AN: Hello again! I figured you deserved another chapter since you're all so patient with me. Thank you!
While you wait for the next part of this one, I recommend you to read my new story Remember Me. It's also about Alfons, but there's no connection to this story. The pairing in Remember Me is completely crazy, but I would be really happy if you would read and review it. :) Remember Me will have more regular updates because it is FINISHED. 17 chapters. I haven't been lazy, you know.
But first, to this one. Soon stuff will start picking up here, I promise! I love you guys!
CHAPTER 12: BIRTHDAY
Over the next couple of days, Al fell into a normal and tedious routine. It was strange how normal this was supposed to be, since he had never felt so tired. Even if the load of homework due to Friday was enough to fill a whole month, he still kept getting more homework from the other subjects as well which was due Monday and Tuesday. He'd have to sit all weekend with it if he was going to be able to work on the array at all.
The array was the only thing he wanted to work with, but still he could never do it. When he finally had some time in the evening, he was either too tired and went straight to sleep, or he was simply busy with essays, math homework or other things.
Still he managed pretty well at school, despite practising for Professor Kiehle's periodic table test an hour before it started, and writing the conclusion of his essays in the recess before English class started. It went around by a hair. Neither did it help that he felt nervous wherever he went because of Brad. He knew he had nothing to fear from the guy in particular, but he just couldn't help it. He thought Brad might be the reason why most of his other classmates always ignored him and never tried to really get to know him. His good mood was slipping every time he thought about it, or whenever he felt stressed with school work (which was most of the time) and it was of course noticeable on the outside. He knew Alfons was starting to wonder what was going on.
Sometimes Alfons came into his room in the evening, asking him about school. Al simply answered that everything was fine. These things weren't a real problemto him! He simply couldn't classify these things as that; not compared to what he had been through before, or even compared to what Alfons Heiderich had been through. Compared to that, a simple school situation should be easy as pie and not worth complaining about. Al knew he didn't even know everything regarding Alfons' time in Amestris yet because of his amnesia, but he knew Alfons had intentionally not told him everything about the time they lived together in his world. Al hadn't asked either, not because he wasn't curious, but because he knew Alfons probably had a good reason for not telling him about it. It had probably been something traumatic.
He had often noticed how Alfons would be constantly on guard, and always hesitating for a long time before letting it go and trusting people. It happened whenever they were outside, shopping in the local grocery store or running some other errands in the city together. Like he was always expecting people to be cruel to him. Al didn't like that his friend felt that way, but he figured, he wasn't the only one who was adjusting to this world. Alfons was too.
It was Monday at noon and Al slipped down on a chair by an available table in the cafeteria with his tray of food. Today's menu was lasagne, which had become one of his favourite dishes in this world since Alfons had made it for him the first time he tried it.
Mei sat down opposite of him, wearing a very pink knitted sweater with too long sleeves. "The world is so big!" she said randomly as she sat down.
Al looked up, starting to get used to it. "My half-brother said once that this world is actually quite small, compared to many other things." He'd actually started to look on Alfons as a brother, it wasn't just a cover up anymore.
"It's big enough that people think they can hide from everything," Mei replied. As on cue, Xiao Mei showed up from the neck of her sweater and settled on her shoulder. Mei offered the panda a bite of her lunch, which the little animal happily ate.
Al sighed a smile. "What makes you say that?"
"People hide from things they don't want to face, like when school-tired students stay home in bed when they're not sick, or when grownups leave on vacation to the Canary Islands when they want to let go of their routine for some weeks," Mei said in a light tone, picking idly at her food. "There's always something to avoid, but sometimes these things are unavoidable. It's sort of what people call fate. Isn't that why you came to America?"
"You think I came here because I ran away from something?" Al surmised sharply.
"Yes," Mei said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Maybe it was?
"It's not the reason why I came here," Al said defensively. "But... possibly that was the reason why Alfons wanted to go. He wanted to protect me."
The smaller Chinese girl stared worriedly at him with her large, ebony eyes. "Are you in danger?"
Al scoffed and shook his head. "Not that I know of." Wasn't that a lie? Why did he always have to lie? "Anyway, I don't really believe in fate."
Now you're starting to sound like your brother, Schiller commented inside his head.
Mei shrugged and took a small bite of her lasagne with her fork. "Fate doesn't always have to be decided for everyone. It's just a word we use for luck or unfortunate future happenings. This cheese is a bit runny." Xiao Mei wrinkled her nose, as a response to that.
Al ignored Schiller and smiled of Mei's random addition. "Where does the panda come from anyway?"
Mei beamed. "I brought her with me when I moved here. She's cute, isn't she?"
Al chuckled. "Yeah, definitely."
"We're always together," Mei said and patted Xiao Mei's head.
Al suddenly became aware of some gasps and worried comments a few tables away, and turned his head curiously to see what was going on. He rose quickly as he noticed someone lying on the floor. Was someone hurt?
The person laid on his stomach and people around him tried to get in touch with him. Al hurried over to the scene, getting more alarmed as he noticed who it was.
"Ling!" he called out. "Ling?"
The older boy laid face down on the floor and didn't move. Al knelt next to him and shook him gently. "Ling, are you okay?"
Then a loud noise was heard. From Ling's stomach.
"H-Hungyyyy..." Ling managed.
Al raised his eyebrows. "Is that it?"
"Fooooood," Ling whined.
Al sighed and tried to pull him up. "Come sit with us, I'll share my lunch with you."
Immediately Ling leaped up to his feet. "Really! That's so nice of you!" He rushed over to the table and sat down before Al's food, happily starting to eat.
