I don't own FMA.
And I hate this chapter.
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Excerpt from the Journal of Jean Havoc
"So..." I said nodding at the girl. She had taken seat in Roy's chair and started spinning. Apparently, she was very immature.
"So..." she copied me. She spun in the chair faster before bringing her self to a complete stop. "Oh man. It's all spinning."
"Uh, yeah. Th-that's what happens... So, what's your name?"
"Miru Costire." She started spinning again.
"Oh, I'm Jean Havoc..." I paused, unsure where to take the very quiet conversation, "So, where are you from?"
"Rockwell." She stopped herself and looked up.
"And how old are you?"
"Why are you so interested?" She raised her eyebrows at me and I found myself looking away.
'Okay, so yeah. She's cute. Really cute. Really immature, which makes her even cuter. Meaning that if I have to interrogate this girl, I'm screwed.'
"No reason." I said scratching behind my head and laughing nervously.
"Uh huh... I make you nervous. N-n-n-nervous." She said in a song-type voice.
"No, you don't."
I lied. She did. And did a damn good job of it. I don't know why. I'd known her all of 10-20 minutes, but she did. There was an awkward silence, and then gun shots coming from the hallway.
My first instinct was to jump under the desk because Hawkeye was coming. Her first instinct was to stand up and start saying loudly, "Hey, Havoc! What was that? It was a gun, right? Cool. I've-"
I capped my hand over her mouth and pulled her down, "Look. You may not be here long, but just so you know. When Riza starts shooting, get the hell down, if you care about your life that is."
"Uh huh. I'll get used to that one." She nodded up at me, "What can't get used to, on the other hand, is you smashing my pelvic bone, 'cause it sorta hurts."
I didn't even realize that I still had my arm wrapped around her waist from when I originally pulled her under the desk to get her away from stray bullets. "Oh... You can get used to this. I can."
She blew stray strands of hair from her face and looked at me in sheer annoyance, "I could..." 'Oh, yeah. She wants me. I am too easily influenced by Roy...' "If I could breath! But I can't! So get off!"
"Hmm. That could be a problem." I said, nodding my head. This girl just seemed like one of those girls whose nerves I can get on pretty easily.
"Jeeean, pllllease?" she said pouting. "This is really hard to do without oxygen."
There was someone laughing, "I think I heard all I need to hear. Having fun down there, Havoc?"
'Dear God, Roy is the only one who can catch me in these situations...Well and Hawkeye. But she doesn't count. They're one.' "It's not what you think, Mustang." I said pulling my head up over the desk. "We were merely hiding from the wrath of your angry girlfriend back there." I pulled my head back under the table just in time to miss my ear getting shot off. "I told you!" I said to the light purple-haired girl beside me. She was giggling, hysterically.
"How do you know what I'm thinking? What if I was thinking that the two of you were merely having a nice conversation, and Miru, being the person she is, fell out of my, as she calls it, 'spinny' chair?" He crossed his arms and looked down at the two of us, a playful sneer on his face.
"Because you're a pervert, Roy-kun. And perverts don't think like that. Oh no, you thought something more along the lines of Havoc and I were naked and-" Roy capped his hands over the girl's mouth, and shook his head.
"Miru?" Hawkeye said tapping her foot. Aa yeah, she was pissed.
"Roy-kun? Really? Aw, that's so cute. I'm gonna use it, Roy-kun." I was obviously more amused than she was.
"It's not what you think. Miru is my ex-partner." He attempted to explain over the muffled ramblings of the girl.
"What kind of partner? Like partner, like a work partner. Or 'Partner'." I said adding air quotes to the second one.
He looked at me as if I was a complete idiot. A look of sickness crossed his face, before he pulled his hand from her mouth, and looked back and forth between her and his hand. "That was disgusting beyond belief, Miru." He reached inside his jacket, and from the palms of nothingness, pulled out a handkerchief.
"Should've let go of my mouth. I thought you would have learned by now, damn it! And you still taste weird!" She licked her shirt as if wanting to get the taste of Roy out of her mouth.
Riza looked at the girl for a few seconds, "I remember you now. You were the-" She snapped her fingers for a few seconds, "head interrogation specialist, right? Mastered every aspect of the human psychiatric. Quite famous around here, Isolation. And then you quit."
"Oh! I'm remembered! I feel loved."
"Wait. Why couldn't you still be an alchemist? I could sleep with you and get a higher ranking." I whined.
"You could sleep with Roy and get a higher ranking." She put her hand on the side of her mouth that Roy was on and whispered to me, "He likes to sleep around with the wrong team if you know what I mean." She turned to Hawkeye, "It's okay. He's cheating on you with Hagane. Don't worry. He's not as pretty as you. He does have that really hot metal arm though. Maybe you should watch out. You have a gun, right? Yeah, you're set."
