B B BB RBR UH
I TOOK A REALLY LONG TIME WH O OPS
But anyway! I'm hoping to get back on track! This whole school thing is getting in the way, though... But nobody wants to hear about the dramas of a 15yo anime loser in that little blob Australia, right? XD
So here! The chapter! I hope if anyone's still here, they will enjoy. /bows
((PS, I'm editing all the old chapters too. Nothing too major though, just a bit of a touch-up.))
It was coming up to evening as the towering citadel of Grand Central came into view. Edward was glad to be the one who hadn't drifted to sleep this time – he wouldn't admit that it gave him a sense of achievement of sorts.
Central wasn't one of his favourite places in Amestris, but he didn't hate it. It was something of a mixed opinion. He didn't really like the clogged city streets and sooty air, nor was he particularly fond of the sprawling Central Headquarters. Other cities in Amestris were somewhat higgledy-piggledy and had crooked buildings with pipes twisting left and right, with personality. Central almost seemed too grey and organised next to them. On the other hand, he knew a few nice people that lived there, with whom he had fond memories. Some parts of the city he liked, but not enough to balance out how unfamiliar it seemed to him.
Roy seemed to sense they were drawing close to his old base of operations and began to rouse, first untangling himself from his trench coat before yawning loudly. "Nice. Back in smoggy old Central."
"The north air was a clean break, I suppose," mused Edward, gathering his belongings from around the compartment. As the train drew into the gargantuan station of the capital, they stretched and stood up. The others on board the train looked to be doing the same.
Looking around, Roy felt his confidence levels begin to rise. The types of events that had been described for the Central leg of the tournament fit nicely into his range of strengths and interests. Based on what he knew of the other contestants, there wasn't much of a threat from many of them, least of all the rough and tough westerners.
The northerners had been trained for practicality as opposed to dignity, the team from Avonum were a little bit too unrefined, the Oratoans were too carefree and although Amory and his father posed a mild threat, Roy was confident they wouldn't be too hard to show up. There was a bit of a threat from the Central team, who were much used to this kind of thing, but their flattery became annoying after a while. That left Kambei. General Kamagawa would be a tough opponent, but there was a large chance that Inuya would make a cultural faux pas.
All Roy could do was hope Edward wouldn't do the same.
"I'm just glad to be out of those dorm rooms, you know?" said Edward as the party of competitors made their way off the platforms and further into Central Station.
"It feels like by saying that, you're going to jinx us," replied Roy. "Aside from that thought, I could swear there was meant to be an escort here for us."
"EDWARD ELRIC! COLONEL ROY MUSTANG! IT'S BEEN FAR TOO LONG!"
"Ah." Roy blinked once. "That'll be him."
"Nope." Edward dropped his suitcase at his feet and turned on his heel, ready to sprint back into the platforms. Before he could make a move, Roy's arm shot out and caught him.
"Don't think so," he said and whirled Edward out in front of him like the world's loudest (and possibly smallest) human shield.
The hulking mass of muscle known as Major Alex Louis Armstrong burst out of the crowd and out of his shirt before the milling competitors, his booming voice attracting puzzled gazes from all around.
It wasn't long before Edward was fully enveloped in the muscular mass, with a single metal finger protruding and wriggling in a pathetic beckon for assistance.
There was a quiet wheeze as Armstrong finally released his captive and moved towards Roy. Now he seemed to realise he was in the company of various others and whipped his uniform back on with a salute in one continuous motion.
The westerners seemed vaguely impressed, but Inuya's sister Usagi just looked terrified.
"Sirs!" the major addressed them, moustache ever trimmed. "Major Alex Louis Armstrong, at your service!"
Theodore and Aidan, the Central team, grimaced. Roy figured there was no way they'd served in Central Headquarters without getting at least a little acquainted with the eccentric major.
"Huge!" squeaked Felix, and Armstrong laughed heartily.
"Indeed! Eat up all your greens and one day you too may grow to such an impressive muscularity!"
Armstrong gave another bellowing laugh before explaining that the Fuhrer's train would be arriving a little later that night, so they all had the opportunity to take it easy for the evening. Several MP driven cars delivered them to their accommodations, and Roy almost cried out of relief that they were nothing like North HQ.
Edward began to unpack his meagre belongings as Roy looked around the small two-bedroom hotel room. The style was much to his taste – fancy, comfortable and definitely something he could get used to if he ever had the money to spend on upgrades like that.
"Do you have our toiletry bag, Ed?" he called, poking his head around the bathroom door.