Al sat down again and watched him. He had never seen anyone devour a meal like that. At least, Ling could give his brother some serious competition. Mei looked at Ling in disgust and crossed her arms, clearing her throat.
Ling glanced at her with a goofy grin. "Hello!" he said.
Mei kicked him in the leg.
"Ouch!"
Al blinked. He had never seen Mei angry before.
Mei glared at the Chinese boy. "Ling Yao, where are your manners?! You just ate all of Alphonse's food!"
"He said it was alright," Ling said.
"I didn't know you guys know each other?" Al said slightly confused.
"Mei Chang, is this how you treat royalty?" Ling whined.
Al raised his eyebrows, even more confused now. Who was royalty? Anyway, he'd never noticed any relation between the two. Except that they were the only Chinese people on the school, as far as he knew.
"We know each other. A little," Mei said vaguely.
Ling kept gobbling away at Al's food like nothing in particular was happening.
"He said something about royalty?" Al asked, unsure if he'd even heard right.
"Yes," Mei sighed. "He's a prince."
Al gaped and stared at Ling. "You're… a prince?"
Ling simply smiled a cunning smile. "Of course I am. It's a long story. This lasagne is great!"
Al pouted. "If you're really a prince, why are you're eating all my food?"
"I was hungry! Princes do get hungry too, Alphonse," Ling informed.
Mei had taken out her cards and spread them on the table.
"What are you reading into now?" Al asked, glancing at her.
"You mean who," Mei corrected.
"Ah. Who then?"
"Ling Yao," Mei replied. She kept her eyes closed and held her hand over the cards without picking one.
Ling paused eating for a second and stared curiously at her. "What are you doing?"
"I'm reading tarot cards," Mei replied.
"Hmm," Ling said, rubbing his chin. He was silent for a long time, and Al just knew from the silence that Ling was inspecting her flow of ch'i, the way he had done with him. "Oh, I remember. Like you did when those guys were about to beat up Alphonse? I did not know you could do such thing."
"Ling..." Al said in a slight complaining tone. He was still embarrassed about that.
"That's right," Mei said. "The cards told me you would come to help him."
"Oh really?" Ling said, looking both amused and sceptic at the same time. "What more did they tell you?"
Al gave him a look, warning Ling against making fun of her. Mei opened her eyes and turned her head to stare peculiarly at Ling. "You had the Prince of Wands over you. He's an enthusiastic person who swoops into situations he finds interesting, and likes credit for his actions. The suddenness over him hides a deep sense of morality and honour, and he is always ready to protect others." She looked at Al. "The Prince of Wands often shows up to show you that an important person will be either leaving your life or coming into it."
Al's eyes widened.
"Sounds interesting!" Ling said cheerfully and started eating again like another Edward. "I sound like a very cool guy. And the cards says I'm a prince too, do you believe me now, Al?"
"Which important person?" Al asked before he could even stop himself, ignoring everything else for now. "What do you mean leave?" But right after the questions had slipped out of him, he regretted it. Mei couldn't answer these questions… No matter how talented she might be.
"Someone close to you," she said. "By heart and soul."
His brother?
Al sunk a bit together in his seat. Would Edward come back, or would he leave forever? What if he'd already left? He didn't want to think about it. There was no way he was gone! He was way too determined. Al decided to push away the grim thoughts.
"Tell me something more about me," Ling cooed.
Mei shrugged. "Close your eyes and pick a card then."
"Cool," Ling said and did as she said. He let his hand trail over the half circle and Al regarded him, wondering if he would feel something the way he had when he had picked one. Suddenly Ling's brow furrowed and he picked up one. "Strange," he muttered. "I've seldom sensed a strong ch'i akin to this one."
"The cards have ch'i?" Al asked in wonder.
Ling nodded. "There's ch'i in everything, human or not." He looked at his card. "This one resembles my own the most, I think." He gave the card to Mei, showing an old man standing alone and trapped between walls of rocks, though streams of light was shining through the rocks and hitting his body.
"The Hermit," Mei said.
"What?" Ling complained. "The cards say I'm some sort of a loner? That's not true."
"You came here from China, alone with your goal," Mei said.
Ling shut up and stared at her with narrow, slanted eyes. "What do you know about that?"
"You have walls around you because you have a big secret you yet haven't shared with anyone," Mei said, regarding him. "When the Hermit shows up, it tells that you're on a journey for a particular reason, but you're intending to go back to your origin once your intentions have been fulfilled."
Ling had stopped eating again and didn't say anything.
"The light that shines on you is the wisdom you're gathering on your journey. It comes in small portions at the time, but eventually the streams will be big enough for you to break through the walls. But if you don't choose right, the walls will collapse and crush you," Mei said and continued eating.
"What, saying that so carelessly?" Ling muttered drolly.
Al had gotten curious. Ling didn't deny a single thing of what she had said. What was his secret? Why was he only in the US temporary? If he was really a prince, then why would he travel so far alone? But he didn't ask him about it since Ling feigned having forgotten about the whole conversation already and continued eating eagerly.
"I'm sure you'll find what you're looking for," Mei went on. "I think you two might be supposed to help each other."
"Interesting, indeed," Ling said and finished his food, standing up from his chair in the same instant. "See you in class tomorrow, my friend."
"Okay, bye," Al said. Something wasn't right here. How exactly did these two know each other? Though, it seemed like neither of them were interested in elaborating on that one.
Mei gathered her cards back together. "Next class is Biology."
Hurray, Al thought dully.
