Hey, you guys, my lovelies. This story reached 100 reviews and you're all so awesome! Thank you so much! But I gotta tell you, honestly, I'm struggling with writing this story. You can probably tell, especially if you've been reading since the first chapters came out – years ago! As we speak I am writing chapter 15, so the posted chapters are catching up to the ones that aren't yet written.
I'm still determined to finish, and I really appreciate that you're still rooting for this, but I will need some encouragement to do it. Every small comment counts, so please let me know what you think at the bottom of this page! Again, thank you all and enjoy this next chapter!
CHAPTER 13: INJUSTICE
The following day, going to school was the last thing he felt like doing, but still Al went anyway. He couldn't afford to miss any classes and besides, he didn't want Brad to think that he was successfully making his life miserable. Brad wasn't worth any of Al's concern, Al tried to convince himself of that. He had much more important things to worry about! However, he failed to keep a low profile the minute he ran into Mei in the hall, because she became immediately frantic by the look on his injured face from yesterday. He successfully managed to shrug it all off since the time was short before class started.
In Chemistry class Professor Kiehle handed the students back their periodic table test.
"The result was highly disappointing," the Professor stated crossly. "I expected more from you. Only a couple of you sniffed towards an A. There will be as a new test tomorrow, on the subject of today and I expect at least half of you to get one grade higher than you did today."
The class groaned in disapproval.
Al got his paper back and Kiehle went past him even without offering him a single acknowledging look. Al remembered how Professor Kiehle had challenged him to be less of a slacker than his brother, though he couldn't really picture Edward as much of a slacker when it came to school work. His brother was simply too smart for that. Al stared down at the A- on his paper and smiled a crooked smile. Every question and the elements plotted into the periodic table had gotten a point, so he didn't really know what the reason for the minus was. Oh well.
Mei had her cards spread over her desk and hadn't looked at her grade yet. She picked up a card and sighed. "The wheel of fortune can go both ways. I don't feel that lucky today though."
Al snapped her paper from her desk and looked at it. "For once you're wrong. You got an A- too. Just for the record, I don't think professor Kiehle gives anyone a straight A."
Mei glanced at him worriedly, still not entirely convinced that he was all right, but seemed to let the matter go for now. She thoughtfully took her paper back and stared at the front page. "I think you're right." She beamed at him. "I'm better at reading you than myself."
Al wondered about that as Professor Kiehle ordered the class to become quiet and went on with the lecture.
At lunch he settled down with Ling since he was sitting by a table, fortunately eating his own food this time. He grinned at him and waved. "Wow, Al, have you been in a fight?"
Al guessed people would be referring to his blue eye and split lip for some time from now on, and dropped down on his seat with a small sigh. "I don't want to talk about it," he mumbled.
"Don't tell me there were the same meanies I saved you from at the time we met?" Ling asked, feigning confusion that Al had come out of it in such state. "I know how strong you are by now, you could easily have taken them down."
Al lowered his voice. "There's a reason why I can't, though I didn't actually let them beat me up either." He muttered in addition: "Besides, they took me off-guard."
"Why can't you?" Ling asked. "Are you specially trained or something?" He leant back on his chair with a thoughtful expression. "Or maybe you are some kind of secret weapon?"
Al rested his cheek in his palm and sighed. Funny joke. "Do I look like it?"
Ling chuckled. "Not really. But, not many people your age are as good in sparring as you are."
"Izumi Curtis actually reminds me a lot of my old teacher," Al said with a secretive smile and Ling shuddered.
"She's a tough woman," he agreed. "But the headmistress is even worse."
Al lifted his eyes and gave Ling a quizzical look.
"Olivier Mira Armstrong. She has military background," Ling explained. "Very rare for a woman, and she has taught at the Officer's school. She has made grown up men run crying home to their mothers."
"I don't doubt it," Al mumbled.
Mei joined them with her tray a couple of seconds later. "Hello Ling Yao."
"Hi Mei Chang. Read anything new lately?" Ling smirked.
"I will soon," Mei replied and picked up her fork to try out the spaghetti. "Kind of interesting, isn't it?"
"I think it is. Do you mind reading me again?" Ling asked eagerly.
Mei sent him a suspicious look, but before she could reply someone else spoke up.
"And what do we have here?" a familiar voice said behind Al, and Al immediately knew who.
Ling sighed. "Terrific. Hey Mei, did you just pick a card called the King of idiots?"
"This is none of your concern, squinty-eyes," Brad returned. "I need a word with the middle-schooler and maybe add another decoration to his little baby face."
Al turned around and gave them a hard stare. They had literally mugged him and left him unconscious in an alley yesterday. He was far from comfortable, knowing that they owned no sense of moral. He wasn't really used to this sort of offence from people his age. No one had dared to pick on him while he was a soul in a suit of armour, or at primary school where Edward would've beaten whoever's face in if they tried.
Now it was different. He was on his own. Sometimes he wished he could just use his brother's sense of reason and simply beat them up. But Al wasn't like that, albeit he wouldn't accept the offense either. He had his pride too.
