In the interest of cultural accuracy, the boys now go to the U.S., rather than Japan. Pinako, however, is actually Japanese! Third generation, living in Dublith, a small town just outside of Sacramento (based on a real suburb/town I've visited once).

Chapter 2
Something Like a Beginning

Ed awoke from his nap with a start, grunting a little and blinking up at the blinding light above him. He groaned, yawned, and reached up to try to turn it off, but ended up accidentally turning the knob that controlled the air conditioner. He yelped as he was blasted with cold air, making Al open his eyes blearily.

"What are you doing?" he asked as Ed turned the air conditioning off aggressively and switched off the light as well.

"Just go back to sleep, Al."

Instead of leaning his head back against his seat, Al glanced up to the control panel and snickered. "It's not rocket science, big brother."

"Shut up," Ed muttered, though without any real anger. They had been on this plane for at least seven hours now, and at this point everything felt like rocket science. Soon they would be landing in Dallas, but they had to go through customs and catch another plane there in order to get to Sacramento by seven p.m. California time, at which point the Rockbell's would pick them up for the drive to Dublith, and also at which point Ed imagined his brain would be completely fried.

Al chuckled and yawned, closing his eyes again. Ed glanced at him, then at the businessman next to him (who hadn't said a word to either of them the whole flight), before looking warily at the TV screen in front of him. He'd watched two in-flight movies already and really wasn't feeling up to another. Instead, he reached into the seat pocket and pulled out the book he'd been reading before: Equivalent Exchange—The Philosophy of the Ages. Opening it up, he let his fingers rest absently on the page as he stared out the window into the dark. He liked to imagine he could see moonlight glancing off the surface of the ocean or the clouds, but there was really nothing to see, and the plane wouldn't meet up with the sun for another hour at least.

He yawned widely and turned back to his book. "Equivalent exchange, or touka koukan, as it was called by its Japanese creator, has become a popular philosophy among many atheists and agnostics today," he read.

I wonder what America will be like, Ed thought, letting his mind drift as he read. He'd been there before, but only when he was a kid; it had been at least eight years, and a lot had happened in that time.

"For the scientifically minded, equivalent exchange relates to the law of conservation of mass—every change is merely a reconstitution of preexisting material. Nothing wholly new can be or ever has been created. This philosophy can also be compared to a universal Hammurabi's code: an eye for an eye, a life for a life, and so on."

Will anyone miss us? I don't have many friends, and Al only has Fletcher... who's Russell's brother...

"Equivalent exchange can also be likened to the Hindu belief in karma, or the Christian golden rule. Each change, whether material or not, relates to the events that came before it. In essence, you get what you give."

Maybe I'll make new friends in Dublith. We've been through enough bad things that there's got to be plenty of good luck stored in our future. Equivalent exchange and all that.

"This book will treat the formation of the philosophy of equivalent exchange and its place in the arena of modern philosophy, then discuss famous people who have used these ideas to their advantage."

Well, whatever happens, it can't be worse than where we came from, Ed thought, letting his head fall against the cool window. The heavy bound book slipped from his limp fingers as he closed his eyes and drifted off into sleep.

x.o.x

Dallas International Airport, and the process of customs, visas, and plane changes, had passed like a dream, and Edward felt like he was waking up for the first time when he stepped into the much quieter Sacramento airport. His entire body felt grungy and he had no idea what time it was, in the U.S. or in Germany. Al, walking next to him, looked just as bleary under the fluorescent lights.

"Tired?" Al asked him, grinning a little.

"Hmph," Ed said. He had no idea how Al could actually be happy after such a hellish international flight—not that anything had gone wrong. Ed just didn't travel too well. As they approached the exit that would get them out of the gate area and through security, he looked around. "Where's Granny Pinako?"

The question made Al frown slightly as he looked around. "I don't know. It's been a long time since we've seen her. Do you remember what she looks like?"

"It's hard to forget," Ed replied dryly. They'd reached the revolving doors of the exit and he took a deep breath and pushed through them, Al following behind him, both of them scanning the crowd of unfamiliar faces.

"Edward! Alphonse!" came a sudden shout, and Ed whirled around to see an excited looking girl with blonde hair and blue eyes. She looked familiar, so she had to be...

"Winry?!" Ed and Al said at the same time, their eyes widening in surprise.