As he went home late that afternoon it was already close to dark again. Al couldn't wait until spring; then the days wouldn't seem so short. When he got home he had to start on another biology project consisting in making a DNA-sculpture out of anything. How pointless wasn't that? He wanted to drop the entire thing and rather focus on the array. Maybe Schiller was right. He was becoming more like Edward.
He had at least gotten a couple of hours last night to work on the alchemy circle and he had gotten a bit further on it. But he had never created his own array to make the Gate before, and it had to be perfect. The first time he had opened the Gate was when he and his brother transmuted their dead mother. Biggest mistake of his life. But it had been Edward who had directed the transmutation and his array. Last time he had transmuted a Gate, it had been Thule Society that had provided an array for him to use. Second biggest mistake in his life.
But that's why he needed this array to set everything right again.
He stopped abruptly by the sound of movement in a dark alley right next to him. He listened quietly for some seconds before looking around himself to see if there were any people nearby. Didn't seem like it. He was about to hurry off when he heard the sound again, identifying it as a ruffling of paper, and turned back to the alley.
Out from between the garbage containers a small, stray kitten with golden fur showed up and considered lurking over to him, but didn't seem to have decided whether it was safe or not yet. Al smiled and bent his knees down and reached out an inviting hand.
After some seconds the cat motioned towards him, sniffed at his fingers, before snuggling its small head into his palm. Al stroked its white and yellow fur fancily, noticing how thin and cold the kitten was.
"Are you all alone out here?" he asked softly.
The kitten rubbed its side against his leg and circled back to his hand to get scratched some more behind its ear and purred in appreciation. It seemed young, barely a few months old.
Al fell madly in love with the cat. His brother would never have let him keep it, but for once it was convenient that Edward wasn't around. Al gathered the kitten into his arms and stood up. The cat whipped its tail around, wondering if this was safe, but decided to accept the treatment. He wrapped his arm carefully around the cat to shield it from the cold, but at the same time not startle it. "Come with me," he spoke in a whisper. "You can't stay out here like this."
Al walked carefully and the cat settled comfortably in his arms and kept purring all the way home. He stepped up the stairs and managed to open the front door with his elbow, and let himself into the warmth. "I'm home!" He threw off his boots and met an astounded Alfons in the living room.
Al smiled innocently. "Hi."
"You brought home a cat?" Alfons asked the obvious.
"It was left alone, starved and cold in an alley, I couldn't not bring her home," Al insisted. "She'd die out there."
Alfons sighed and stepped to him, regarding the cat in his arms. He lifted his hand and stroked the furry head, the kitten starting to purr again and lifted its head so he could scratch her under her chin. He had to admit, it was a cute little thing.
"All gold," he said softly. "Golden fur and eyes."
Al smiled. "She won't be a bother, right? What can she do? Please, let me keep her."
Alfons stared at him in wonder. Al was begging him to keep a cat? Since when did he decide everything? Maybe he just did. He was the responsible one, wasn't he? Alfons smiled. "I don't mind. But you have to ask if it's alright with Mr. Cotton first, in case he's allergic and doesn't want animals so close to him."
Al nodded in excitement even before he was finished talking. "Thank you, I'll go ask him right away. Watch her while I'm gone, I'll just give her some milk first."
Alfons chuckled as Al hurried past him towards the kitchen counter.
Al put the kitten down on the floor, and immediately it started sniffing around the floor after something edible. He opened the cabinet and found a small bowl and some milk from the fridge. He poured some milk into the bowl and put it down on the floor. The kitten sniffed and then licked at the milk, drinking eagerly like it hadn't seen food for a month.
"Are you sure it doesn't belong to anyone?" Alfons asked.
"Then she would've had a collar with a name tag, right?" Al pointed out. "And she wouldn't have been starved like this."
"That's true. Alright, if it's fine with Mr. Cotton it's fine with me," Alfons said.
Al nodded and run to take his boots back on. "I'll be right back!"
"You're hungry too, right? Want some chicken?" Alfons asked.
"Sounds good!" Al slipped out the door and jogged down the stairs, rounded the house corner and stepped onto the porch of their landlord. He rang the doorbell once and waited impatiently for a reply.
After a half minute or so, Mr. Cotton opened the door. "Ah, Alphonse, what a nice surprise."
"Hello, Mr. Cotton."
"Just get in before all the warmth run out!" The man stepped to the side and beckoned Al into the warmth. "Let's keep the cold out where it belongs."
"For sure," Al replied. "I wanted to ask you a favour, sir."
"Sure thing," Cotton said. "Just come in to the kitchen and I'll make some tea."
"It won't really take long," Al said.
"That's alright, have a cup anyway," Cotton said.
"Alright," Al gave in and smiled.
"Splendid." Cotton trotted into the messy kitchen and put on the kettle. He found two cups and sugar and a variety of tea bags from a small box. "Have a seat."
Al slipped down on a chair by the kitchen table and rested his arms on the table flat. "Thank you, sir."
Oscar gathered the cups, tea and sugar into his arms and carried it all to the table. "I hope you like any of these."
"I do," Al said. "Camomile is my favourite."
"Alfons told me you've started school now. How is that going?" the man asked conversationally. "I imagine it must be a bit of an adjustment to start in the middle of the first year of high school."
"It's okay," Al said humbly. "When I'm not drowning in homework at least."
Oscar chuckled. "Oh yes, I remember those times. It's even more now; it seems to only increase each year. People discover more and more, which makes the curriculum bigger, of course. But sometimes they forget that you have a life too," he said understanding.
"For sure," Al confirmed. "But I manage." He smiled.
"You're a bright boy, Al," Oscar said. "Just like Alfons, I dare say. You haven't considered rocket science to be your field then?"
