Kamaitachi Chronicles
By: Aviantei
Eight
I had expected to get overrun by Rito and Maes upon returning to East City, but it seemed all of Mustang's office was so caught up in their investigation that they didn't have time for that. Not yet a member of the military myself, I didn't have much reason to be hanging around that wouldn't be getting in the way, so I kept to myself and learned the layout of East City while performing minor alchemical fixes for some extra pocket money, only returning to Mustang's apartment for dinnertime in the event that he'd gotten news of my State Alchemist Exam placement.
Three days past our return, he had received just that.
"Normally I'd do this sort of thing in an official capacity, but your watch and other certifications still need to be delivered," he said when he got home that evening. "But I wanted to let you know that, even with your slip up, you passed. Congratulations, you're now the Sickle Weasel alchemist."
I snorted at him on the couch. "Who even picked that sort of name?" Mustang raised an eyebrow at me. I shrugged off his gaze. "I just read about it in a book when I was little, but there's an Eastern myth with the same title—the Kamaitachi." Not that I had any qualms about taking on such a name, even if my alchemy didn't have much to do with wind. Thinking on the East, though, reminded me of Liaoning. "Who else passed?"
Mustang thought it over for a few minutes as he paced towards his bedroom. I reminded myself that not everyone's brain sucked in information like mine did. What an inconvenience. "Abrams, the woman with the smoke did." I didn't doubt that; I felt convinced she could knock me on my ass in ten seconds flat. "And one other. I can't remember his name; I was more focused on your details so I could pass them on."
That meant it could have been Liaoning. But even if he did pass, he'd be more focused on his town and research, for sure. Sometime we might see each other, and I could thank him. Then again, if he didn't pass, it would be easy to track him down at the next exam if I needed to.
Mustang stepped out of his room, uniform dismissed, but in a fancier getup than his casual clothes. I couldn't help myself from thinking that his uniform suited him more. "What're you all dressed up for? Got a date or something?"
His chuckle was almost enough to knock out the elation from passing out of the way. "I'm sure you wouldn't appreciate my calling it that. You asked for a good meal when you passed, right? I do deliver on my promises, you know."
My mind processed that for a minute, then I hopped up on the couch and elbowed Mustang out of the way as I headed for the bedroom to change. "Give me ten minutes."
As I had been living out of my suitcase, I had just one nicer outfit tucked away for when I needed to impress a client or just plain wanted to treat myself (which wasn't often). Couple that with the fact that my hair was kept short, and it didn't take long for me to get ready. The thin turtleneck clung to my torso a bit tighter than it was meant to, reminding me that I hadn't bought myself new clothes in the past eleven months.
That was something I could deal with once I started getting my State Alchemist stipend in. As far as I was concerned, dinner was on Mustang.
We took a car, and I watched the streets roll past, streetlights starting to flicker on as sunset approached. When Mustang turned towards the more residential districts instead of the shopping ones, I glanced at him, but didn't say anything. I couldn't cover the whole city on foot in three days, so he had to know more about the locations than I did.
What a pain in the ass.
He parked in front of a single story house, getting out without any hesitation. I glanced around, knowing a quiet street when I saw one, and followed suit. "Lt. Colonel," I said, following him up the sidewalk, "mind telling me just where we are?"
"Oh, you'll see soon enough."
And see I did when, seconds after Mustang rang the bell, the front door of the house flew open, revealing Maes on the other side. At least, I assumed as much, considering I was swept up into a hug and Maes's voice was near blowing out my ear as he said, "Congratulations on your exam!"
"Thank…you," I managed, trying to extract myself from Maes's hold without harming him. My lifestyle hadn't left much room for sudden contact from others, even if Maes was something closer to a friend. Not just a friend. A comrade. You're in the same boat now. Maes ceased his hug, giving me room to breathe, and Mustang smirked. I resolved to kick the crap out of him at the next possible opportunity. "Geeze, I didn't know the Lt. Colonel here was so cheap he has to mooch off his friends for dinner."
Maes laughed, his hand on my shoulder to guide me inside. Despite how large his palms were, the gesture was gentle. "Well, I insisted, actually. You haven't met Gracia yet. Have I told you about Gracia? Oh, she's just the sweetest thing, I—"
"Yes, you showed me a picture when we first met," I said, trying to subvert the oncoming rambling. Mine and Mustang's jackets secure on the coatrack, Maes led us down the hall, towards the savory scent of grilling meat. "I appreciate the gesture, but I don't want to impose."