Al rose from his chair before neither of them could say anymore and straightened himself up in front of Brad and his friends, even if his height didn't match theirs by far. "Whatever you want with me, bring it."
In light surprise, Brad and his friends chuckled in mirth. "You volunteer to get beaten up, kid?"
"Stay out of trouble, Al," Ling said serenely from across the table behind him. "The headmistress isn't very tolerant to these kinds of things."
Al didn't listen to him. "I'm not just a kid," he addressed Brad. "I'm tired of dealing with people like you, so let's get it over with once and for all. If you beat me, I'll do whatever you want."
Brad's eyes broadened and shone with amusement. "Sounds good to me."
"But if you can't, you'll leave us alone," Al finished. He had an idea. Kind of. He just hoped it would work and he'd finally be left alone from these guys.
Brad didn't even wait to say they had an agreement. He swung his fist fast towards Al's face, and Al steeled himself as he saw the punch coming. Instead of dodging, he took the punch straight on and the sound of the encounter echoed in his ears and made his blood pound. His head got flipped to the side, but he was able to remain standing.
Ling quickly rose to his feet. "Hey!" He actually sounded angry. "And Al, don't be an idiot. If you think I'm going to get myself into trouble just because of your foolishness, please reconsider."
Al had taken punches from grown up men before. He had felt much worse strikes than this. Still it hurt terribly because his face had already been sore from yesterday. His lip tasted of blood as Brad pulled his fist back, looking awfully pleased with himself. Still, he seemed aware of that Al might have been able to dodge it if he had wanted to, and his eyebrows narrowed a bit in puzzlement, like he was trying to figure out was Al was really up to.
"No, you stay out of this, Ling," Al replied calmly. He spit out some blood on the floor and steeled himself again. His head throbbed a bit, but it wasn't too bad. He could still fight this guy. Even if it had hurt, this guy was messy and lacked proper dexterity. He hadn't learned to fight properly like Al had. He was simply a bully.
"Is that all?" Al addressed Brad. "I might be smaller, but I won't be beaten by one hit."
Brad gnarled at him, but then a big grin played across his face. "You're asking for this, so you're going to get it." Brad went into another attack with his fist, but this time Al dodged it with ease. Looking annoyed, the older boy laid down more strikes, but each time Al moved to the side in the last millisecond, avoiding damage.
Ling sent him an uncertain look from his stance by the lunch table, seeming to not be able to agree with himself in whether or not he should join the fight.
Brad made a new attempt to strike Al, but this time Al caught his fist with his left hand and swung his knee into his right rib. Brad gnarled in annoyance and addressed his friends. "What are you just standing there for? Hold him down!"
With two other guys joining in on the fight, Al let go of Brad and tried to concentrate on three sets of ch'i, not only one. Around them the students in the cafeteria had rose from their seats and stared both in excitement and anxiety at the scene playing out in the middle of the room.
Brad and his two friends charged at Al all at once, and Al immediately took action. He dodged the first attack, blocked the next and kicked to the side before the third attack came.
Ling stepped around the table, ready to forget everything about rules and assist Al, but his arm was held back. He turned around in annoyance, seeing Mei still sitting by the table with her cards sprawled out in front of her, one of them turned up.
"You shouldn't do that," Mei said.
Ling raised his eyebrows. "Why not? You want Al to get expelled?"
"It's okay," Mei said. "I don't think he'll be expelled."
"You don't think?" Ling groaned.
Mei smiled a knowing smile. "Just look." She held out the card she had picked out for Ling to see, but somehow he didn't feel reassured. The figure on the card held a double-edged sword against his own forehead.
"Justice, eh?" Ling muttered.
Al shot an elbow behind him, hitting one of Brad's friends right in the face, and the guy stumbled backwards, bleeding from the nose. Before the other two could even touch him, Al went down on bent knees and shot out a leg that tripped the other guy off his feet.
Finally there was only him and Brad left standing. Suddenly he saw the small thing in Brad's eyes he had been looking for. Uncertainty. Brad was starting to wonder if he had anything to gain from this fight, realizing that Al could stand up a lot better for himself than even he could. But it also pissed him off, how that small brat was better than all of them in everything.
Just when Al thought Brad might really give it up, the taller boy charged again, aiming for his gut. Al leaped out of the way, but caught Brad's arm as he moved and twisted it while kicking the inside of his right knee, forcing Brad's knees to hit the ground. Al still had his left arm free, but he had no intention to go further. He didn't want to use his fists against students. No matter how far over the line they crossed.
"That's enough!" a voice ordered firmly. "Break it up, boys."
Al calmly let go of Brad and stepped back. He was caught by the neck by an older man, and immediately recognized him as Professor Kiehle. The Professor caught Brad with his other hand and squeezed so tight that both of them arched their heads back.
"This behaviour is unacceptable for the lot of you," Kiehle scolded angrily. "I will make sure this won't go by unpunished. All four of you, to the headmistress' office. Now."
It was a busy day at the factory and Alfons was working together with another young assistant of the team he had been assigned to. They were operating from one of the higher levels of the scaffolding next to one of the rockets when he was called by Oscar Cotton from below.