"Yeah!" Edward's reply floated down the corridor and a moment later he appeared himself to lob the small bag at Roy and disappear again. Roy grabbed the bag as the teen continued, "I'm going to go down to the lobby and phone Al. I shouldn't be too long."
"Alright then," answered Roy, digging through his bag for a clean shirt. "Tell him I was asking about him. And pass on a greeting to Lieutenant Hawkeye as well."
"No problem."
The door clicked, indicating Edward's departure.
Roy sighed to himself, alone for what felt like the first time in weeks. It felt a little eerie to be standing around in complete silence when so much of his time had been filled with Edward's loud voice and the general hubbub of the other soldiers in the dorm up north.
Perhaps making the soldiers live like that had its merits. It did work wonders for team morale, didn't it? He hummed to himself as he probed the toiletries for shower items. Wouldn't want to have to live that way though. I think I'd go nuts.
Not much time passed before he was in the shower, gratefully scrubbing the journey out of his hair. He'd gotten by on a minimal amount of showers in the North due to the icy temperatures, so he was beyond thankful for Central's lack of snow.
He stood still for a moment and listened to the sound of hissing water over complete silence, contemplating several things at once. He was still muzzy from the train, so everything felt a little off somehow.
He let the hot water burn at the skin on his back, sting his shoulders and steam the walls with its heat and thought of Hawkeye.
There's not a lot I wouldn't give to have her by my side again, he thought and rubbed his face vigorously. Being without his lieutenant was always vaguely offsetting, and now was no exception. He had the comfort of Edward's sporadic surveillance, but there was still a few gaps in his sense of security.
With Hawkeye, it felt like he was able to relax and be nearly completely at ease. There was nobody who could watch his back like she could, and he was forever thankful for all the times she'd covered for him.
He reached out for the shampoo but discovered the bottle was nearly empty. I could have sworn this was full before we started. There's no way it's running out already. Unless…
He grumbled to himself as an image of long, fair, blond hair tied in a tight braid entered his head. That probably took a degree of maintenance Edward would never admit to. Hence our current shampoo predicament.
He made a quick mental note to provide Edward with an extra bottle of hair product at some point, then immediately corrected himself. "It's not like we'll be on this assignment forever." He found himself speaking aloud in the bathroom. "That kid can handle himself."
Won't stop me from worrying, though…
After showering, he changed into some clean casual clothes and stretched out on the hotel sofa. A recent newspaper was sitting on the coffee table within arm's reach, so he reached for it and flapped it open with a rustle.
He would fight anyone that tried to tell him there was a more comfy feeling than settling down in clean clothes after a shower with a handful of reading material and no papers to file.
The headlines were the same old things they usually were; talk about the odd actress, conspiracy columns going on about secret wars, adverts for local sales, angry sections on military taxes and even a small report on the jailbreak case Hughes and his staff were currently working on.
He'd almost finished draining the newspaper of any valuable information and was about to go off in search of a pen to attack the Sudoku when Edward re-entered.
"What's up?" he asked, taking off his red coat and dropping it over the back of the sofa. Roy pointed with one lazy finger towards the coatrack and Edward scowled. He snatched his coat back and tossed it at the rack, pumping his fist when it stuck.
"Not much," said Roy in reply to his question. "Did you get a hold of them?"
"Yeah." Edward removed his gloves next, rolling his wrists and sitting down on the chair opposite Roy. "Hawkeye gave me a bit to pass on. She said everyone at the base is holding out well, and Hughes sends a message to 'keep careful around Central'. Hawkeye also says to keep out of bars, no matter how tempting it may be."
"Ah, it's fine," returned Roy. "I've got everything under control now."
Edward maintained his usual sceptical gaze.
"Anyway. Did Alphonse have any news?"
"Nah. None at all, actually." Edward kicked back in his chair, closing his eyes and wiggling to get comfortable. "It's odd, not hearing the words 'Philosopher's Stone' coming out of our mouths 24/7. It feels like it's been forever since I've been with Al."
"Funny. I was just thinking the exact same thing about Hawkeye."
"Well, when we're done here, we'll be over halfway to getting the hell outta this dumb comp. As fun as it's been rooming with you for the last weeks, I'd like to get back to my real mission."
"The feeling is mutual," replied Roy. "Promotions don't just earn themselves."
"Promotions, promotions…" Edward put his hands behind his head and cocked his head back to look at the ceiling. "You might be one hell of a slacker, but you sure don't take it easy, do you?"
"Perks of being me."