"Nonsense." Maes shook his head as we rounded a corner. Pictures of Maes and his wife from various stages of their relationship were hung across the walls, along with some décor, all in the theme of leaves and flowers. Without much sun from the outside, the lights provided their artificial glow instead. "Roy doesn't eat well enough as it is, so he comes over often enough."
"Oh, trust me, I know plenty about that one," I said, throwing a look back to Mustang. He rolled his eyes at the both of us. "And when he does eat, it hardly passes as food." We'd known each other for two weeks on the dot, and the best quality food I'd seen him eat had come from the train.
"Right. Plus you're joining our chain of command in East City. That's plenty worth celebrating." What little serious tone he had shifted out, back to his wistful enthusiasm. "Besides, it'd be just cruel of me to keep Gracia's cooking to myself. Oh! Honey, our guests are here."
We stepped into the kitchen, the hardwood floor extending out past the stove and cabinets into a dining area. A table just large enough to accommodate the Hugheses and a few guests sat under the hanging light fixture. Pale blue china sparkled in the place settings. This really was too much for something as simple as passing an exam, but it wasn't like I could bail ship now. I'd at least be on my best behavior to thank the Hugheses for their courtesy.
Speaking of, Maes was so busy fussing over his wife by the sink that I couldn't even see her around him. I glanced to Mustang for guidance, but he just shrugged with a smile. This would be the norm then. After a few moments of the couple speaking amongst themselves, the woman spoke up. "Maes, dear, aren't you going to introduce me to our guest?"
"Right, yes." Maes cleared his throat and stepped aside, an arm tucked around his wife's shoulders. She looked just as she did in all the photos: short, sandy blonde hair, pear colored eyes, and a round, beautiful face. The biggest difference was the pregnancy bump at her stomach. I judged her somewhere in the early second trimester. "Like I said, this is my wife, Gracia. Honey, this is Ivy Caiman, as of today the Sickle Weasel Alchemist."
"It's nice to meet you," I said, offering my hand to shake.
"Likewise." Gracia's hands were smooth, but still bore a few nicks and scratches. I went full force on my grip out of habit, though it might have been overblown for a casual greeting. I was used to having to prove my character through a handshake, but Gracia let it slide, trading off pleasantries with Mustang. "There's still a few minutes until the potatoes come out of the oven, so you can make yourselves comfortable at the table if you like." I nodded and did just that, Mustang's steps following behind me. "Maes, would you get Hanna?"
I performed an about face so fast that I almost ran into Mustang's chest. My mouth flapped a few times, but no sound came out. I had expected to learn more about the women whose names Maes used as fodder against Mustang soon, since we'd be in a professional capacity together. Part of me had even considered asking Maes for more information, as he seemed the type to spill on his best friend's secrets if it was in good fun. But I hadn't even considered I'd be meeting one already, and not at the dinner at hand.
What, did he just think introducing me to his fling or whatever would be a good idea? Is this payback for me being snippy with him? For slipping up on my practical? What?
"Did you forget something in the car?" Mustang asked, raising an eyebrow down at me. Maes had trotted out of the room, and I held down my temper enough to not tear into him in front of Gracia. I knew where this guy slept, dammit, and a solid revenge could come later. But for the moment, I had to say something so he'd know I didn't appreciate his frivolous games. "I can go get it for you. The guest of honor should at least relax tonight."
I hissed, "If you wanted me to relax, you shouldn't have—"
"Come on," Maes's voice rolled in from the hallway, and I clamped my jaw shut hard enough I could feel the muscles tense in my neck. "She's a friend of mine and Roy's, so she's not scary at all. Besides, it's almost dinner time."
"Wait, Uncle Roy's here?" Small footsteps thundering sent vibrations all the way to my feet, and a redheaded blur slid across the floor before colliding with Mustang's leg. "You jerk, you went and left right after you got back. And then you didn't even come see me when you're home to stay." Mustang flinched as a small fist collided with the back of his knee. "What's the deal? You owe me ten day trips!"