"Alfons, I need you to get down from there," Cotton shouted to be heard over all the other noise inside the factory.
Alfons got up to his feet and leaned over the railing. "Okay, I'll be right there!"
He got a pat on the shoulder from his working partner as he turned to climb down the steel ladder. "Thanks for showing me those techniques, Alfons," he said. "It was different, but a lot easier."
"No problem, Joe," Alfons answered and got down from the scaffold and turned to Cotton, wondering what he wanted with him.
"There's a call for you," Cotton said, a bit of concern written in his voice.
Immediately Alfons turned alarmed as well. He didn't know anyone who was likely to give him a call, least of all at the factory. "For me? Who is it?"
"It's from Alphonse's school," Cotton replied. "You better take it quick."
Al's school? That was the last thing Alfons had expected. Was Al in some kind of trouble? He hurried towards the office to find out what this was all about. He cleaned his throat and picked up the phone receiver.
"Hello, this is Alfons Heiderich."
"Mr. Heiderich, I'm Clara, I'm calling regarding your little brother," a concerned female voice said in the other end.
"What's wrong?" Alfons asked. "Has anything happened to him?" His heart was quickening in his chest. Please, don't let it be anything serious, or he'd never forgive himself.
"I'm sorry for this, but I'm afraid I have to ask you to come over here. The headmistress wishes to meet with you regarding something that happened at school today."
Alfons was completely taken aback. "A-Alright, I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Main entrance, 7th floor," Clara said.
"Thanks, goodbye." Alfons put down the phone slowly, before quickly running out of the office. On the way out he met Oscar.
"I'm sorry, sir, I have to go," Alfons said apologetically. "I can work overtime tomorrow."
"It's alright," Oscar said. "Keep your little brother out of trouble."
"I'm trying," Alfons muttered. "Thank you, sir."
It took him almost an hour to get to the high school. On the way he took every short cut he could calculate out of his familiarity with the big city, and as he reached the entrance gate he was sweaty and out of breath. The school area looked empty and abandoned; most of the students were probably in class right now. He hurried towards the main entrance of the school, feeling deeply worried. Al better not be hurt!
He found an elevator and tried to calm himself down while riding up the levels of the building. Al couldn't be seriously hurt, or else he wouldn't have been called to the office. Maybe he had done something wrong? Alfons had a hard time imagining that as well. The elevator ride felt like an eternity, and he allowed himself a deep breath as it finally stopped on the 7th floor. The doors opened and he stepped out, stepping through a transparent door to the right and found himself by a reception desk.
The woman rose as she saw him with a light smile. Her nametag said she was the woman he had spoken to on the phone. "You must be Alfons Heiderich, Alphonse's brother."
Alfons cleared his throat and easily dropped all formalities. "What happened? Is Al okay?"
"He's waiting for the headmistress to see him. I will take you to him," Clara said. "Just follow me."
"Thanks." Alfons followed her to a door further down the hall which seemed to be an office, and she knocked on the wooden surface.
"Yes, come in," a voice called from the other side, and Alfons frowned by the nostalgic sound of that voice. Where had he heard it before?
Clara opened the door and spoke to the man inside. "Alfons Heiderich is here, Professor."
"Good, I'll take it from here, Miss Becker."
She nodded and gestured to Alfons to walk past her inside, and Alfons stepped into the small office. She closed the door behind him and he was left staring at a man standing by his desk, and a chair in front of the desk occupied by Alphonse.
Alphonse wasn't looking at him, rather miserably down at the floor while holding a white cloth against his nose, and Alfons's eyes lifted to the man he immediately recognized. He gasped. His heart started to race in his chest, but not in the good way, and he felt how the colour disappeared from his face and how the hairs on his neck rose in terror. Before him stood the parallel person of the man who had tormented and abused him back in the other world. Even if he knew that, it was hard to think of this as a different person. Even harder was it to block out the sudden flush over fresh memories visualizing in his mind, and how the voice he had struggled to forget sounded so real.
It felt like a long time ago, yet he remembered everything clear as day. Despite how much he tried to forget. No, no... Alfons clutched his eyes tightly. Go away. You're not in this world. You don't exist anymore.
"Mr. Heiderich," Kiehle's voice said. "It's nice to see you again. How have you been?" He stepped closer, his hand outstretched to greet him.
Alfons automatically backed right into the door, his eyes wide and his tongue unable to form words. Al straightened up on the chair and frowned at him, noticing the abnormality of his reaction.
Kiehle stopped, looking unsure. "Is something wrong?"
"Give me a reason not to just kill you right now."
Alfons kept his eyes closed for another moment. Calm down, you're too obvious. You're ruining everything. You're being pathetic!
"No, sir," Alfons opened his eyes and cleared his throat, plastering on a smile. "I was surprised to see you, Professor. The pleasure is mine." He stepped forward and shook the hand the man was offering him while politely bowing his head. "I've taken your teachings into good use." This was his old professor from the University in Romania, not the Brigadier General from Amestris. He repeated that in his head a few times.