Al looked surprised at the man. "Rocket science, not really."
"A shame," Oscar smiled. "I can say it's very interesting, but I've worked in the field for many years, from the very beginning you could say." The kettle was done and he rose from the table to go get it. "What is it you plan to do when you grow up then, Alphonse?"
"I'm not really sure," Al replied honestly. "I'll probably take medical studies. I want to help people."
"That's a very noble choice." Oscar stepped back to the table and poured some hot water into his mug. "Is there a special reason?"
Al shrugged. "My brother lost his arm and leg when we were children, and until now he has been wearing metal instead."
"Metal limbs, you say?" Cotton echoed. "That's interesting. That technology must be very advanced, I have never seen anything like it. Did it happen in the war?"
Al just nodded to avoid further questions about the matter. "It can still be improved, I just need to figure out how."
"Doctors can do the most unbelievable things these days," Cotton said. "They can take limbs from dead bodies and sew them onto someone alive who has lost a limb and replace it."
Al stared at him in awe. "Really? But, even so, I think my brother would probably not want that," he said. "He hates the thought about taking advantage of someone else, even if they were dead."
"Your brother sounds like a good man," Cotton said. "I can tell that both you and Alfons miss him."
"We do," Al said sincerely.
"Anyway, what favour were you asking me?" Oscar asked.
"Oh, I found a stray kitten on the way home from school. I was wondering if it's alright if we keep it. Only upstairs and outside, of course."
"Of course you can," Cotton chuckled. "That's not a problem at all."
Al lightened happily up. "Thank you so much, sir," he said gratefully and took a sip of his tea. "I couldn't let it starve to death out in the cold."
"That poor thing," Cotton said. "You take good care of it, Al."
"I will do that," Al smiled. "Thank you for letting me keep it."
"You're welcome, kid. Was that all you wanted to ask me?" Cotton asked.
Al nodded. "Yes. I should go back upstairs soon, Alfons is making dinner."
"Yes, then you should better get going. Alfons is a good boy, give him my regards. I'm pleased that he has started working at the factory."
Al smiled and rose from his chair. "Thanks for the tea." But the second he was on his feet, his head felt suddenly dizzy and his vision blurred. He touched his forehead in confusion and swayed.
"Al? Are you alright?" he heard a distant voice ask in worry.
Before he could reply, his face hit the wooden floor and everything blackened before his eyes.
"Al? Al, wake up!"
Al stirred and opened his eyes, slowly and squinting at the light. Someone was lightly shaking him and he parted his lips to tell him to stop, but the words got stuck in his throat. He stared straight up into a pair of worried blue eyes.
"Thank God," Alfons sighed in relief, noticing that he was coming to. "Are you okay?"
Al twisted his head and stared confused around the room. He was lying on the couch in Cotton's living room and Alfons was kneeling next to him.
"What happened?" Al asked, his mouth feeling dry. His head was throbbing and his body felt numb and lax. He felt like he had a vicious hangover.
"Cotton called me some minutes ago. He said you just collapsed." Alfons stared worriedly at him. "How are you feeling?"
Al sat up on his palms and took some deep breaths. "Did I pass out?"
"Yes."
Oscar Cotton came into the living room, carrying a glass of water. "I'm glad you've come to, I didn't understand what was wrong with you." He handed the glass of water to him, and Al slowly accepted it.
"Are you alright or should I call a doctor?" the man asked in concern.
"Maybe you should," Alfons said.
"No, there's no need," Al disagreed fast. "I'm okay, just a bit nauseous. Maybe it was something I ate, for lunch at school or something. Mei said the cheese was a bit runny," he babbled. Truth was he hadn't eaten that much. He was probably focusing too much on the array and school work.
"Alright, I won't make you," Cotton said kindly and laid a hand on Al's forehead. "There's no fever, so I guess you'll be just fine once you eat."
"Thank you, Mr. Cotton," Alfons said, feeling unsure but also impatient to get some food into Al. "Shall we go, Al?"
Al nodded.
"Just call me if anything happens," Cotton offered as they went out the door, Al still swaying a bit and Alfons held onto his shoulder for support.
"I appreciate your concern," Alfons said. "I'll see you at work tomorrow, sir."
"Yes, we will. Take care, boys!"
As Cotton closed the door behind them, Alfons supported Al back up the stairs. "Are you sure you're alright, Alphonse?"
Al nodded. "Yeah." He felt a bit embarrassed. "I don't normally pass out on people."
Alfons chuckled. "No, so don't start now. I had to turn off the stove while I was out, but the dinner will be ready soon."
Al stomach made an appreciating sound. Maybe there had been something in that lasagne at lunch today that had backfired on him, but he felt a bit better now. He slipped down on the couch, soon accompanied by a furry, golden creature poking experimentally at his cheek.
"Hey kitten, did you miss me?" he smiled and petted her head. "You can stay here as long as you want."
Alfons smiled and continued with dinner. "It already seems quite attached to you, so I guess we wouldn't have had any choice anyway."
Al shifted onto his back and put the cat on his chest. The little, furry one lied down on him and purred, clawing at his shirt. "We need to go buy food for her."
Alfons nodded. "The grocery store doesn't close until nine, so we'll make it later."
Al sighed. "I have tons of homework, but I'll come with you anyway."
"Hmm," Alfons replied noncommittally. "Are you sure you're feeling well enough? Maybe you should stay at home and get it over with."
"I'm fine, and besides – some of the assignments are totally pointless," Al complained. "If alchemy had worked, I'd just make a stupid DNA-sculpture out of a plastic bag."