Mustang groaned, extracting the form from his leg and planting her at a safe distance. He even kept a hand in her messy rolls of red hair to hold her in place. "That's not how you do math, let alone Equivalent Exchange," he said. "Now stop being rude and say hi to Caiman."
I blinked. The girl blinked, hazel eyes with specks of brown registering my presence. While it was nice to be taller than someone in the damn room for a change, it didn't count so much when the kid had to be around ten. She wore overalls, baring a few almost unperceivable stains around the cuffs, and freckles filled up every inch of her exposed skin. She looked me up and down once, then twice, and nodded.
"I'm Hanna Lockheed," she said, popping her fists to her hips. "You're the Ivy Uncle Maes has been talking about, right? Congrats on passing your State Alchemist exam."
"Thanks," I said, still trying to remember how my mouth worked.
"And if you ever drag Uncle Roy away from me again," Hanna continued, pointing an index finger right at me, "then we're going to have to fight. I won't lose!"
Come again?
I glanced to anyone in the room for support. Mustang sighed, Maes was still grinning, and Gracia stepped up as the voice of reason. "Hanna, you can't just go saying things like that to people you've just met." Hanna at least had the sense of mind to look abashed. "I'm sorry, Miss Caiman. She's my niece, and we look after her often. She's gotten rather attached to Maes and Roy."
I shook my head. "No, please, call me Ivy. I mean, I understand." Kind of. Not really. I had gotten worked up all over nothing—no, not nothing. There was still Riza to figure out. I coughed, trying to clear the tension. "I was kind of a handful when I was little." I didn't go challenging adults to fights, though. "You went through all the trouble of making dinner for us, so let's just enjoy our meal, shall we?"
With a little bit of coaxing, the party migrated over to the table. Maes and Gracia sat side by side, and Hanna insisted on taking the seat between her two "uncles." I didn't mind, sitting across from Gracia and out of arms reach of the little redhead I was certain had it out for me.
"You know," Mustang said at one point, "I was out recruiting someone else when I left the first time. Are you gonna try to fight him, too, when I escort him to take his exam?"
Hanna nodded, fork and knife firmly in hand. "I won't forgive him, either."
"Though speaking of the exam," Maes stepped in, not even looking the slightest bit concerned. Maybe if you were around Hanna enough, her actions stopped concerning you. Or maybe Maes was just that nice. "Ivy, I don't think I've seen your alchemy, though with a name like Sickle Weasel, I'm guessing it's weaponry." I nodded. "Well, I'm sure everyone will be glad to hear that at base. It's nice to have another combat specialist around with the crime rate going up and all."
"Maes, she'll learn about all that once she starts working." Funny how Gracia didn't even need to harden her voice, and Maes cut his line of conversation off. "Tonight's about celebration, so let's enjoy it, alright."
The sharp look Mustang sent to his friend suggested he agreed as well.
"You're gonna be a fighter?" Hanna asked, breaking away from her examination of a piece of squash skewered on the end of her fork.
"That's right," I said. Considering that's what I had shown off with, I didn't have much other choice. Still, I was sure I'd be given research time, too. There was a lot to look into while I finished my registration.
Hanna added a piece of zucchini to her small totem pole of vegetables. "Hmmm. I wanna see, then! Not right now, 'cause we're eating dinner, but I wanna watch you fight Uncle Roy."
"Hanna—" Mustang attempted.
"Actually," I said, smirking at the man beside me, "I was thinking the same thing."
[Author's Notes]
This chapter we finally get to see why the title is what it is. Of course, maybe I'm the only one who looks out for those sorts of things...
Thank go out to April Maciana and MiharuTousaka for the favorite and follow! Your support is much appreciated!
Aside from providing transition out of the State Alchemist Exam arc and into the next, this chapter finally brings Hanna into the fray. Much like Rito, Hanna was originally a borrowed character, but circumstances have made things complicated. Long story short, I tweaked a lot about Hanna's character concept and design and will essentially be putting her through new events to balance things out. In any event, she's made an excuse for Ivy to get that rematch she wanted, so look out for that!
I'm currently in the process of crossposting my works on AO3 - including this fic! If you prefer that platform, feel free to read it over there. The opportunity is yours for the taking~.
Next chapter, Ivy Caiman, Sickle Weasel Alchemist, gets started on military life. Please look forward to it!
-Avi
[08.05.2019]
