Kamaitachi Chronicles

By: Aviantei

Seventeen


I could spend the rest of my life in here, and I think I would die happy.

As promised, Rosomak has given me access to some of his research materials—the whole point for this vacation. Yes, I could have had him just send me the notes or straight ship me the stuff, but both of those options have annoying time and expenses involved. For the sake of convenience, I have no issues of being there in person, especially since it gets me first-hand access to picking Rosomak's brain if necessary.

Being chained to the military sure does suck, but having access to this level of research is honestly starting to make putting up with Mustang seem like it's worth it.

Maybe I wasn't wholly in my right mind when I thought that, but having the opportunity to break new ground could do that to a person. Thanks to Rosomak's contributions, I could play around with seeing if any materials felt right for rehauling my scythe. The challenge was in that I didn't want to make the weapon too light, since that could upset how much force I could put into my swings, but I also didn't want to make it unwieldy, either. And, as Rosomak had said during his initial assessment, making the capsule too heavy was a disadvantage all on its own.

A thought that was a little bit more in the back of my mind than it probably should have been.

"Oooh, I really like the way the aluminum balances out with the nickel in this one. It's really interesting to think about the deeper structures going on there."

"Ah, yes, I'm particularly proud of that one. Sometimes it's fun to just try out different percentages of metals at random and see what the results are."

"I'm pretty sure a lot of other leading alchemists would be appalled to hear that your research has gotten to its current point thanks in no small part to arbitrary decisions."

"The word you're looking for is creativity. And that, Major Caiman, is what separates those who will move forward in leaps and bounds from those that will only move along at a determined pace. Now, if you'll look at this option, you'll see that I refined the titanium so that…"

What had to be at least an hour since I'd entered the materials room, Rosomak and I were still working our way through what he had in store. Whenever he'd written to me that he'd taken the time here and there to build experimental compounds for me to potentially use in my scythe, I'd thought there would be maybe a dozen or so to work with. What he did have in store for me was at least triple that amount, all of them with handwritten notecards that indicated the material composition along with any particular transmutation quirks. And while he could have just left me to my own devices, we'd spent the whole time going over them together and sharing our thoughts. The ability of alchemy to easily create and test new compounds in a way that standard manufacturing couldn't was just amazing.

"Hm, these structural notes look like they might work out better for the blades," I said, skimming over the next notecard before me, "but I think I would prefer to have a different structure for the handle. Of course, that's going to mean adjusting my circles to account better for the different components to get the best results, but that's definitely doable once I know what I'm working with."

Rosomak nodded, stepping away to pick up another hunk of metal and its corresponding card. "Ah, I had a similar thought, so I actually refined this one based on that concept." Though the rough material was near indistinguishable from the one sitting on the table before me, the slightest mineral tweaks could make all the difference, especially when calculating a successful transmutation to the fullest effect. "And then after that, I'm afraid I went a bit overboard and built some other combinations I think might serve you well, especially if you were planning on working with those dual blades that you showed off during your practical examination."

The memory of my personal slipup made me grimace; a bit cowed from the experience, I'd set the idea aside for the time being. "Maybe later on. I'd rather get the base model down first." Doing anything else out of order would be like trying to put a fresh paint of coat on a motorcar when the engine was too busted to operate.

"A fair point, Major Caiman. In that case then, may I suggest—"

I never got to hear what Rosomak was planning to suggest, as the door to the storage room we were in banged open with enough force to cause the closest shelves and their contents to rattle. My hand intentionally slapped to my capsule in my pocket while my brain raced through worst case scenario situations. Rito and Hawkeye's lessons in crisis management drills echoed in my mind, and I set about assessing the intruder as quickly as possible.

My eyes darted over our new visitor, and it didn't take long to realize he wasn't holding anything close to a weapon. In fact, the most intimidating thing about him was his freckled face, settled into one of those "I'm-smiling-but-that-doesn't-fully-conceal-my-annoyance" looks. Red hair a few shades more orange than Hanna's somewhat frizzed out, partway clashing with the bright colors of his civilian clothes. Even with all that information, though, I still didn't feel like I had a firm grasp on the situation. And then the redhead opened his mouth.