Winry Rockbell laughed, hurrying forward to hug them both. She'd grown a lot taller since they had seen her last, and her figure had filled out; she looked amazing in a dark jacket, a short skirt, and black, laced-up boots. "You got taller!" she told them both, then reached out to ruffle Ed's hair, eliciting a growl. "Well, sort of."

She was saved from Ed's impending rant by the arrival of her grandmother, Pinako Rockbell, who also moved forward to hug the boys (successfully distracting Ed). "It's been a while," she said in her gravelly voice, stepping back to look up at them both.

"Wow," Ed said in a loud whisper. "She's even shorter than I remember."

"And you're not as tall as I thought you'd be," Pinako said, forestalling another one of Ed's rants by hitting him on the forearm. ("Ow!") "Let's head to the baggage claim. I imagine you boys brought plenty of things."

"And gifts!" Al said eagerly. "From Resembool." He grabbed Ed by the arm (a gesture that was met with a protest and then reluctant acquiescence) and hustled off behind Pinako, Winry walking happily beside them.

"How is Resembool?" Winry asked as they took the escalator down to the ground level. She held her purse in her hands and looked at them both curiously. "Is the grocer still as grumpy as ever?" Winry had grown up in Germany with her parents, who had been military doctors; when they were killed on duty (in a mysterious situation that was still classified), she had moved to California with her grandmother Pinako. But she missed her childhood home sometimes.

Ed shrugged. "Yeah, he's a giant jerk," he replied, earning a frown from Al—who thought the same thing, but in a less blunt way. "But he totally loved mom, so he still gives us discounts on the stuff we buy."

Winry laughed. "I know he's a giant softie, even if he says he hates kids. He used to give me candy bars all the time."

"Wish he gave me candy bars," Ed commented.

They reached the baggage claim, where the carousel was starting to move. Ed hoped that their bags had made it intact; the last thing he wanted to do after such a long flight was spend hours on the phone with Lufthansa or United Airlines to try to retrieve their lost luggage. He divided his attention between the conveyor belt, which was beginning to spit out bags, and Al and Winry, who were continuing the conversation about Resembool.

Sometimes Ed felt bad for Al, who had always been fonder of their home town than he was. Ed was the one who had been dying to get out, away from the too-familiar faces and places and people who looked at him with pity instead of, well, anything else. He was the one who had pushed them into this study abroad program too, though he imagined Al was also happy to stay with the Rockbells for a while. But if Ed had a choice, he'd never go back to their shitty town. Al wasn't like that.

Ed supposed his younger brother had always been better at forgiving and forgetting.

He was shaken out of his thoughts when Al grabbed his arm. "Hey, that one's yours!" he said, pointing at the large red suitcase coming down the ramp and onto the carousel.

"Yeah!" Ed cheered, hurrying up to grab it with both hands and lug it off the belt. Al's bag followed soon after, as did the bag they shared between the two of them, and soon all three suitcases were in their possession. "Great," Ed said with relish, rubbing his hands together. No airline phone calls tonight.

Pinako looked them over—Al was holding his suitcase, Ed had his, and Winry took the one they shared between them. "Shall we?" she asked.

x.o.x

Dublith was about half an hour away from Sacramento and they made it in fairly good time with Pinako behind the wheel. (There were a few near-accidents, but Ed, transfixed by the green and wide open landscape passing by on each side of the highway, didn't really notice. Al and Winry, however, did.) The Rockbell residence was on the southern end of the town, near the outskirts where the city gave way to hilly, open land; Pinako owned several acres on which she kept a few dogs, chickens, and one cow.

As soon as they got out of the car, Ed stretched widely, grinning. In Resembool he often felt cramped by the close rows of houses, and no matter how far you drove, you were always in a village, never in any sort of open space. But here, if he looked out behind the Rockbell's place, the only things he could see were mountains in the near distance. No houses, steeples, warehouses. Just land.

"Ahhhh, this is great!" he said, and turned to Winry and Al only to be bowled over by what turned out to be a large black dog. Ed yelped as his backside hit the ground.

Winry ran towards them. "Stop it, Den!" she commanded, half-laughing, as Ed ineffectually tried to push the mutt off of him. She grabbed its collar, yanking it back and allowing Ed to scramble to his feet and wipe the slobber off his face.

Pinako and Al were already taking some of the bags up to the house, Pinako carrying their largest bag with apparent ease. Ed glared at the dog. "Hey, I've got a job to do. What gives?"