"You still gotta take breaks though, right?"
"Coming from you?" Roy laughed. "That's like an eagle telling a pigeon that birds shouldn't fly."
"Hey! I take my breaks! Well… Okay, that's a lie."
"I'm not really the type to lie around and do nothing. I mean, I'm not some crazy workaholic who forces myself to slave away at my desk for hours if there's ample opportunity to dump the load on some other poor schmuck, but…"
Roy tossed his newspaper aside and Edward watched it hit the table through one eye.
"…people like me don't really have the right to not push ourselves."
"People like us, you mean?" Edward put in, and Roy nodded because he knew that though circumstances were different, they were ultimately kindred spirits.
They didn't speak again for a while and Roy began to scratch the specks of dirt out from behind his fingernails. He was about done when Edward spoke up again.
"You remember what the events are this go around?"
"Hmm." Roy sat up straight, frowning as he thought back a bit. "We're going through the regular sparring matches."
"Good. These guys don't match Alphonse, but it's better than getting rusty."
"Then we've got some more mental and intellect-based events. There's things like written tests and a quiz, as well as chess and military etiquette. That involves things like how to act in formal situations, and I think it's supposed to be trialled a little in an actual celebration setting. There's going to be an event to celebrate reaching the Central leg where we'll have to put on our best host faces. And I'm only mildly concerned about the time Fuhrer Bradley mentioned karaoke back in East City."
"To be honest, I'm concerned too. Your singing voice is not an experience I want to be introduced to."
Roy hummed in offense but disregarded the remark. "I don't know when we're starting, though."
"They're great at organising these, aren't they?" grumbled Edward, reaching for the newspaper Roy had tossed aside.
"It's because they don't pre-schedule the Fuhrer's arrival. Everyone in the country knows the Fuhrer is following the competition now, so having him travel with the rest of us or recording the train he's about to board could lead to assassinations or anything," explained Roy and Edward nodded in understanding. Both of them frowned and Roy admitted, "Though I don't doubt that the Fuhrer would be safe enough if he wandered down the road with a neon banner overhead."
"With skills like what I've seen and heard, yeah!" laughed Edward. "But it's not like you'd be complaining if he did get bumped off, would you?"
Roy cracked his sly grin. "That's traitor talk, Ed."
"Oh, no!" The boy waved his hands in mock concern, melodramatic sarcasm dripping from his speech. "Colonel Mustang's gonna court martial me for treason! Ah, I'm so worried!"
The two laughed again, glad to be back on good terms and staying in anywhere that wasn't North HQ.
"Yeah, it's good to be back," sighed Roy to himself as Edward flipped through the paper.
The generic sparring took place in one of Central's many large event halls, observed not only by the usual group, but a large entourage of Central bigwigs who set Roy's passion gnawing at him again. Chances are these are the guys who voted against my promotion after Kambei.
Many of the other teams sparred stiffly with the eyes of the brass staring them down, but not the East.
Roy and Edward danced around the wooden floor of the massive marble structure as if their fight had nothing to do with the competition at hand. Roy wanted nothing more than to rub his skills into the faces of the observing crowd – Look at me! He was shouting with his movements, dark eyes darting from point to point as he threw fist after kick after block after toss. All of you have forgotten this basic ability, no doubt, but not I! I'll fight with every skill I know to take you all down!
Meanwhile, Edward's attitude was none so elaborate.
This was a fight. He was going to go at it full throttle, no distractions, and no matter who was watching. Give him the Bradley, all those stuffy generals, anyone… He'd fight with all of Central staring down his every move if it came down to it.
Sparring was sparring, whatever the circumstances.
It went the same in each rotation. The matches had no written victors as they were assessed purely on individual talent, but if a winner had to be picked it was undoubtedly the East.
Afterwards, the Fuhrer stood and spoke out over the sweating teams.
"Just to shake things up a bit," he began, surveying the group with his lone eye, "we're going to go straight from a battle of the body to a battle of the mind. The next event is a chess tournament."
Roy's face split in a gleeful smirk, one that made even Edward shudder.
Colonel Mustang was confident in his chess skills.
All that time spent practising with General Grumman had to have some benefit. He'd still never managed to score any wins over Breda in the few times they'd played, but he didn't expect to start any time soon. Games like this were the lieutenant's area of expertise.
Still, he liked to think he held quite an advantage over the other teams.
He just hadn't expected some of them to be quite this hard to crack.
The competition was set up in a tournament fashion, where the victor from each match would move on to the next one. The son component of each team was separated from the father to create two separate groups, meaning there would be a victor on both sides.