The cat agreed.
Alfons chuckled and scratched his forehead. "If you say so. We can go right after dinner so it won't be so late until we get back."
Al continued spoiling the kitten with attention. "What do you say, Goldy? Want to help me get distracted from homework later?"
Alfons smiled and rolled his eyes.
The days went leisurely by and Al had started to both accept and get used to his new routine. His new furry roommate was an encouragement whenever he felt like going to sleep straight after school. He knew he couldn't afford to do that. The month of February had finally begun, and the prime moon was getting closer.
The kitten had picked out Al's room as its favourite place in the house and Al would always find her lying sprawled out on his bed and waiting for him there when he got home from school. Then he would settle down with homework and then did as much as he needed to manage the deadlines, before switching over to work on his father's codes and the array. In the coding he found a lot of things he already knew because Edward had told him, but even so there were parts of it he found interesting.
If someone from the other, or the wrong, world performed alchemy, they would become unstable. They wouldn't be able to control their alchemy, and it would shorten the lifespan of the user. It made Al think about Dietrich, Zolf J. Kimblee's parallel person, and how he had wished to learn about alchemy. But he had also said that other people of this world could be able to do alchemy if struck by the source of energy caused by the Gate during the time it was destroyed. Had someone gotten struck by it? Did someone have the ability to do alchemy in this world, like him, perhaps without being aware of it yet? Or maybe they were aware of it, and waited for the prime moon just like him?
Dietrich had wanted him to help him find these people. Al wondered why. Was Dietrich planning to use them for something? Al wondered what was better, looking into it to be certain of the facts, or simply ignore it. The latter was the most tempting alternative. It would be hard to find someone like that. Al was curious of course, but what good would it do to find these 'chosen ones' anyway? Besides, risking that they used alchemy unknowing of what they were doing at all could be just as dangerous. If they knew of alchemy, they might only hurt themselves or others. What they didn't know couldn't hurt them.
He hoped neither he nor Dietrich would ever find anyone of these people.
It was Thursday and at lunch Ling had asked him to meet him in the gym hall after school. There wasn't any martial arts class today, so he wondered what Ling was up to. Al got dressed into his white training outfit and stepped into the dim gym hall. It was never used this late on a Thursday.
The lights came on and Al discovered Ling stepping out of the equipment room.
"Hello! Good you could come today, Alphonse."
Al hesitated. "To be honest, today it's quite a special day, so I can't stay too long."
"A special day?" Ling prodded.
Al shrugged. It was February 3rd. His brother's birthday. Not that there would be a party or anything, but he kind of wanted to be alone when he came home, take a break from homework, and finish the draft of the array to celebrate his brother's 19th birthday his own way.
Ling pouted at Al's silence. "Oh well, don't tell me then. I summoned you here to do some training of course. It won't take too long, I think. Depends how well you do."
"I figured it was something like that," Al said lightly. "Is this some sort of private lesson?"
"You could call it that, yes," Ling grinned and stopped in front of him. "It's been something I've wanted to try out with you for a while. You've improved a lot lately."
Al regarded him curiously. "Thanks, I guess."
"You know, ch'i doesn't just exist inside people, but everything that exists. Even the Earth itself has its own ch'i. This energy permeates everything we know and links the parts of our surroundings together. We use this energy for different purposes, not just in martial arts, but also for medical and other artistic purposes."
Al remembered Ling had mentioned that before. "You said ch'i could be used for healing, right?"
Ling nodded. "There's an explanation to why some people can heal physical and mental wounds with this energy." He pressed a finger at Al's shoulder. "The human body has some special, critical points all over, where your ch'i flows through. The main ones of these points function like floodgates and guide the energy around your body. If one of them gets damaged during a fight, your ch'i will struggle to flow properly and damage your system. A healer uses his or her own chi to fill the spot where the flood gate is damaged, which will cause the wound to heal faster."
Al touched his shoulder at the spot Ling had poked him, wondering if that place was one of these floodgates.
"You have to learn where all these points are," Ling said.
"I thought you said this wouldn't take long," Al commented drolly.
Ling chuckled. "That's right. We're going to do a small exercise. If you have improved on feeling my ch'i during our sparring, you should be able to feel your own even better by now. And if you manage to do that, you'll be able to know exactly where your own floodgate points are located."
"Why do I need to know that?" Al asked.
"Because, as your opponent, these points are my targets," Ling said. He went around Al and lifted a piece of black cloth, covering over his eyes and knotted the blindfold behind Al's head. All he could see now was simply black.
Al shifted nervously and swallowed. "What is this for?"
"Don't take it off." Ling took a hold around his arm and guided him across the floor until Al felt the layer of the training mat underneath his bare feet. Still he felt like he was going to hit a wall any second.
"Am I going to fight like this?" Al asked in disbelief. "That's impossible."
"No no, don't say that yet," Ling said, ever so cheerfully, and let go of him. "You're going to try reading my movements by reading my ch'i, and by knowing your own critical spots, you'll eventually be able to guess where I'll try to touch you."
"What?"
Ling laughed. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you, only touch you, like this." He poked Al in the shoulder.
Al jerked away, surprised. "Ouch!" It didn't actually hurt, but it felt stronger when it came totally unexpected. "I don't know if I can do this," he muttered.
"Get ready," Ling instructed, ignoring his disapproval. "Listen to my ch'i, I will give you a moment. When you feel that I'm going to attack, you simply dodge or block it."
"Is saying it like that supposed to make it sound easy?" Al asked dryly.
"Come on, give it a go," Ling pressed with mirth in his voice. "This is how you learn."