"I'm delighted to hear," Professor Kiehle said. "I was surprised myself, when I discovered Edward Elric's little brother in my class."
Alfons straightened again and made sure to keep his smile on. "Can I ask, what are you doing here, Professor? Why aren't you teaching rocket science anymore?"
Professor Kiehle closed his eyes and chuckled softly. "It was a complicated choice, Alfons. Believe me, I consider myself both lucky and degraded at my current location. And I could ask you the same. I know you were established in Munich to follow your ambitions. But obviously, you're not working for your own country anymore."
Alfons fidgeted a bit. "That was a complicated choice as well."
"I fully understand," Kiehle said. "The German government is up to something. They offered me a position any scientist could only dream of, but I said no. The next thing I know, someone was after my life and I had to run away."
Alfons' eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"Don't worry about it, I'd rather think of myself if I were you," Kiehle said trivially. "If they find out where you are and what you're doing, they'll probably come to ensure that you aren't giving away precious material."
Alfons felt his heart skip a beating. Oscar Cotton had said the same thing. Just what exactly had he gotten himself into without knowing?
"Anyway, let's drop that subject for now," Kiehle continued authoritatively. "You're here because Alphonse Elric stepped far over the line at school today."
Al immediately went back from studying their faces during the grave conversation, to stare down to the floor again.
Alfons let his eyes wander to him, but couldn't read anything from him of the way he was averting his eyes. His face was a bit swollen and there were stains of blood on the white cloth he had held against his nose. "What happened?" he asked worried.
"He picked a fight in the middle of the cafeteria," Professor Kiehle said austerely. "That sort of behaviour strictly goes against one of the main rules and reputation of this school."
Al picked a fight? Alfons kept staring perplexed at Al. It didn't sound like something Al would do.
"The headmistress is currently questioning the offended side of the quarrel," Kiehle explained.
"Sir, that's hardly fair," Al suddenly said, standing up to his feet. "I'm not the one who started it."
Kiehle raised a hand, which made Alfons flinch. "Sit down!" he addressed Al. "I'm not going to listen to excuses from you. Your turn will come when the headmistress is ready to see you."
Al groaned and flopped down on the chair again. He sent Alfons a slightly pleading look behind Kiehle's back, and Alfons could hardly even begin to understand how he had ended up in this position. He wasn't even Al's real brother, and here he was standing in the position of his... parent? Or guardian? It was a bit hard to grasp. But he was the closest one Al had. If anything, he was Al's only possible guardian.
Still, even if he had known Professor Kiehle from before, being around him now made him tremble. He knew this wasn't the same person as the Brigadier General, but he couldn't help visualising the Professor in the blue military uniform, ready to backhand him. Luckily the Professor hadn't noticed him flinch. This was so messed up!
Suddenly the door knocked and Clara stuck her head back inside. "The headmistress is ready to see them now, sir."
"Thank you," Professor Kiehle said and turned to Alfons. "It was nice seeing you again, Alfons. Miss Clara will show you the way."
Alfons nodded. "Thanks." He turned to Al who slipped off his chair and walked sullenly past him to follow after Clara.
"Depending on your punishment, this better not repeat, Elric," the Professor warned.
With a muttered "yes sir," Al shuffled out the door. Alfons followed after him, trying to shake off the sickened feeling in his stomach. Al didn't remember how the Brigadier General in the other world had really been like. He had intentionally not filled him in on that one. His heart sank a little as he thought about how Alphonse had devotedly supported him at that time, and that he kind of wished that Al remembered it for the sake of their friendship. Still, there was no point telling him. He could handle these feelings alone. He had nothing to fear from Kiehle anymore. All he had to do was to push those memories away, like nightmares that hadn't been real. He could do that.
Clara showed the way to the far end of the corridor to the headmistress' office. "She's expecting you both," she said and knocked on the door two times before entering. Al stepped into the room in a hesitant pace, followed by Alfons.
The headmistress Olivier Mira Armstrong rose from her desk and stepped around it in a strict manner. "Good you could come, Mr. Heiderich. I'm headmistress Armstrong."
Alfons shook her hand, surprised by the firm grip, but didn't let it show on his face. "Nice to meet you, ma'am," he said, though he still wondered about the details. She looked serious.
"Sit down, both of you," she ordered, and Alfons almost got the feeling he had done something wrong as well. He sat down next to Al on the couple of chairs standing in front of the desk and the headmistress sat down behind the desk again.
"I have to admit that I hesitated with accepting you into this school when you applied, Alphonse," she started, cold, blue eyes directed at Al. "You seemed too young, but despite that I made an exception. So far your grades are exceptional, already showing yourself to be one of the best among the other freshmen." Looking annoyed, she rubbed a deep furrow sitting over her left eyebrow. "That is one of the reasons I got furious when I heard of this incident. Do you have something to say for yourself, Alphonse?"
Al stared flustered at her and wondered if she knew everything that had happened, or just what it had looked like from Professor Kiehle's point of view. Or Brad's.
"I was standing up for myself," Al said defensively. "They got what they deserved."
"The way I understand, you provoked a fight and let your classmate hit you first to have an excuse to use your skill in martial arts against them," Armstrong said.