By this point in time, I was doubled over laughing. She was really calling Roy Mustang gay right in front of his face. Sure... Breda and I had called him gay with his back turned, but we were (mostly) just kidding.
"I AM NOT GAY! I DID NOT SLEEP WITH HUGHES!!!! DAMN IT! I'm going to murder you and stuff your body in the sewer, Costire." He yelled.
"Uh huh. And you and Maes coming out of that room together at the same time, both looking extremely 'shaken', mind you, that was a coincidence, right? Uh huh! That doesn't prove anything! Coughgaycough. Cough." Yes. I was amazed. She actually said the word cough.
"There was an earthquake!!" he shouted again.
"That did look really suspicious, Roy. She has a point." Riza smiled, almost laughing at the flustered man.
"I slept with you yesterday!" he shouted at her. Riza's face immediately flushed bright red.
"Oh my god, Riza's a man!" She gasped. "It all makes sense, now!" Miru saw the look on Hawkeye's face. "I was kidding! I was kidding! You're a very pretty girl, Riza! Woman! I mean, woman! He's bi, okay? He's bi! You're still a woman. Don't shoot me, please." She was bowing at the blond haired woman's feet.
I was sitting in the chair, trying to cover my face from getting hit again by Roy. I could not help but laugh. This girl. She was my dream girl! Perfection! I loved that. "Miru, I love you. Marry me." I said laughing. She was too busy laughing at Roy, who was attempting to start a flame without his gloves on, to even notice. 'I'm going to marry that girl one day.'
"Hey! You're the one who was sleeping with an 11-year-old little boy, Roy! They still believe in cooties back then you know!"
He paused from his attempts at strangling her, "Isn't Fullmetal 17?"
"Damn you Roy! How many 12-year-olds must you partake?! You like them young, don't you, Michael?!"
He glared at her and started to say "I will no-"
The door suddenly slammed open, "C-C-Colonel, sir!" Breda saluted quickly, "S-S-Scar has been sighted outside of the c-city, sir!"
"I told you! Now give me my Kris!" She said another pouting look crossed her face. An almost pained expression crossed Roy's. At this point I felt a little awkward and decided to take my leave.
Journal of Kristoph Mistan
I couldn't quite recall how long that I'd been in there. I didn't care. I should have gone back to prevent what was going to happen soon after. I fucked up bad. But that is a different story for a different time.
I couldn't help but think about how things had changed over the years...and yet it was nothing at all, really.
The feelings of hurt, betrayal, sadness... Those feelings had yet to leave my core. The hatred had, believe it or not. After blaming everything on me for so many years, it didn't seem as if it was supposed to be anyone else's problem. It was hard pretending. Pretending that I was something I wasn't. Pretending that everything was fine. Smiling through my tears. All of it was a lie, wasn't it- isn't it?
"What's your name, really?" The voice that I had come to know asked. It was quiet, almost like it wasn't even there. Echoing something that once was.
"Scar." I said quietly. He was persistent, never saying a harsh word or yelling like most. Just quietly persistent.
"I won't tell anyone, not even ani. I swear. You're not Scar, though. I know that much."
"Nan desu ka [what is it? Why do you care?" I muttered. No one since I'd left Ishbal, not one single person had taken the last piece of interest in me, or even pretended to for a second. And here where I was soon to be killed, this boy in a metal suit took all the interest in the world. I didn't understand it.
"Be-because, if you're going to be punished, why would it not be for your own sin? Why have it be for someone else's?"
I looked over at him. He seemed so young, so innocent. Had he really seen the evils this world had to offer? He didn't act like it. It was odd how mature he seemed at such a young age.
He made a noise that sounded like his words had been caught in his throat. He wanted to say something, I could almost tell by the way that he was shifting and turning his face away. When he hit against the chair, it echoed. It was hallow in there. There was nothing. I had thought that from the first time I'd seen him.
"I had a name once. My sin killed it. I'm serving my time for my crimes." I was really turning into Scar. Everyone telling me that I was, talking to me like I was an uncommon criminal, it was turning me into that.
My heart ached for the way it was before, even when I was unseen and left behind scenes but I wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize my chances for starting over again. For cleaning my slate.
"You aren't Scar. You can't be. You may try, but you act nothing like him, at least to me... Please, I just want to know your name."
There was a long silence. I was tempted to not respond, why be so dumb as to tell him who I really was? But I gave in soon... "Alphonse Elric, my name is Kristoph Mistan. Pleased to meet you." I stared up at the ceiling. Never had I expected to actually succeed in befriending an Elric.