"Alright," Al nodded slowly and sank down into a defence position. "Wait a sec." He took a deep breath and tried to visualize Ling standing about two meters away from him, how he was getting ready to leap into an attack.
"Here I go," Ling said suddenly and Al tensed.
He tried to listen to Ling's steps, but knew that would be nearly impossible. Ling was always stepping soundlessly around, like he was walking on wind. Al had no idea if Ling was in motion or standing still, but guessed that he would try to go around him and come from behind at first. He whipped halfway around with his arms ready to block, and in the next second he felt a poke at his left leg. He turned again, knowing where Ling's front was now and made sure to not expose his back to him. But in the next moment, he felt a poke at his right arm.
He shot out his left arm to grab Ling's wrist, but he gripped only air, and then Ling was behind him, pressing a finger into his lower back. Al leaped away and turned again, staggering a bit before regaining his balance. "Ling, this is impossible," he bleated. "Even if I could sense your ch'i, I can't read your attack pattern like this." He was only used to read people by seeing their faces, but like this?
"Alright," Ling said. "Switch with me, I will show you."
Al straightened up in puzzlement and removed the blindfold. "Okay."
Ling took the blindfold and tied it around in own head, covering his eyes completely. Al was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to cheat, given that the cloth was pretty thick and wide.
When he was ready Ling nodded at him without going into any defence stance. "Come at me whenever you're ready."
"Alright." Al waited for a moment, experimentally circling around the older boy for a moment, trying to move as silently as he could. Ling simply stood there straight up and down. Al went for an attack from a bit of distance at first, and swung his leg up to hit Ling's shoulder, for kindness' sake avoiding aiming for his face in case he wouldn't dodge it.
But as his foot came closer, Ling reacted and ducked with one knee bent and the other leg straight out to the side to keep his balance and Al's foot swung right above his head. Al went for a closer ranged attack and attempted to poke Ling's chest, but Ling stood up fast and moved to the side, jumping over another instant aim for his calf from Al's leg, and then caught Al's wrist in the air as he tried to clap him on the shoulder.
Al took a deep breath. His attacks had been quite fast, still Ling had constantly dodged away or stopped his attacks. With one wrist still captured he swung his leg up towards Ling's face, not going easy on him this time. Ling swiftly lifted his other arm and blocked Al's leg with his forearm with enough strength to stop the force of Al's leg.
Al stared at him in awe. "How do you do that?"
Ling's mouth smirked. "I've told you. I'm reading the activity of your ch'i." He let go of Al's arm and dropped down on the mat, his legs crossed Indian style. "You think too much. You forget to focus on my ch'i."
Al dropped down as well and watched Ling untie the blindfold. "I'm not used to work with this kind of... energy I guess."
"What else is there?" Ling said. "Most people aren't even aware of it."
"Alchemy," Al said.
"Does alchemy have a connection to ch'i in your world?" Ling asked interested.
Al was still surprised how easy Ling had believed him in that department, without thinking that he was crazy. "I think ch'i is the same as the energy alchemists use to empower a transmutation," Al said. "We use that energy to deconstruct and reconstruct matter into something else."
"That is indeed interesting," Ling said in awe. "I wish it worked in this world too."
Al just shrugged.
"Was it possible to," Ling started slowly, "heal sickness with alchemy?"
"Not entirely, I think," Al replied. "Alchemy is still developing though, even if it has existed in my world for centuries, and it's used a lot in medical treatments, but it can't heal either a cold or cancer like it was nothing."
"What about wounds and such?"
Al nodded. "I closed a gunshot wound with alchemy once. It didn't heal it properly, but it avoided a life-threatening condition."
"Wow," Ling applauded. "That's pretty amazing! I wish I could see alchemy for real."
"That's impossible," Al lied. "If it had worked, I could've gone back to my world."
"Oh, I see." Abruptly Ling leaped up on his feet again. "Now, shall we try again?"
Al sighed through a smile. "If I have to."
Ling tied the blindfold back around Al's head, and he was again stranded in a darkness that felt claustrophobic on him, but he tried to ignore it. He took some new deep breaths as Ling stepped away and readied himself as well.
"On your signal," Ling said.
Al nodded. "Alright, go."
Ling's energy flow was close, and Al forcefully forgot everything about techniques and darkness, and focused on it. It was flowing from point to point inside its container like small, blue rivers of energy. Almost like the blue sparkles visualizing whenever he performed an alchemy transmutation.
He received some quick raps across his chest, his shoulders and whenever he reached to catch the attacker, he caught only air. Taking another deep breath, Al relaxed slowly and leaned forward on one leg, keeping his feet parted for balance. If he could only block one of these attacks, he would be satisfied.
He felt another poke behind his shoulder, trying not to let it make him lose his focus entirely. Suddenly he felt the flow grow stronger and one point, and he twisted halfway around and shot out his arm in defence, succeeding in catching Ling's wrist as it had attempted to hit his stomach.
"Well done!" Ling complimented. "You feel the difference? When you embrace what's within yourself, you can do almost anything." He smiled, looking proud.
"Yes," Al breathed out. "But I don't know if I'm able to do that again right now."
"Nah, this practise is tiring on both the body and the mind," Ling said. "That's why I said we wouldn't do this for too long. I think we can call it a day now."
Al stepped back and removed his blindfold, squinting a bit at the sharp light. "Tell me one thing, was it ch'i that told you I have more than one soul inside me?"
Ling nodded. "In a way, yes."
"Then how come Teacher and the students couldn't sense it?" Al asked.