Al was about to argue, but stopped himself. Wasn't that kind of true? But if he had attacked right away, he would've gotten all the blame anyway. And if he had done nothing, he'd probably be at the hospital by now. No matter what, Al didn't manage to swallow the lump of pride in his throat and stayed silent. He refused to be some defenceless victim of some stupid bullies!
"Al, is that true?" Alfons asked. He couldn't really imagine Al provoking someone into a fight. Something was wrong about this picture, but Al didn't say anything against it.
"I guess," Al muttered.
"How diplomatic of you," Armstrong said unimpressed. "To be honest, I don't really care what happened. This behaviour is not tolerated at my school regardless of the circumstances, and normally I would've expelled you right on the spot."
Al gasped and stared up at her in shock at that. Expelled? Forever?
"However, for students we see have a real potential, we have other ways of punishment. This school is serious and professional, where no student will get away unpunished for breaking the rules. I needed your guardian with us here today to let him know that this school uses a method of punishment where the students have a guarantee to be coaxed into obedience."
Al thought those words sounded strange, and so did Alfons.
"What kind of punishment are we talking about?" Alfons asked hesitantly.
"The paddle, Mr. Heiderich. The count of strokes depends on the level of disobedience for each student. Alphonse has broken one of our most important rules. Practised violence against another student. The fact that Alphonse has been taught how to fight and misused it only makes the situation more severe."
Paddle...? Al's grip tightened around the armrests of the chair to keep himself from shaking. He could hardly believe what he had heard. Were they planning to beat him? Because he was in the martial arts class?
Alfons looked uneasy as well, but successfully hid it. "I understand."
Al stared at him with wide eyes. Was Alfons just going to sit there and let them beat him? He had been beaten before. His back was scarred from it. That was one of the memories he would've chosen to lose, but still remembered more clearly than anything else. The anticipation of what would happen but never knowing when, the pain shooting up his spine, the inability to suppress the screams...
He didn't want to go through something like that again. Not for something as silly as a small fight in the cafeteria.
Desperately, Al addressed Alfons. "Don't let them do this to me."
Alfons froze. Al had spoken in German.
"They would've picked a fight with me nonetheless, it was the only way I could come up with that could make them leave me alone," Al went on in the language the headmistress likely didn't understand. "I'll rather be expelled than experiencing something like that again..."
Olivier Mira Armstrong stared strictly at Al with her arms crossed. But she didn't interrupt.
"I'm sorry, Al," Alfons said apologetically, answering in German. "This isn't exactly easy for me to say, but you made a choice and now there's a consequence for it. If you want to drop out instead, you should tell her that." He felt strange saying this.
Al stared at him in shock, eyes blank of disbelief. "No! And you know I wouldn't break these rules without a good reason behind it. I can't believe you're actually accepting this." He took a deep, angry breath. "My brother wouldn't have let them do this to me. He would've understood."
Alfons winced. Edward...
Edward would've already been on his feet and shouted out in anger to defend his brother. He would've asked them to punish him instead, to spare Al the pain. Al was right. Alfons knew Al. He wouldn't have used violence against anyone who was innocent. But why couldn't he just tell the whole truth? Maybe the headmistress would've been more humble.
Alfons realized, if he let the school punish Al like this, Edward would be mad at him. Really mad. He had promised Edward to protect Al. That meant, not let anything bad happen to him. And here he was going to let Al get hurt by authorities because of a misunderstanding? There had to be another way.
"Okay, you're right. But you have to tell her everything," Alfons said, still in German. "That incident wasn't a coincidence, right? You've acted strange lately, don't think I haven't noticed. I understand now. They've bothered you several times, but you're too proud to acknowledge it as a real problem compared to what you've been through before, and look at where we are now. This is a real problem too even if it isn't about a life threatening situation. I don't want them to punish you, I know this isn't your fault. But you have to be honest, or else I can't help you." This was typical Edward-behaviour actually. He'd noticed that Al was becoming more and more like his big brother lately.
Al stared at him with wide eyes for a long time. Then he let his shoulders sink and sighed. "Alright," he said, this time in English.
"I understand," Olivier Mira Armstrong said, in German, and both Al and Alfons jumped. The headmistress smiled a crooked smile. "They told me it would be useful to know the language of our enemy during the Great war, and it seems they were right."
Al stared down in the floor, feeling a bit ashamed.
"If Brad Connors has acted like this for this long, I will see to it that he's questioned and taken care of thereafter," Armstrong said in a firm tone, her eyes cold and sincere. "For this time, I will not use the paddle on you, Alphonse. After all, I judge with my own two eyes."
Al took a deep breath, but was careful not to be too relieved. It didn't seem over yet, and he was right.
"However," Armstrong continued, "don't think you will get away unpunished for sending two students to the hospital wing. There's still the issue of you being trained and knowledgeable in fighting when your classmates weren't. That's why; I see no other option than to remove you from the martial arts class."
Al gaped. His favourite class... "I- I can't go to the class anymore?" Al asked. "Ever?"
