I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist or Naruto.

Chapter Three

The One Named 'Altar of the Sky'

…

Groggily rubbing his eyes, Roy sluggishly sat up on his bed and made his way to the room opposite to his. This was one of the rare times when his sister cried. It usually didn't end well either. The main reason she cried was usually because she was beginning to feel unwell, and sometimes she would end up with a fever in the middle of the night. The past few months were quite hectic due to the frequent trips in and out of the hospital for the continuous check-ups needed for his sister; she was born prematurely which inevitably led to the state of her weakened immune system and additional health concerns.

During the first month she was born, she spent most of the time laid in an incubator, and the doctors had concerns about her low birth weight of two-point-one kilograms. For two months, his sister stayed at the hospital for monitoring and to wait until her weight gain had reached to a slightly healthier level—only then were they given the possibility of letting her out of the hospital.

Quickening his pace, Roy hoped that there wasn't anything wrong with his sister and that it was just one of the few times when she just cried for comfort. However, when he reached over to the crib, he took one look at the feverish flush on his sister's face and knew that it was time to take another trip to the hospital. Gently, he lowered his arms and lifted his baby sister up to carry her.

"Shh, it's okay, Araceli. Your brother's here now," he whispered softly.

The name 'Araceli' was one of the choices his parents had thought of to name their child. If the child they were going to have was another boy, then they would have named him 'Luke'; a name with the meaning of light. But if it was a girl, they decided that they liked the name representing the altar of the sky, 'Araceli'. It wasn't a common name used in Amestris, and, in fact, it was a name from a foreign country, but it was the meaning that counted for them. In the end, it turned out to be a girl, and his dad had been able to gift the baby her name before he was… killed.

"Again?"

Hearing his aunt's voice, he turned towards the entrance to the room and spotted her leaning against the door frame. He nodded his head.

"Aa, she seems to have developed a fever over the night so we should take her to the hospital just to be safe."

"Come on then," his aunt said as she walked off back to her own room to change out of her nightwear and into her casual clothes.

For the time being, Roy placed his sister back into her crib so that he could also go change his clothes before going back and holding her in his arms again. He noticed that Araceli's breathing had gotten shallower and that she had stopped crying. His brows furrowed in concern; this particular episode of illness seemed to have been worse than the previous ones. Hurrying the pace of his strides, he caught up with his aunt, who was waiting at the front door, and they both fell into step with one another as they entered the car.

He wondered how long his sister would have to stay in the hospital for this time.

"How is she, Doctor Elaine?" Madame Christmas queried whilst she and Roy waited patiently as the doctor examined Araceli.

"Hmm, this is probably just another case of her weak immune system working up again. I don't see anything wrong other than the fact that she must have caught a cold and developed a fever. Though her temperature is very high. Higher than the previous times." Taking off her glasses, Doctor Elaine turned to the worried family members. "I'd recommend you allow her to stay overnight for a few days just in case. But other than that, I think she'll be fine," she smiled slightly to reassure them, and Roy's shoulders slumped a little in relief.

"I see. Thank you, Doctor." Madame Christmas said as she nodded her head in gratitude. Roy bowed his head slightly as well.

"It's my pleasure. No need to thank me. It's my job, after all." The doctor's smile widened a bit more, and she had a look of embarrassment on her face.

The door behind them clicked open and a nurse walked in.

"Ah, just the right timing, Alice. Would you mind leading the patient Araceli Mustang to the room for the young ones because she's staying overnight for supervision. The other two are her family so they'll be tagging along too."

The nurse nodded her head at Elaine and walked towards the sleeping baby, but Roy stepped in between them.

"It's ok. I'll carry her," Roy said, intercepting the nurse's path towards his younger sister. Almost protectively, he picked her up and carried Araceli safely in his arms. Roy nodded to the nurse, signalling her that it was alright for her to lead them.

Alice looked slightly surprised at the older brother's act but quickly shook it off by turning towards the door and making her way out. She paused briefly, waiting for the Mustangs to catch up, before carrying on along the hallway.

Sometimes when he was alone like this, he would sit down quietly in his room and just think. Think about the possible future. Think about the family he had. Think about his sister. They were all random. Some made him happy and some made him give a bittersweet smile. The topics were always random and something he would never consciously bring up to the forefront of his mind.

That's why he was slightly disgruntled, shocked and possibly angry—at himself—for thinking… thinking of who to blame for…

The images never left him—images of his parents that were still clear in his mind. It seemed like it was just yesterday when they were all together, sitting at the dining table talking, smiling and laughing as a family. Together.

It was to be expected after all. Only a little over five months had passed since the death of his mother, and then three months ago, his father was killed fulfilling his line of duty as a soldier of the country.

(Then, there was the funeral.)

But Roy had known—known that his father had not been sleeping well, or eating well, and that had affected his chances of survival drastically. Half of the time when Roy had talked to him, they were still mourning over the loss of Layla. His father was always looking far off into the distance, never paying much of an attention to his surroundings. Roy could see that his father was tired and filled with grief—that's what his eyes always seemed to display. He never really was ready or fit to go back to work so soon after something so painful had happened. But Roy also knew that his father needed something to keep his mind off of all the pain and grief and sadness and… and focusing all his time on work was the only way for him.

