his name wrong for starters.
She probably noticed that too since she leaned a bit closer to examine him. "—wait a moment; you're really not Edmund Eichel."
"About time you realised," Edward huffed perplexed by her proximity. "my name is Edward Elric."
She politely distanced herself. "Mine is Wendy Rockefeller. I apologise for embarrassing you like that. I mistook you for my friend who lives around here. I thought he was trying to escape from my visit—but it has to be written on my account that you two look alike as a pair of twins. Even your names are similar."
Edward flipped a page in the book, pretending that he was reading to camouflage his puzzlement at her sight while wracking his mind for a logical explanation regarding the phenomenon in front of him. He smoothly continued the conversation. "Doesn't matter. Even I mistook you for someone else at first sight."
"That's why you called me Winry? I thought that was strange."
Edward gave no answer as he rested his eyes on an illustration demonstrating the structural build of a rocket. His attention averted back to his research topic from his mysterious companion. The functional theory was ridiculously simple and honestly, he couldn't imagine how such a primitive device would help him cross worlds, but he studied anything that might prove useful in his despair to get home. The former alchemist was jerked out of his thoughts by some inapposite blonde locks disturbing the description. "What kind of book do you read? Oh—is that a rocket?! Let me see it!"
She yanked the book out of his hands and viewed the illustrations with shining eyes. "The joints are so magnificently planned, the dividing panels fit to each other so well that even a drop of fuel cannot slip past them and guess what guess what—everything in it is made of chrome-carbon alloy! This is a true masterpiece—there's not even an unnecessarily screw in it!" Edward raised an eyebrow at her unusual source of bliss. "Where did you buy this book, uh—"
"—Ed is fine," he said stunned. "And I got that from my—father. Now give it back." Calling Hohenheim his father was still venom on his tongue.
"No way," she snapped. "at least not until I learn everything from it until the last dot."
She defiantly settled down on the opposite seat and merged into his book. Watching Winry—no, Wendy (he had to distinguish the two)—reminded Edward of something Hohenheim had said when they crossed the gate. Every person living in Amestris had a pair in this world, who looked and behaved identical to them—it was the counterpart theory. With the exact same appearance, apparently the same interests and personality, Edward concluded that Wendy Rockefeller was the counterpart of Winry Rockbell.
Golden eyes monitored her expression when she frowned at something, then jumped back a couple of lines to read that again—the thought that this young woman, who resembled Winry more than it should be physically and mentally possible was in fact not Winry was bizarre at the lack of better words. Even though, Edward was glad to meet her counterpart first. Despite she had been a close friend of his in Amestris, he thought he could handle seeing her doppelganger relatively well.
"—actually I want to work as a mechanic." Wendy said silently. "I love disassembling and piecing together things, I love the scent of the materials and can feel the beauty of the blueprints, but everybody just laughs in my face when I present my idea. They think I should pick a more feminine job."
"Well, I won't laugh at you," Edward started. "I actually know a mechanic girl. She's fairly good in her field."
"Seriously?!" Wendy jumped from her seat excitedly, but a moment of thinking later she leaned into his face again with a knowing look. "I bet her name is Winry, right?"
"Uhm—yes?" Edward reluctantly admitted.
"Girlfriend?" Wendy assaulted him with her next question.
"Definitely not!" Edward was fast to deny.
"—then yes." Wendy concluded using the incomprehensible logic of women. He raised an eyebrow in confusion when she suddenly broke into a soft giggling. "You really have no idea how similar you are to Edmund. I mean, you look the same; you behave the same and freak out the same. Unless you made it clear that you were a different person, I would believe you're Edmund. I can even picture him in my head saying exactly what you did if someone asked him if I was his girlfriend."