"No," Armstrong said. "If I ever see you perform any kind of martial arts at this school again, I will expel you from the school. Is that clear?"
Al cringed a bit. This sucked. "Y-Yes, ma'am."
"Good. That's all for today." Olivier Mira Armstrong rose from her chair. "You're free to go."
Al rose without another word and headed for the door. Alfons rose as well and bowed politely to the headmistress. "Thank you for understanding," he said.
The small, crooked smile returned to the edge of her lip. "You're welcome."
The walk back to their apartment was accompanied by a strange and somewhat awkward silence. They went side by side, hands in their pockets and merely listened to the calm breeze playing with snowflakes. Al was still both shocked and relieved by the outcome of the meeting, but had to face that the punishment he had gotten was better than facing the paddle. He guessed he owed Alfons thanks yet again, even if he disliked the thought that he wouldn't be able to attend another martial arts lesson again.
They were almost home when the older boy decided to break the silence.
"Are you alright?" Alfons asked softly. "You were bleeding a bit."
"It's nothing serious," Al replied. "I've been through worse."
"Glad you're okay," Alfons said.
"Sorry you had to leave work because of this," Al muttered. "It was stupid."
"Hey, Al," Alfons said and stopped. "Those kids who were bothering you, will they do it again?"
Al shrugged. "I don't really want to bother myself with them. They annoy me, but they're not worth it."
Alfons suddenly took a hold of his arm, holding him back from walking. "If they do something like that again, I want you to tell me."
Al turned back and smiled. "What, are you going to beat them up for me?" he joked.
"Something like that," Alfons beamed softly. "That's what Edward would've done, right?"
"True, but we both know my brother's ways aren't always the best ones."
Alfons let go of his arm and drew his eyes away. "You're right there."
They came back inside their apartment a couple of minutes later and were greeted by a playful, golden cat.
Al brightened up by the sight of her and picked her up. "How are you, Goldy? Did you miss me?"
The cat meowed.
"She says you forgot to feed her this morning," Alfons joked.
"I did not!" Al dropped down on the couch while cuddling with the attention sick animal. "She says you're stupid."
Alfons sighed as he stepped to the kitchen counter to make some tea. "Oh well, if the cat says so."
Al grinned, but after a second his smile disappeared as he remembered something from earlier. The reaction Alfons had shown as he entered Professor Kiehle's office had been far from normal. He wondered about that, and decided to ask. "You've known Professor Kiehle for a long time, haven't you?"
Alfons put the kettle on the stove and froze. "Since I started University. Why?"
"You knew his parallel person too?"
"I—," Alfons faltered. "Yes, I did."
Al stared at him, waiting for him to say something more. Alfons had obviously had a bad experience with one of them that had scared him, and somehow Al just knew it hadn't been the Professor. In his world, Kiehle had been a Brigadier General and a rival of Colonel Roy Mustang. Al remembered him as a creepy and arrogant man who wanted as much power he could get his hands on. While Alfons had lived in Amestris, he had worked with the military together with Edward, so it made sense that he knew the man. But what had happened between them?
Alfons turned to him, aware of what he wanted to ask. "Al, you don't remember and you don't have to remember it."
"Yes, I do!" Al countered. "I thought you said you wanted to help me fill in all of the holes in my memories. You know they won't come back otherwise."
"But these are my memories too and I envy you that you're the one who doesn't remember them," Alfons retorted suddenly, his voice a lot harsher than he had first intended.
Al shut up by the sudden outburst and watched Alfons take a deep breath, mutter an apology and quickly trail into his bedroom. Al lowered his gaze to the cat in his lap and rested his back against the armrest of the couch. He hadn't really meant to pry. But if he had known about it before, why couldn't he know it now?
"What?! You're kidding me now, right?"
Ling stared at Al in shock across the lunch table at school on the next day. Next to Al, Mei was sitting with a calm expression and eating her sandwich like the Chinese boy hadn't just gotten half of his own sandwich stuck in his throat during his outburst.
"I'm sorry, but that's how it is," Al muttered. "I'm banned from the martial arts class."
"But I was teaching you," Ling pouted. "Why didn't you just take the paddle?" Al gave him a sharp look at that and Ling tried to laugh it off. "Just kidding," he excused and waved his hands. His slanted eyes went into a serious mode again as Al continued to eat. "So, what are you going to do instead then? You only picked one option."
"I don't know," Al said monotonously.
"You can take French with me," Mei suggested.
Ling snorted. "How gaudy."
"Gaudier than martial arts?" Mei reflected.
"Exactly, because like you just said; it's art," Ling emphasized.
"Sure, a vile one that just got Al into trouble," Mei huffed.
"According to stupid school rules, that doesn't mean it didn't come in handy," Ling pointed out. "And that is less important than being a snob?"
"French is almost equally handy as knowing English," Mei countered.
"Then he might as well learn Chinese, most people live in China," Ling quarrelled back, and Al let his face sink deeper into his hands as the point of the whole subject seemed just more and more insignificant. He seemed to be forgotten about already.
"Al just has to find something else for an option, and that's that," Mei concluded.