(Everyone needed their own way of an escape—from reality, responsibilities or themselves—no matter how cowardly it seemed.)

It was ironic that, in the end, his line of work did give him the closure he may have wanted—albeit in a morbid way.

And Roy couldn't help but think at the time that maybe if his mother hadn't died, then maybe his father would have lived also, and they would have all still been together. Then Roy wouldn't have lost anyone. If only Araceli Mustang hadn't been born; hadn't existed to begin wi—

He had cut that thought off immediately.

Dread filled the pit of his stomach, a feeling akin to suddenly being splashed with ice-cold water, whilst his face paled, and his mouth suddenly became dry. He shook his head vehemently as he clenched his fist and gritted his teeth. Not long after was it that he punched a nearby wall in an effort to extinguish his building feelings of frustration and anger. It didn't work.

He definitely couldn't carry on with that thought. The mere fact that he ever thought of blaming his sister (his sweet, innocent, barely more than five-months-old sister), even for a second, and condemning her to be held accountable for his parents' deaths, when it wasn't even her fault, made him feel disgusted with himself. Nor did the idea sit well with him. He could not—would not—carry on with such a thought. It could—would—easily become a dangerous path to proceed on, and he did not like where it had been precariously teetering on either.

This state of despair and slight desolation would have to stop. He needed it to stop before he did something he would regret later on. It wasn't his sister's fault that his—their parents died. It wasn't anyone's fault; at least not anyone close to him.

As for murderer of his father though, he would find him or her later. He would not outrightly seek vengeance (yet), but he wasn't above it. However, if he ever came across his father's killer, he would take it as a chance given to him and exact revenge on what the murderer deserved which would allow him a slight peace of mind.

And then the guilt came.

Ever since that treacherous thought of singling out his sister as the one to blame for all his sorrows, Roy could not face or look in his sister's direction without the pang of conscience and shame. He tried to keep his expression neutral as to not arise any questions on the way he was acting, but, without him knowing, someone had noticed.

Chris Mustang, also known as Madame Christmas, prided herself in her observational skills. How she could easily notice the slight changes in the behaviour of the people she knew was something that came almost naturally for her. After all, she hadn't been living a good few decades of her life to come out learning nothing. In her line of work (and to live in any world, really; it was better safe than sorry) it was a necessary ability a person definitely needed or to have developed to a certain extent.

She had noticed the hesitant looks Roy had casted towards his own baby sister—her niece. What suddenly brought on such a reaction from him, she didn't know and didn't particularly care to find out.

(Boys and their weird thought patterns, she thought whilst shaking her head).

But she supposed that as his now acting guardian, she did have the obligation to help fix any possible problems he could be having.

Really, what had she done to end up with having to become someone's babysitter for a few years?

She was definitely not the motherly type.

(But, for them, there was no one else left to rely on.

So she took on the role; she wasn't cruel enough to abandon a blood relative even if she thought of how tedious it was.)

"Are you thinking of something stupid, Roy-boy?" she asked with a slight gruff tone.

His head snapped up like a startled rabbit.

She gave a small huff. Did he really think she, a Mustang nonetheless, hadn't realised?

"I—Umm… Not particularly, aunt." He kept his eyes trained on the wall to his right—the exact opposite direction to where his aunt stood on his left.

Regarding him at the corner of her eyes, she stayed silent for a while before deciding to say anything. She knew he was lying. Sometimes Roy would call her either 'Madame Christmas' or 'aunt' (mostly 'Madame Christmas'), and she wouldn't have thought anything more of it if he called her 'aunt'. But the combination of the aversion of his eyes when calling her 'aunt' was enough of a sign to her that he had something on his mind. Not to forget to mention that he had also been acting weirdly for the past few days.

"Hmph. Well, I don't know what the problem is, but don't forget the fact that she's your sister—your younger sister. She'll rely and depend on you, whether you want her to or not, and look at you as a role model. So don't make that kind of face in front of her—like looking at her pains you. How do you think she'll feel when, every time she sees you, that's the only face her brother can make in front of her?"

She narrowed her eyes challengingly. "You're a man, right? Stop hesitating, and get your act together. You're a big brother now, and you have a younger sibling to look after. It's not just you anymore."

His head lowered in shame, and the guilt became more prominent in his features before something suddenly lit up within his eyes, and his posture straightened with his head raised high.

"Aa," he nodded and turned to face his aunt. "Thank you, aunt."

(This time he was looking at her—properly and unhesitatingly facing forward.

And, in that moment, her chest swelled with a rarely seen pride for the boy.)

She huffed and turned her head away.

(He noticed that there was a slight upturn at the corner of her lips though, and he too smiled, feeling a lot lighter.)

...

A/N:

There's definitely something I really dislike about this chapter... but I can't be bothered re-writing it. Meh, maybe one day in the future. But for now, I really want to get into the main part of the story as quick as possible because I really don't like writing the beginning of a story. It's boring and dull most of the time, and I just want to get to the juicy parts of the story, but unfortunately it's necessary.

And well, there we go... Now I'm really off to bed. Hopefully, I'll be able to get fresh content out for this fanfic soon. Need to start re-watching FMA Brotherhood for the third time xD Time to hit the nostalgia train. Good night, peeps.