Winry laughed again, letting the dog go; this time, it walked up to Ed wagging its tail and sniffed at his gloves. "Sorry," she said. "This is Den, he's our house dog. He gets a little excited whenever there are visitors."

Ed gave the dog a stern look and then grabbed his backpack and suitcase out of the car, letting Winry shut the trunk. "He better learn who's boss around here," he said, giving the dog another glare. It wagged its tail and tried to lick his gloved hands. "Eugh!"

"Come on, Den," Winry said, whistling. The dog bounded after her and up the steps, going into the house. Ed gave his slobbered-on glove a disgusted look, but followed.

The interior of the house was about as nice as the exterior, with warm wooden floors and soft rugs. Ed followed Winry's leave and kicked off his boots at the entryway.

"Edward, your room is down this hall," Pinako said, waving him towards her. "Al is right here, and you're here," she said, gesturing to two rooms on either side of the hallway. "You'll be sharing a bathroom. Winry and I sleep upstairs."

Ed dragged his suitcase into his room and then let it go, shrugging off his backpack as well. He looked around. His room was nicely furnished, with white walls and a blue and white bedspread. It was a little less space than he was used to at home, but it was still private, and still his own. "This is awesome," he said with a grin, taking off his gloves and leaving them on the bed. He figured Winry and Pinako knew about his prosthetic already; there was no point in hiding it. He shrugged off his jacket, too.

"Ah, your room is great too!" Al said, poking his head in the doorway behind them. He was grinning; Ed imagined Al's grin was mirrored on his own face. "This is great, thank you so much, Granny Pinako!"

Pinako chuckled. "I'll let you boys fight over the shower later," she said. "I want to get you fed and ready for bed. You must be tired after the long trip."

"But with the jet lag, you probably won't sleep in too late," Winry chimed in. She had made her way down the hall, Den at her feet, and was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed

Pinako shooed her out of the way. "Get the boys something to drink! So," the old woman continued as Ed and Al followed her down the hallway, "tell me about things in Resembool. How's your father?"

"Same old, same old," Ed grumbled under his breath, glaring at the floor. He'd hoped that his first day in America wouldn't be marred by bringing up all the reasons he'd wanted to leave Germany, but he supposed no one could be that lucky.

Al, as usual, was more charitable. "He's doing well," he replied. "He's able to spend more time researching than teaching, now, which makes things less stressful."

"Hmmm," Pinako said. She hadn't missed Ed's reaction. But they were in the kitchen now, and she bustled around the refrigerator. "How about some onigiri, boys?"

"It's rice balls, wrapped in seaweed," Winry supplied helpfully as she emerged from a door (probably to the garage, Ed imagined) holding three Cokes. One went to Al, one went to Ed, and one she kept for herself. "It's Japanese food," she continued. "Grandma's specialty. You'll like it."

Ed shrugged. "Okay," he said, carefully opening his Coke. He didn't want it bubbling up and spilling all over him.

"I've had it before!" Al said, craning his neck to watch with interest as Pinako got a tray from the refrigerator. "We had a Japanese exchange student in my class last year, and she made some for everyone before she left."

"Great," Pinako said, giving them all plates and placing the tray of rice balls down on the table in front of them. "Then you'll be able to show Ed how to eat them."

"Hey," Ed said sulkily, taking a swig of Coke—and immediately making a face, nearly spitting it out. "What the hell is this?!"

Al looked alarmed, Pinako, amused, and Winry burst out laughing, doubling over and covering her mouth. "It's American Coke!" she crowed when she was able. "In Germany it's made with real sugar. Here..." She shrugged. "I have no idea." She patted Ed on the shoulder comfortingly. "You'll get used to it."

Ed took another, more tentative sip, and pulled a face. "Ugh, if you say so," he replied, making a private resolution never to drink it again. Al tried his own Coke and, while he was better at hiding his reaction than his brother, Ed could see the way he wrinkled his nose. So there, U.S.A. If Al didn't like it, then the Coke was absolutely horrible. He put his drink down and reached for a rice ball instead, and Pinako's homemade food turned out much better than the sodas.

While the four of them ate the light dinner, Winry began to tell them about her school, Central High, in her opinion the better of Dublith's two high schools. Ed listened as she described the administration, the teachers, and her classmates, in that order, and began to look forward to starting school in a week.

Equivalent exchange, he thought. We've been through enough bad shit. We deserve something good to happen for once.

Reviews & con crit appreciated as always!