But Ling didn't drop the subject that easily. "I said, stupid school rules. All rules can be bended, right Al?"
"What do you mean?" Al asked suspiciously.
"We can still train," Ling said eagerly. "We can do it after class as usual, no one would ever know."
Mei stared sceptically at him. "It's safe for you to do it, but if the teacher finds out about it Al will be expelled."
"Mei's right," Al muttered. "I can't risk being expelled for such a stupid reason."
"You call martial arts class stupid?" Ling pouted again. "You want to learn how to control your ch'i, or not?"
Al sighed. He wanted to. It would be useful for the transmutation, and making that transmutation successful meant everything to him. But still, there was the risk of getting into some serious trouble.
"I know what you're thinking," Ling said. "So how about I put it like this: How much do you believe in Mei's fortunes?"
Al sent him a quizzical look before looking at Mei. "I guess, I believe in her. So far, she's never been wrong."
"Good," Ling said. "So she can predict whether or not it will be safe to practise, let's say, for example after class today?"
Al thought about it, and couldn't really believe that he actually thought about it. What if she was wrong for once?
"I don't really know about that," Mei said. "I can't completely control which situation I'm actually reading. It's easier to read people in general and see the situation's occurrence afterwards."
"Then, is Al in general in luck today?" Ling pressed eagerly.
Mei sent Al an uncertain look, but Al had had enough time to dwell and nodded. "Let me pick a card again," he requested.
"Okay, if you want to," Mei said. She spread her cards on the lunch table, in the usual half circle.
Al let his hand slowly glide over each card, though he hadn't even gotten to the end of the row before his hand heated up and suddenly, out of the blue, a tiny blue spark shot up from one of the cards. The three of them jumped, and Al gasped out. What the… Alchemy? Impossible…
"I think you just chose a card," Ling commented in awe.
"What was that?" Mei asked, her large onyx eyes wide. "Lightening?"
Al picked up the card and looked at the image. "A... transmutation circle?" he whispered, feeling shocked. It was a circle, alright. But it didn't look like a transmutation circle. And it wasn't a prime moon either. How could there be a reaction?
Mei plucked the card out of his hand. "Oh my. You got the Wheel."
"The Wheel?" Ling repeated. "Is that good?"
"I guess," Mei said. "It's the Wheel of Fortune. It could go either way though. It's also called the circle of life. But either way, something is going to happen what will make your life change."
"Today?" Ling asked.
"No, not necessarily today," Mei replied.
"Then we're as far as we were before," Ling sighed.
"But, it's a good thing, right?" Al said eagerly. He suddenly felt a bit encouraged. A certain change was coming? It had to mean the transmutation to get his brother back. Everything pointed towards that.
Mei met his eyes. "Possibly. Whatever it is, you're supposed to roll along with the wheel and let it take you where it goes. If you try to go against its way, it will crush you."
"Well, it sounds like all the cards want a reason to crush us," Ling taunted. "I say we challenge your fate and go for a lesson today."
Al's eagerness faltered a bit. "I don't know."
"Yes, you do! Meet me outside the gym after your last class," Ling instructed.
Al rose from the lunch table, knowing he wouldn't be able to resist. "Fine. See you later then." He stalked off towards the boy's bathroom, feeling slightly sick in his stomach. What if these cards didn't show him any fortunes at all? What if he only picked the ones he felt was right for him because of the alchemic reaction he got whenever he touched a circle? Alchemy would always be more scientifically correct than fortunes in his books, no matter which world. All the cards he picked had had a circle on them, and did that mean that Mei's readings weren't right? There had never been a spark before though, that was new.
What about the time she saw a balance between him and his "half-brother", and the certain thing they had to protect between them in their hearts? This certain thing had seemed to represent the two pieces of his brother's soul. That had been believable enough.
He entered the bathroom and stiffened the moment the door closed behind him. Out of one of the stalls came no other than Brad Connors out, who also seemed a bit taken aback by running into him this sudden. For a couple of seconds they both simply stood there, stock still and stared at each other, and Al wondered if he had to break the rules again already – without Ling's help.
Brad snorted. "You should've been expelled for good, twit."
"Speak for yourself," Al replied.
Brad grinned slyly at him. "Tell me, how many did you get then? Did you scream for your mom?"
Al drew his eyes away and scowled, understanding what Brad was referring to. He hadn't been beaten, but he realized he didn't know what kind of punishment Brad and his friends had gotten since they hadn't been expelled either. Still, they had broken the rules as he had.
"I got none," Al replied honestly.
"What?" Brad grated. "Why?"
Al didn't want to tell him that he was restricted from fighting. That might become complicated later, if people knew he would be expelled if he even defended himself, just because he had been trained. "Admit it, I wasn't in the wrong for defending myself after what you did to me. So I simply got suspended from my optional subject."
"That's bullcrap!" Brad roared, his fist hitting the wall so hard Al almost thought he'd break some knuckles. "That's so unfair!"
"You knew the consequences of starting a fight in the middle of the cafeteria too," Al sharply reasoned. "Why are you so worked up about it?"