Ling smiled a crooked smile. "Because, they've only learned to sense the ch'i of the body, not the ch'i of the soul." His smile faded. "And, there's not only Mr. Schiller I can sense. There's someone else too, but this one is faint. Not whole. He can't reveal himself."
"Do... Do you know if..." Al started hesitantly.
"What?"
"Do you know if he's alright? The faint one."
Ling slowly shook his head. "No, I can't tell."
Al nodded. At least he was still there somehow. Ed wasn't gone! That was better than nothing. "I see. It's... It's his birthday today. I need to get going."
Ling crossed his arms with a thoughtful expression and nodded. "Alright. I'll see you later, Al."
"Yeah. Bye Ling." Al headed for the wardrobe in a hurry and changed. He didn't know if being this honest with Ling was a good idea, but still he trusted the guy. It was nice to have someone else who knew – other than Alfons Heiderich. But when he thought about it, Alfons didn't really know about Schiller being conscious inside him. He wondered how Alfons would've reacted to that.
Was his brother really alright? Even if he had had to convince Alfons of that several times already, he still had to convince himself sometimes too. He wished his brother had been home already, waiting for him to tell him 'happy birthday'.
Al couldn't wait to get home and lock himself up, lie down in bed and either solve codes or sleep, accompanied by Goldy. She always showed that she had missed him whenever he got home.
He hurried out of the school area with his bag on his shoulder and continued down the street. The semi-dark sky was cloudy and grey like always, and the snow consisted in dirty piles everywhere.
He was about to pass by a shop when a boy came out, stopping in amused surprise by the sight of him, and Al stopped abruptly as well by instinct.
"Well, if it isn't the middle-schooler," Brad chuckled hollowly. He stepped down from the porch of the shop and blocked the way for Al. His friends came out of the store as well, grinning at him. Their breaths smelled of cigarettes and alcohol. The age limit didn't seem to have much effect on them.
Al glared at them and tried quietly to slip past Brad, but he moved to block for him every time he tried to get through.
Getting annoyed, Al glowered up at him. "What do you want? Leave me alone."
"I don't think so," Brad grinned. "Get him."
Al didn't realize that the last words had been directed to his friends, before he was attacked from behind and the guys grabbed a hold of his arms. Before he managed to struggle, the pulled him backwards, and Al was unable to keep himself up on his feet. "Hey, let me go!" He wriggled, realizing that they were pulling him into an empty alley next to the store.
With a short gasp, he was dropped down on the ground on his back and Brad followed by pressing his foot onto his chest while his friends removed Al's bag from him and started rummaging through it.
Al scowled and tried to knock Brad's leg off of him, but Brad moved to step on his right arm as well. The pain of the weight sent shivers of agony through his nerve system and made his vision swim for a moment. He was still pretty worn from the training session. Damn it!
Brad bent his knees down until he was sitting on top of Al's chest and pinned his elbows down on the snowy ground with his knees. "Why don't you just get the hell out of here, Elric?" he suggested callously. "No one wants a little German kid around, thinking that he's all smarter than everyone else, isn't that what you think you are?"
Al gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the pain. "You know nothing about me. Get off me." He tried to struggle free and lifted his head off the ground in attempt to get some leverage to twist out of the pinch, but only received a hard punch as a result and Al let his head drop back into the ground with a gasp, tasting the blood running from his nose.
"I know enough," Brad spat. "You don't deserve to be in that school, both you and that retarded bitch you're hanging around with."
Al felt his anger boil by hearing someone talking about Mei like that.
"I will make your life as miserable as I can, shrimp, and I'll enjoy every second of it." Brad grinned. "If you try to blab to anyone, I will do the same thing to your girlfriend."
Al gritted his teeth and struggled. It was like he had forgotten everything his teacher and Ling had ever taught him about keeping himself cool and read ch'i. All he could pull off was an Edward-like attitude of furious squirming. "There's absolutely nothing you can do to make my life miserable," Al gritted annoyed. "You might piss me off, but that's it. I still pity you for not having anything better to make use of your time."
Brad snorted. "We'll see. Goodnight."
Al received a hard blow against his head, and his conscious slipped the hold of his mind, into a black pit of darkness.
He woke up not too long after, feeling cold to the bones and hurting all over, realizing he was still lying in the alley. But he was alone now. He turned around on his side with a quiet groan and touched his aching nose. The blood had dried on his upper lip. A few meters away his bag lay upturned and his books lay thrown around in the snow.
Al shuddered as he crawled back up to his feet, feeling dizzy and nauseous. He gathered his books and stuffed them back into his bag. He had to dry them somehow when he got home, if they weren't already too ruined to be used. Brad's friends had taken the little amount of money he'd had on him, but that was the least of his concerns.
He staggered home, his mood down in the dumps. All he wanted to do was to close himself up and sleep. Brad pissed him off so much, he couldn't even begin to think! What the hell was wrong with this guy? From the first moment Al met him he had simply acted cruel to him without any particular reason. Maybe the reason why was simply that Al was small and looked weaker, and being German was obviously a bad thing as well, even if it wouldn't make any difference if he told them he wasn't.
This mess was all so stupid and unnecessary and was the last thing Al needed in the middle of all the school assignments and the worry he felt for his brother. Al felt like he needed his brother back now more than ever.
He reached home before he even knew it, stomped up the stairs, ripped open the front door and unthinkingly slammed it shut, still boiling in frustration.
Alfons showed up in puzzlement as Al kicked off his boots. "Al, is something wrong?"
"NO!" Al shouted.
Alfons stared sceptically at him. "Now you're lying." His eyes misted of worry as Al strode past him and headed for the bathroom. "Are you bleeding?"