Edward scratched his cheek with an automail finger. "Because are you—"
"—I'm not!" Wendy snapped, but after occupying her place on the opposite seat, she started to tell a tale while gazing through the window, chin resting on her palm. "We know each other since childhood. We were both born and raised in Anshaus. From the beginning, everyone said we were strange kids—while the others of our age played ball, chased sheep, or helped around the house, we were bookworms. Edmund always understood every difficult formula and description completely alone and loved performing experiments—he was the born scientist. I, on the other hand, just read through his notes and repaired machines—"
The world suddenly started to spin around Edward—Anshaus. The Zeppelin attack. Unfading memories of dire destruction begun to flash before his inner eyes again. The counterpart theory didn't only state the existence of other world doppelgangers—it also said that (miraculously) someone crossing worlds would result in the immediate death of their counterpart. He witnessed that merciless reality with his own eyes when he saw a golden-haired boy, who could be easily him by appearance, ripped away from his life in the horrible battle that had shaken the city. But he knew his death was not like the numberless other ones—it wasn't inflicted by carelessness or rotten luck. The world convergence ended his life, and beneath that, he, Edward Elric.
Edmund Eichel, (from her reactions and descriptions) his counterpart and the childhood friend of Wendy Rockefeller was dead, dead because Edward Elric was messing with divine domain again, saving Alphonse back in the underground city. That loss had been necessary to preserve his conscious—although he never actually wanted that. He was prepared to die when he sacrificed himself for his brother, but Truth had to put another twist into his already twisted life. He was glaring daggers into the floor while wracking his mind on what to do. Wendy would eventually learn the death of her friend—there was no chance or point in sparing her from the dire truth. However, Edward found himself unable to hurt Wendy, even though showing kindness to her would never compensate the Winry he knew.
"Hey, are you feeling alright?" Wendy asked in genuine concern. "You should've say something if you were sick—"
She paused at the sight of Edward burying his face into his palm, harshly grabbing his golden bangs. "I—I'm alright."
Wendy was left unconvinced at his assurance. Men often tended to act tough even at the borderline of falling apart. Although that posture and tone he presented spoke of something worse—he looked like someone completely crushed by some horrific realisation. She simply couldn't wrap her mind around how he changed so much in the couple of seconds she wasn't watching. With a heavy sigh, she shut close his book she had taken from him—it was impossible in first place to learn a whole book worth of knowledge during a train ride, even for someone like her trained on scientific studies.
"This book not only contains the blueprints of several rocket prototypes, but also the complex chemical equations describing how to optimise the composition of the fuel—I'm surprised you flipped through the pages as if you were reading a novel. I bet you have some experience with science."
She thought some flattery would bring him back, but Edward just took the book she handed to him while adding in a low tone, "I am a scientist—some sort of that."
"Then I should introduce you to Edmund. He works as a scientist too—and definitely will be surprised to meet his secret twin." Wendy suggested cheerfully, but was shocked to notice his tightening grab around the armrest causing tiny cracks appear on the surface of the varnished wood upon the mention of the name. No human arm should be that strong. She suddenly grabbed his right hand much to his frighten and pulled it closer—but a sickening disruption later, only an elastic cover remained in her hands.
"Edward Elric, just what on earth—?" she stared at the now exposed mechanical arm. "How—How is that even possible?"
Golden eyes met bright blues, pleading her to drop the topic, even though he already knew he was fighting a losing battle in hiding his freakishness. His automail arm was a complete anomaly in this world—a technology that should not exist. There was no way he could explain that to a mechanic of all people. Even though, he was reluctant to share his secret with her, as he had never told anyone ever since he arrived. He had no idea about the consequences. Her stubborn determination to uncover the truth, however, was stronger than his resolve at that point. Deeply inside, he was even glad that someone would listen to his story.
"Have you ever heard of other worlds, Wendy?" he started insecurely, constantly watching her expression.
Her eyes dilated, but more because of recognition than puzzlement. "Shamballa—then Edmund was right! It really exists—"
"Wait, Edmund Eichel researched the possible existences of parallel worlds?!" Edward leaped to grab her shoulders, even if the answer was obvious.