Roy's first opponent, General Rothford, had been a tough adversary indeed. He definitely had an innate sense for strategy, one that Roy would have found almost enviable if he didn't know he was better. This was proved when he took the match, leaving a fuming Rothford behind as he went on to play Schuyler.
Roy felt that Schuyler's animosity for him was clouding his senses as he played, making him far easier an opponent to trick, see through and wriggle his way past. Roy's victory handshake was denied as he moved on to the next round.
This was where he'd hit major troubles. General Kamagawa had a slate face that gave nothing away. His defence was nearly impenetrable and his plays were well thought out. Roy had to carefully consider each move to make sure he wasn't falling for a bluff or an ingenious trap, and he found himself admiring Kamagawa all the more for it.
On the other side of the room, there was no such finesse in the final. Edward had started off against Aidan, who seemed not to have picked up his father's knack for tactics. He was easy prey for Edward's cunning head, and even though the teenage alchemist barely had a grasp on the rules of chess and still got the piece names mixed up, victory came easy.
Meanwhile, Felix played Inuya and claimed a win that both of them agreed was the result of a most enjoyable game.
Edward's next match was against Tyrell, who did manage to pull some sneaky moves on Edward.
"You have no idea how hard it is not to pick up your thoughts and read your moves right now," mumbled Tyrell away from the adjudicator's ears. "I wanna fight fair with you, but I'm not great at chess without predicting moves."
"I could put on a foil hat, would that work?" joked Edward. "Wait, don't tell me your last match…"
Tyrell grinned deviously, glancing at the defeated Ferguson Jr. "All's fair in a fight!"
"You said it! That's why, checkmate!" Edward smacked his knight down.
"Eh? Seriously?!" Tyrell slapped a hand into his cheek in disbelief. "And I tried so hard!"
"You got distracted," Edward pointed out, resetting the board. "That's where you went wrong."
Now at the point of the final match, all of Edward's clever techniques and slippery tactics went out the window in favour of full-frontal assault. His enemy sure wasn't holding back either.
It was Amory versus Edward, and the play pieces were dying off faster than Havoc's love life.
Roy and Umaro's match retained a mutual respect and sense of enjoyment as well as the rivalry pushing their desire for victory. They were having fun, but not slacking by any means. No move went wasted or uncalculated.
Edward and Amory were just steaming.
Roy would narrow his eyes at the board, touching a hand to his chin in contemplation. His fingers might hover over one piece then shift unpredictably to another. A quiet understanding might fill his gaze as he gripped the piece he wanted to move.
Edward claimed Amory's bishop and hurled it to the ground viciously.
Roy smiled wryly as Umaro took his queen and put him in check smoothly. The Kambeian general offered a smile of his own, almost sympathetic. Darn, that was a good one, Roy growled inwardly. I really hate losing my queen pieces. I'm gonna whip this the whole way around in his face… How's this strategy, then?
Amory took Edward's last rook and the blond alchemist nearly flipped the board right off the table.
In the end, Umaro beat Roy by a fine margin. They shook hands warmly, having found a new bond over their each being impressed by the other's chess skill. There was a polite applause from the spectators, neatly interrupted by a raucous cheer from the other end of the hall.
"HA! In your face! I told you I'd win! I'm the best, don't you know?!"
"Oh, put a sock in it! It's only because I wasn't at my best today!"
"Play me again and again, the results won't change. I'm the best!"
Roy made a little noise of exasperation in the back of his throat and glared at Edward, who was grinning like an imbecile and openly jeering in the defeated Amory's face.
"Honestly, could you get any less dignified?" the colonel muttered to himself.
Edward sprang back and forth, taunting Amory to the point where they were both on their feet and hurling petty insults like five-year-olds.
"Apparently so," concluded Roy and he moved in to break it up before the two began to rip each other's ponytails out.
"So… Tomorrow is an exam and a quiz?" queried Edward as he, Roy, and a few of the other competitors made their way back to the accommodation.
"Sounds like a blast!" offered Tyrell with blindingly false enthusiasm.
"I'll say," agreed Inuya with a sigh. "I'm not exactly the academic sort."
Usagi, who had been part of the audience for several of the events, laughed quietly at him. "Sorry, brother, but you're right about that. You couldn't sit still in a class if your life depended on it."
"Not lookin' forward to it so much m'self," admitted the younger Ferguson in a disgruntled tone. "Ain't hard to see I'm built for brawn, not smarts."