"Theeereee you aaareee, Eeeliii—"

Eli, meaning Rosomak, meaning this man was here to see my research benefactor—a benefactor who had decided to temporarily use me and the table we'd been reviewing materials on as temporary shields. Rosomak may have been a bit older than Mustang and nowhere near as bulky as someone like Major Armstrong, but he had such a usual pride in his posture that it was downright disorienting to see him cower a bit.

"Dooo you have aaany ideaaa how long I've been loooooking for you, Eliii—?"

Is…is this a situation where I should step in or not…?

"C-Connor," Rosomak said, a discernable tremble in his voice. Ah, that filled in the blanks. From the letters Rosomak had sent, I'd learned that Connor was his current live-in partner. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. You see, like I mentioned, Major Caiman was coming to visit today, and we happened to get a little caught up in what we were doing, you see."

"Is that sooo?" Connor's imposing smile didn't falter a bit, and I worked on subtly getting out of the way. "I'm pretty sure that most people would define 'getting a little caught up' in something as losing track for, say, ten to thirty minutes." In the small space, each step forward seemed much louder than necessary, or maybe that was my secondhand adrenaline rush kicking in. "Now, something like three hours late, even though you promised to be home on time—I wonder what a reasonable person might call that, Eli?"

From the sidelines, I had an unfairly good spectator's view of Rosomak's blood draining from his already pale face. "W-well, Connor, dear, I think since you're the one who teaches language and composition, you'd have much better idea; I mean, most of my knowledge is in alchemical jargon, you know—"

"Ah, yes, how could I forget? Then allow me to call it being greatly irreseponsible."

Given with the context I was getting, Rosomak probably did deserve the criticism, but it was still a bit disheartening to watch one of my alchemical idols be on the receiving end of a large pile of scolding. Maybe I should just head back to my hotel for the evening. If Rosomak's really late by three hours, then I'm definitely due for some dinner…

I tried to make an exit in the middle of the commotion (it was impressive how long Connor could maintain a lecture without taking a single breath) but had two pairs of eyes turn on me. Rosomak didn't seem like he could decide whether to feel offended or understanding of the fact that I was trying to escape, while Connor's terrifying smile shifted into something a bit more genuine.

"Ah, you must be the young Major Caiman that I've heard so much about," Connor said, as if he'd never emerged like some sort of demonic force to scold his partner. I nodded as he offered a hand to shake. "It's nice to meet you in person; I'm Connor Rosomak. I apologize for you having to put up with Eli's crummy handwriting in all those letters and his awful work habits."

I took the handshake, getting back a slightly stronger grip than I expected. "You really don't need to apologize for any of that." After all, I'd take Rosomak's somewhat messy script than Mustang's ridiculous chicken scratch any day.

"Besides," Rosomak said, having recovered some of his dignity, "it's not as if I was forcing Major Caiman to stay around in the office with me. She did so of her own free volition." I nodded in confirmation, wondering if maybe that would maybe spare Rosomak in the slightest.

The frown forming on Connor's face didn't seem all that promising, and he raised his finger in a prime lecture position. "Be that as it may, you're the adult here, Eli. You need to set a better example for the youth, you know."

I'd straightened my posture and puffed out my chest before I could even think to do otherwise. "Hey. I know I'm not as old as most people in my field, but the fact that I made it as the youngest state alchemist in history should say something. I also have the all-time record for the practical exam, too."

I was following Rito's instructions on how to project my presence to seem bigger than I was (the lessons' intent had been to help me look more imposing in combat if necessary, but whatever), but Connor let out a hearty laugh and patted my arm. "I promise I'm not looking down on you, Major Caiman. But what I am doing is trying to help you form good habits while you're still at an impressionable age so that you don't end up like this research-obsessed man over here." Connor leaned a bit closer to me and jabbed a thumb at Rosomak, saying in a stage whisper, "I've been trying to break his bad habits ever since we've gotten together, and I haven't made any progress. Save yourself the trouble now, Major."