"Yes," Al grated.
"Why?" Alfons stepped after him. "Did someone hurt you?"
"Just mind your own business and leave me alone, Alfons!" was the annoyed reply.
Alfons stopped confused as the bathroom door was slammed shut and he heard the sound of water running. Something had obviously happened. Despite that Al had been mad at him before, he rarely saw him this worked up and to such an extent that he let his problems out on him without telling him what was wrong. He sighed and crossed his arms. "Al, just tell me what happened."
"Nothing, okay?!"
Alfons leaned against the wall next to the bathroom door, wondering what to say. Nothing? That was just about as far from the truth as it could be.
"It... It was just this guy from school," Al muttered then, and Alfons frowned, slowly coming to understand.
A guy from school? Alfons had never thought of the prospect that there would be people at school Al didn't get along with. Just how serious was this? Did Al have trouble fitting in at school?
"Al, it's Edward's birthday today," Alfons said softly, kindly changing the subject.
"I know what day it is." The reply was still sharp.
"I made a cake," Alfons said. "I went off work an hour early. I wanted to surpr—"
The door went up abruptly and Al stomped out, the blood gone from his face but his cheek still looked a bit swollen. Fierce, bronze eyes stared up at Alfons, filled to the brim with unwanted tears and Al took a deep breath. "I'm NOT celebrating that my brother isn't here! Eat it yourself!" Then he disappeared into his room and slammed the door shut.
Alfons groaned and rubbed his eyes. Al was clearly having a very bad day. It didn't really make his either. The cat had hid itself underneath the couch the minute Al stomped through the front door, obviously sensing the bad atmosphere. Now she was peering out from her dark hiding spot for a bit and meowed.
Alfons stepped slowly to the couch and curved down on his knees, and carefully lured the cat out. Knowing how much Al had gotten attached to this cat, it seemed only natural that she was the only one who could cheer him up a bit. Alfons picked her up and muttered: "Sorry kitten, but I'm leaving this one to you." He stepped quietly over to Al's door. It didn't have a lock on it, so he opened the door carefully and peered in through the crack.
Al lied on his bed on his stomach with his face buried into the pillow. He must have heard that the door opened, but neither of them spoke. Alfons put the curious cat down on the floor inside Al's room and gently closed the door. Maybe Al would be in the mood for some cake later.
The life he had gotten so far in this world played before Al's eyes.
The first snowfall of impossible change. Familiar faces of people he didn't know. New nightmares to challenge sleep. New friends to feel safe with. New enemies to haunt him.
Now he was feeling like he couldn't accomplish anything anymore. Just because he had let someone from his class get through to him.
Al looked up from his pillow by the sound of a low mewing, and the golden cat leaped up on the bed next to him.
Ling had taught him that when embracing what lied within, the potential would become limited. The future was filled with promises, but he didn't know if they would be kept. The present was filled with expectations from him that he'd taken upon himself. And whenever he denied his instincts, and struggled against his deepest urge, the uncertainty began. It was eating at him.
Could he bring his brother back? When would this be over? Was the ability of alchemy in this world a gift or a curse? The most important question of all... Was it really possible to change what was real?
The cat snuggled into the crook of his elbow and lied down close to him, close to his beating heart. Al closed his eyes and calmed down. Deep breaths. Since when did he let such simple matters come in the way of what really mattered? He couldn't start to doubt himself now.
"Brother," he whispered. "When you get back, we'll eat Alfons' cake."
He hoped Al was feeling a bit better. Meanwhile, he was resting against the counter on the kitchen, staring at the cake. It was chocolate cake. He had promised Edward to make one for him countless of times, but he had never gotten the chance. He wished he had gotten some time for it before they got separated. He realized, he didn't even know what Edward's favourite cake was.
He turned around and leaned his palms against the counter, letting out a quiet sob. "I miss you so much," he whispered. His eyes fell on the calendar over the stove. Twenty days left.
Twenty days.
The presence was there before he could even recognize it, brushing against his back and wrapped its invisible arms around him from behind, breathing softly against his neck.
Alfons stiffened, eyes widening. "Edward?"
"Thanks for the cake," Edward's voice murmured inside his heart.
Tears welled up in Alfons' eyes as he turned around, seeing Edward's soul standing there and smiling softly at him.
"You're back," Alfons whispered. "I haven't seen you since..."
"I know," Edward said. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to reach you lately."
"No, listen," Alfons said fast, not wanting to say this, but he had to. "You have to stop coming here."
Edward frowned at him.
"The Gate was torturing you... I can't stand knowing you'll get hurt, I feel it in my nightmares," Alfons whispered, droplets of silent tears falling from his eyes. "Can you promise me, don't go up against the Gate. I don't want you to get hurt even more."
Edward was staring thoughtfully at him. "But... I don't care about that. I want to see you and Al whenever I can."
"I know, but it isn't safe... I'll make another promise to you as well," Alfons said, smiling softly. "The next time we see each other, it'll be real."
Twenty days…
"How can you be so sure?" Edward asked, sounding slightly concerned at those words.
"Trust us," Alfons said, lifting a hand and pressed against Edward's chest, only to find out that his hand was slipping right through him. "In twenty days," he whispered, "we'll see each other again for real."
Edward mused for a moment, taking the words in. "I like that promise," he finally said. "I guess it's a deal."
Alfons sighed and hugged around the ghost of Edward. He would never see him in this form ever again. It hurt, but it was for the best.
Edward's ghostly lips met his, and they kissed goodbye, hopefully for the last time, and Alfons whispered quietly: "Happy birthday, Edward."