"N-nice to meet you, Kristoph." He said quietly, stuttering on the first word. "...Nice to meet you, too..."
I was silent for a while.
I don't know. Being in this room really did change me. Seeing nothing but these four-walls contained me more than anything else could attempt to. I would rather have had my father's constricting grasp again than have to spend another day in here. But, I would wait a hundred years to leave, if that was all it took to forget.
Journal of Alphonse Elric
I looked at him. 'I knew it! I knew that he wasn't Scar! He looks like him a little, but there was no way that it could really be him. So, who is this Kristoph Mistan, then?'
I continued to look at him, confused.
He was on his side, staring at the wall. Little did he know, I knew exactly how he was feeling. Like there was no one really there that understood, because they had never been in the same situation. They said that they understood, but they really had no idea what it was like to not be able to feel. I knew. I was right there with him.
When he first came here, I knew it couldn't be Scar. But who would believe me? A teenaged boy in a suit of armor? No one. But that was fine by me. I was thinking that something was wrong with me. If nothing else, despite all the mistakes the military had made, they could at least capture the right person, right?
Wrong.
The more I watched him, the more that I realized that no, this wasn't Scar. And no, there was no way that this person would be capable of killing a single person. He was much too kind-hearted for that. Not that I thought that Scar would have killed all those people if he had a choice in the matter.
But why is what I couldn't figure out.
Why was he doing a prison sentence for someone else? Because they look alike? Because they have something in common? If they're related... then... That would explain why the appearance. But how? He would have mentioned it at least once. He told me about his brother but why no one else? Did he want to protect them?
It's possible. I mean Scar is one of the most wanted people in the country... If he didn't tell me because he was afraid that I'd slip up and tell someone about who ever it was... If he just wanted to keep them safe, then that was okay. That was fine. I'd lie about Brother if it was to keep him safe.
Then why? Why would, if I was right and Scar had lied all about him to keep him safe, then why would Kristoph turn himself in? From the way that I had been told about it from Ed, it was like he didn't even try. He gave Colonel Mustang, Brigadier General Armstrong, and Major Havoc quite a chase. They almost thought that he had gotten away, until they found him in one of the alleyways with most of the bones in his body broken. He could have gotten away, but he fell. It was almost like he wanted to get caught...
The door always creaked when it was opened.
Colonel Roy Mustang was standing at the door. He looked extremely crestfallen, almost as if someone had just-
"Colonel, what happened?" I asked. I'd forgotten that I wasn't supposed to be in there.
"Alphonse? What are you doing here?" He said looking at me with an eyebrow rose.
"Umm..." I looked around, "Nothing. I was j-just leaving." I attempted to walk through the door but ran into something/someone.
"Owwwwww..." a girl's voice said, "Oww..." She looked up at me with big violet eyes as if she was going to cry. "Owwww."
"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to! I didn't hurt you, did I?" I said waving my hands in front of me, "Don't cry, please!"
"No. I'm not. Just wanted to make you feel bad. What's your name, Bucket?" She said standing up and smiling like it was nothing.
"A-actually my name is Alphonse Elric." I said taking a step back. She was scary.
"Oh my god, Alphonso. It's a Mexican bucket."
I had no response. She was insane, I was guessing. And I was right.
"Tell me. Tell me what am I saying, 'Hola, el cubo de Mexicano.' What did I say?"
"E-excuse me. I'm going to go find Edward." I said attempting to slip away.
"I'll go find Hagane." She said excitedly.
"NO! I mean... d-don't you think that you should stay here with Colonel Mustang? He could probably use your help a lot more than I could. I'm pretty sure I know where Ed is."
"Nope. I'm following you." She said and I was stuck with her, because she wasn't leaving anytime soon.
Journal of Kristoph Mistan
This man just stood there, staring at me. I don't know if this was good, but since the Gods were rarely on my side I could come to believe it wasn't. They were more than likely going to have me go down to the field where they were going to shoot me until I died. Just my luck.
He didn't seem incredibly happy though. A little grave actually. Maybe I wasn't going to die today. Maybe tomorrow.
That loud girl, who was probably older than me, left with Alphonse. The man took a seat. I don't know why but he would not stop staring at me, as if he was trying to make sense of some sort of mystery.
'Good luck with that one, buddy boy. It's going to take you awhile to figure me out.' I thought.
"Why'd you lie?" He said very simply. His voice was calm, he didn't have on his gloves, and I was hoping he didn't have a gun. I'd be safe if he didn't, right? I knew better than that. Don't trust the military, I learned that when I was young. So, I was going to sit here and look at a wall until he left.