"I can hear you, you know," Rosomak said, bristling a bit. The twitch at the corner of his lips gave away his amusement, though. "You wanted me home for dinner, I presume? Every moment we're here is just dragging that out longer, then. I'll go get my coat and we can head out, then."

Connor grinned after Rosomak's back as he headed for the door. "Much appreciated, dear," Connor said, even as Rosomak retreated around the corner. Only once he was out of sight did Connor look to me again. "I should count myself lucky that he even makes it home from the lab some nights, I suppose. Well, would you like to come along, Major Caiman? I know you said it wasn't his fault, but I'd still like to show some hospitality while you're in town." Connor waggled his eyebrows at me. "Eli's really been enjoying having a new mind to pick about alchemy theories and stuff. And since you make him happy, I'd be glad to offer you a meal."

I blinked, taking a moment to replay the words in my mind so I could process them properly. While I didn't doubt that Rosomak did enjoy discussing what essentially amounted to his life's work with me, some part of my brain assumed he'd been humoring me with his correspondence and help. I forced my thoughts to focus back on the present. "If you're sure I wouldn't impose…"

"Nonsense, we love having company over." While it was more subtle than Maes's unbridling enthusiasm, Connor had a warm welcoming atmosphere that I had a hard time resisting. Following some sixth sense that recognized my waning willpower, Connor gave me an encouraging pat on the back. "I'm gonna go make sure Eli's not getting caught up in some side project or whatever. Why don't you grab whatever you brought in with you and meet us up by the door? Heeey, Eliii!"

Connor whipped out of the room in a flash after Rosomak, leaving me with a strange sort of fatigue settling in. I did need a mental break from all the alchemy tweaking I'd been doing all day, though, plus my stomach was starting to ache with hunger. No need to argue with something as clear and straightforward as that.

"Well," I said under my breath, stretching some of the kinks out from my shoulders, "let it never be said that I turn down free food when its offered."

And doublechecking that I had my original scythe capsule with me and that I hadn't left anything else important behind, I followed in Connor's wake.


Dinner at the Rosomaks' home was a nice affair. It was also becoming a regular affair, wholly through Connor's insistence. It seemed that having my presence in the lab was enough for Rosomak to easily lose track of time (something I was just as guilty at doing), so Connor took it on himself to make sure we vacated the laboratory at what most people would call a decent hour and at least get a little bit of fresh air in the process. While Connor was energetic, he also knew how to handle introverts pretty well thanks to his partner, so meals tended to be a relaxed affair.

Plus it was nice to have another source for home cooking aside from Gracia's hard work. Made being away from my base of operations feel—well, feel almost a little bit more like home.

Even with a reduced working day imposed on us, I still managed to make some good progress. I'd completed an assessment of the major metal compounds that Rosomak had prepared flor me, and I'd even selected a few to consider doing actual transmutation and combat tests on. Getting to that stage had been my main goal, and I'd completed it a bit sooner than planned, so I gave myself permission to take an actual vacation the last few days of my stint in Central and just relax until it was time to take the train home.

And so, with several trips to the library, the occasional drop in with Rosomak, and the near now required dinners as proposed by Connor, time moved forward peacefully and leisurely.

That was, of course, until everything blew up.


[Author's Notes]

No, that last line is not a metaphor.

Thanks to microborhaga98 and Stranger9 for the story favorites! Take this anniversary chapter and enjoy! I'd love to hear your thoughts, y'all.

I don't have too much other commentary, but I do recommend that you go and check out the [Twelve Shots of Summer] community, as it's posting season atm. Who knows? Maybe you'll like a prompt and feel like writing something yourself.

Next time: Things go boom. Please look forward to it!

-Avi

[06.06.2022]