"Y—Yes." Wendy hesitantly spilled. "Then you really—"
The confident golden gaze staring at her spoke in itself. The person in front of her through some incomprehensible way, but came from another world. Suddenly, everything started to make much more sense. She finally realised the reason behind his qualification in science and his similarity to Edmund. Counterparts. In the last study her friend had written, he mentioned that possibility. The thought that Edward and Edmund were the same person in two different worlds was fascinating.
"Unbelievable," Wendy grabbed her head, comprehending the real weight of the revelation. "Edmund has to see this. You have to come to Anshaus—"
She paused at his darkened expression. "—Anshaus was destroyed in an airship attack. Edmund Eichel died then, in the second I arrived to this world. The world convergence does not allow two counterparts to exist in the same universe." The horrendous revelation flew from his lips actually easier than he had thought. Withholding the truth was even crueller than spilling it. He rather told it now than noting en passant later when she faced her ruined hometown.
There was no sound, just the monotone rattling of the train. The sunlight coming from the window paled a hue as they each other. Edward firmly stood his ground as always even now, waiting for her reaction. Wendy took a step back in utter shock, and she was sure her emotions were an opened book for him to read judging by the tons of guilt suddenly clouding his golden eyes. Her mind was stunned at the epiphany. The news that Edmund died in the attack on Anshaus was already too much, but to think that Edward was its cause paralysed her thoughts. The sole thing she could focus on was finding someone to blame for her loss, and the golden-haired youth in front of her perfectly filled in that purpose. Holding him responsible for everything was rightful and almost too easy.
That was the logical conclusion, as he was the mismatching in her world after all.
But blaming someone's existence for the another's death was unfair. Even if in another world, Edward was Edmund. He was Edmund, but not at the same time. What's gone is forever lost—that was the truth determining the meaning and value of things. Edward would never replace Edmund even if he stayed in this world for the rest of his life (she still had no idea about his true intentions). Her friend was truly dead, and that would stay that way regardless what Edward may do. Instead of taking out her frustration on him, Wendy just wished to forget everything. This knowledge was unsettling and absurd—she was unable to peacefully say goodbye to Edmund with that weighting her shoulders.
Edward was taken off-guard when Wendy leaned to him, mouth forming unvoiced questions as she grabbed the rough fabric his clothes tightly. Then the grief took over her and caused uncontrollable sobs erupting from her as she used his shirt as a handkerchief. Golden eyes widened at first, startled by the affectionate reaction, but a second later, they softened as he insecurely wrapped his arms around her shaking form, wondering what she was thinking when she came to him for comfort. He was a walking disaster—everything he touched always went wrong. They shouldn't have even met each other. That way, she could've continue her life naively thinking the world was absolute. He made a huge mistake by telling her about Amestris—a mistake he would never make again.
Hours later, the train stopped by Munich Station. Edward checked the time on his pocket watch—7pm. He gently turned toward Wendy who was resting on his shoulder and laid her down onto the soft seat, wrapping her form into his thick coat. The dried tears were still visible on her cheeks as evidence that she had cried herself to sleep. Before stepping out the cabin, Edward turned back once more to burn the sorrowful sight into his memory. He had shattered her in the very moment she needed to be strong. He had to leave for that reason—she couldn't overcome her grief if he was in her proximity. If they grew closer to each other, she would just experience more pain.
Wendy undoubtedly stood close to Edmund. He had witnessed those pure emotions she felt towards his counterpart. His mind couldn't stop torturing him with mental images of his Winry suffering in a similarly back in Resembool. Edward knew she liked him as a friend, but to think she was attached to him this strong made him want to return home as soon as possible. He wished nothing but to run alongside that sinuous road through the rural fields, to fall into her arms and tell her he was finally home. That he would never leave again.
The cabin door was closed, but Edward rested his hand on the knob for a moment longer.
"Just hold on a bit longer. I will come home," his voice whispered. "Winry."