Around an hour later, I realized he wasn't going to.
I was screwed.
'If he knows who I am, they're going to really put me in jail for lying to an officer, and then no amount of bargains with homunculi is going to get me out of it. Unless it's the Furor, of course. I'm fine, then. What are they going to do? Especially this guy? I bring up the name Rison Asumuri and he wants to cry. If he brings in that 'Hawkeye' woman, I'm dead, 'cause she'll shoot me, 'cause she does not like me. She wants me dead hence the killing part.'
"Listen, Kris- what ever the hell your name is - we just want to know why. Why you, a young man- you can't be more than like twenty, right? - would willingly waste five months in jail, when you have done, seemingly, nothing wrong? Explain this to me because I'm baffled." He had taken a seat in the chair that Al was in no less than two hours earlier. I personally preferred Al. This man made me feel out of place for reasons more than one. And I said nothing about anything.
I think this made him mad because instants later he had the nerve to get literally five centimeters away from my face (for those of you who don't know the metric system two inches). He invaded my personal space so I had to fuck with his head.
Big time.
"What, Mustang? What? You remember, don't you? Allow me to refresh your memory for you then. First day of the war in Ishbal. Two little boys outside of one of their houses. Shot the blue eyed one straight between the eyes. What did you pitch that memory? What about the day that you murdered two of your best friends? Bet you didn't forget that one, did you?" These words plus a very, very maliciously calm, tone, allowed him to nearly lose his temper. As I said, nearly.
He backed up a small amount. Adjusting his gaze, he scanned me over once again. This was getting creepy. He grabbed my chin between his thumb and middle fingers. He turned my head and scanned the sides, more than likely looking at the thick black lines that covered the sides of my face.
Normally personal space was more than mandatory, and this was bothering me to no end. I simply did not like being touched and he was touching indeed. But I was willing to make due with my limited self-space if he would show some sort of remorse. Some sort of apology. It wouldn't ever make up for it, nothing could ever make up for what he did, but this could be a start... I just needed there to be a start. I needed there to be something.
"You are that kid." He was hardly whispering. "You are. That little boy that became my conscience... You didn't die back then? Really? Every time I saw you, you seemed as if you were on the brink between here and there... Death always seemed to be lagging at your heels. I'd suppose that I should apologize, but it's not really going to make up for it, is it? It'd be a waste of breath because you would never in a million years be able to forgive me, would you?"
I couldn't do anything, but glare at him. I wanted to say something that would cause him to breakdown, for something to happen and for him to not be okay after words.
I-I couldn't. Is it my fault that as much as in previous years I hated- more than hated - I wanted this man to die, to lay scorn in the lands of Hell. And now when I was finally getting the chance to say what I wanted to say, to feed to him words that had been bonded to my soul by fire and brimstone, I couldn't even utter one.
I couldn't allow for one harsh, foul sounding, ill-resonance of words be heard? The one time that I got the chance and it to be okay because this man had ruined my life, that one bullet wound had killed everything that I that I liked about who I was, leaving only this soft-spoken, nice little person in its place. I couldn't find it in myself to say a word?
This was fair?
That my conscience had greater power than my mouth for this one time?
Was it fair?
No. No, it's not. It wasn't.
But I couldn't bring myself to say a foul word to him. Was it that look in his eye?
He let go of my chin and sighed, "Listen, Kristoph. You're free to go, but you can not leave the city boundaries because I believe that we're going to need to talk to you again." He looked away for a while, and then turned back to me. "We will be paying for your food, clothing, housing, anything else that you might need."
"What? No." I said, bluntly. 'Damn. They are really trying to release me. I am not being released, nope. They want me to die, but not directly from them because they'll look like bad people. So they're going to let me go, so I killed by Scar. Or the homoculi. Or some partially insane Ishballians. Like I'm even safe for one. And two, what better thing do I have to do than waste away in here? Absolutely nothing.'
"What are you answering no to? Unless you have somewhere else around the city within boundaries and legal, I don't see how you are going to survive." He said resting his hands on his own chin.
"No, not that one. I'm not leaving."
"What? Are you insane? We can't keep you here. You are innocent. What part of that seems to be so difficult for you to comprehend?" He cupped his hands over his face and muttered, "Children."
"Well, I'm not a child, and I'm not leaving."
"Really?" He looked at me as if I was an idiot. I knew that feeling.
"Yeah. Really."
He shrugged and said, "Have it your way." And he left the room.
'That was easy enough.' I sat back on the bed, looking at the door. 'Too easy. Nothing is ever this simple. He's up to something.'