His father grunted an agreement.
As they reached their corridor, each team split off their separate ways. Well, most did.
Tyrell followed Usagi to the room she was sharing with her father and brother, the latter of those two bouncing enthusiastically behind. It sounded like he was reminiscing over some detail of their time in Kambei.
Roy unlocked the East team's room and let himself and Edward inside, stretching his back as he wandered in.
"I think we're gonna fare relatively well tomorrow," he announced. "I don't mind where we place, so long as it's above everyone here I want to beat."
"So like, first place?" Edward prompted and Roy laughed abruptly as he took off his jacket.
He didn't deny the statement.
It wasn't long into the afternoon that Edward had dropped off on the couch, slouching backwards and breathing heavily.
"There really isn't any time where this kid isn't taking a nap…" Roy muttered, looking up from another of Hawkeye's books in vague distaste for Edward's untidy positioning. "I guess I'll wake him and kick him into the bedrooms later."
That time eventually came, and Roy rose to his feet and stretched. Various joints cracked to life and he cleared his throat. A few of his muscles were starting to ache from the intense sparring earlier on, but he'd suffered much worse in the last couple of weeks.
"Hey, Ed," he said as he prodded the boy awake with a gentle nudge. "About time we moved off to bed, isn't it?"
The boy groaned quietly in argument and blinked his eyes open. "A'ight. Coulda jus' stayed there, y'know…"
"Maybe if you wanted your head fixed on at some bizarre angle tomorrow," replied Roy haughtily. "And look – your clothes are all crumpled as well. Did you even shower today?"
"I'll do it tomorrow morning," complained Edward, propping himself up and sighing as he stood. "I can't be bothered right now."
"Fine. But if your hair's all greasy and you're still covered in sweat come then, I'm frying your ass. We need to look our absolute best for this part of the comp."
"Got it," grunted Edward, shuffling off down the short corridor to the bedroom.
Roy took a couple of minutes to clean up the room before heading after his subordinate, picking up his jacket as he went. He set about hanging his uniform away in the bedroom cupboard.
Edward had already settled in one of the two singles in the room, squirming his way underneath the covers like a mole. His deep sleeping breaths filled the air mere moments later, and Roy scorned the fact that he'd left his trousers lying on the floor at the foot of his bed.
The colonel stretched again before climbing into his own bed, checking that his case of belongings was where he'd left it upon arrival. Satisfied that they hadn't been robbed and weren't about to get attacked in their sleep any time soon, he settled down to rest.
Just move the king, Roy thought.
He reached for the piece, nudging it forward a place. It moved slowly, like it was underwater.
Quaint.
"Ah, the king sure is a nice piece. Can't do much all by himself though. Has to rely on the queen, doesn't he?" said his opponent conversationally.
"True," replied Roy. The voice had a rippling quality, and he found his was no different. This whole place seemed disjointed.
"The king can be quite the useless piece, can't he?"
Roy frowned. "Wouldn't say so. He determines the whole game, doesn't he?"
"Maybe. But still…"
Roy frowned, wondering now who he was playing but not looking up.
"Those little pawns can't mean much to him, can they?" came the voice again.
"I think they do," retorted Roy as the man began to make his move.
"Is that so?"
Before his eyes, the board wavered. The king piece blurred before his eyes, blurred into a person. The other pieces followed and slowly, Roy was looking at the faces of his men in the board below.
"Oh, you made a wrong move, Roy," said the voice, pushing his still wooden piece towards Hawkeye, previously the queen piece.
With a swipe, her tiny persona vanished like dust and he cried out. The pieces around her, Fuery who had been a pawn and Breda and Falman and Havoc and the rest of his men right down to the privates and corporals looked her way and gasped.
"You…" Roy growled at the board as his king piece, the perfect image of himself, fell to his knees.
"The king still can't even exact revenge. What a useless piece…"
Only now did Roy look up to find in this dream, he was playing himself.
I'm kind of concerned now... Maybe it's just due to my lack of involvement, but I feel like the FMA fandom is getting smaller and smaller... And there's nothing that scares me more than such a great series becoming obsolete! ! It terrifies me! ; v ;
So to all of you still going strong, I hope you'll continue to love FMA more than ever! Promise me that, alrighty? ((This fandom helped me grow so much, not to mention the amazing fanfiction community it has. T^T))
And if you guys all leave me a review to let me know how many are waiting, that would be a massive help. If it's only a couple, I'll take my time with other work, but if there's still a bunch of you, I'll know to make this a priority for all you lovely people!