Brad glowered at him. "Because of you, my friends got beat up by that paddle and you got away with nothing! Do you think that's fair?!"
Al's scowl deepened and his eyes drew to the floor. Being taken off the martial arts class was indeed nothing compared to that. That wasn't fair. Even if they had attacked first, they had barely had the chance to touch him. They hadn't really hurt him. He had been the one who had hurt them while fighting, and he was supposed to be the one against violence.
"No," he answered in a low voice. "They didn't do enough to deserve that." He hesitated a bit at Brad's unexpected silence. "They... They beat you too, didn't they?"
"Why do you care?!" Brad hollered. "I'll kill you if you ever dare feel sorry for me! I'm tough, I can handle such things. But I don't tolerate something like that happening to my friends. All of that is your fault!"
"I'm sorry," Al said, feeling really bad now. "I agree, all of this wasn't fair to them."
"Hell it isn't!" Brad replied angrily. "You're probably being treated with silk gloves because you're such a brilliant little kid! I fucking hate you and this entire school system!"
Al flinched a bit as Brad stormed past him, expecting him to charge and smash his head into one of the urinals, but he merely disappeared out the door without another word.
A couple of minutes later, Al shuffled out after his classmate with a big bubble of guilt growing in his stomach. He was familiar with the feeling of wanting to protect the people he cared about without caring if he suffered for it. He hadn't thought he would actually agree with Brad in something, but now he did.
"Try again, you can do it!"
Ling's voice echoed in the dim and otherwise empty gymnasium. They had left the lights off to be sure no one would see that the hall was occupied. To be on the safe side, Ling kept all of his senses on alert, ready to feel the ch'i of a third person if it should come too close to them. Then he could hide his friend and say he was training alone.
"I can't focus properly right now," Al groaned, standing in a paused stance on the mat on his bare feet and dressed in training robes. "It's my fault that they were punished."
"That's bullshit, and you know it," Ling disagreed. "They picked on you first. They assaulted you on the way home from school. You were defending yourself. Being banned from martial arts is a very strict punishment if you ask me."
"Still, they didn't hurt me," Al said. "Brad hit me once, but that was because I let him. How is that just?"
Ling rubbed his own face in with his palm. "They beat on you one day, they face consequences the next. That is just, if you ask me. Besides, they were behaving like idiots, which isn't exactly a newsflash. They were fully aware of what they were doing was wrong. Just roll with it, okay? You remember what Chang said, right?"
"Roll with the wheel, yeah," Al muttered. "But still... I don't like it." He didn't even know if his fortunes actually counted, no matter how good Mei was.
"If you want to master reading ch'i, you must open all your floodgates, remember?" Ling said, steering the subject back on what they were supposed to be doing. "Where are these floodgates located?"
"Inside the heart?" Al tried.
"That's one of them, yes," Ling said. "But there's also the crown, brow, throat, solar plexus, sacral and base. Close your eyes, and picture them as the main canals that lead your energy."
Al closed his eyes and took a deep breath. If he were to do this, he had to let go of everything else. Nothing else than his brother mattered right now. This energy flowing inside him was what empowered alchemy. He was certain of that now. It wasn't so different from how it worked in Amestris. Just a bit more difficult to control. He needed to control it properly so he could use alchemy on a complete level. Unless he didn't do this, the transmutation might fail because he was too weak. He had been weak before, when he had failed to save his brother from the Gate.
He concentrated harder, picturing the blue flow of energy rushing through his system and freed it completely, through his head, throat, his chest and lower stomach.
"That looks very good," Ling's voice said, sounding far away. "Now, fight!"
Ling swung his leg at him, but Al ducked, still with his eyes closed. The second after, Ling charged again by twisting on his heal and attacking with the same leg from a different angle. Al blocked it with a knee up to his chest and twisted his body around on one foot with his elbow ready for a strike against Ling's open chest. The older boy discharged himself from him and bounced back on his hands, making a quick somersault and landed on his feet.
Al moved quickly forward, hunched down and shot out his leg in a spin. Ling didn't have time to jump, and stumbled backwards. As his opponent was losing balance, Al shot forward again and pressed Ling down on his back while efficiently disarming his chances to strike him.
"Wow, that's pretty good, little brother."
Al gasped, suddenly feeling another presence inside his heart and he froze.
"At this rate, you're still going to beat me. I have to watch out for the rest of my remaining dignity as a big brother," Edward teased.
"Brother, what are you doing here?" Al asked, but couldn't help smiling. "I thought Alfons had already told you."
"I know," Edward said. "I just felt you so strongly just now... So I just wanted to say..."
"Not goodbye, right?" Al said, faltering a bit. He would hear nothing of it. "I'm going to get you back! So, there's no reason to say anything!"
"Ah, yeah," Edward chuckled. "No. I just wanted to say, see you later."
"Oh," Al said, feeling relieved. "That's okay. I'll see you later, Brother."
"By the way," Edward said. "Why are squinty-eyes staring at me like he can see me?"
Al quickly turned to Ling. He had completely forgotten that he had been there while talking! Now Ling was staring in shock at him, or more specifically at his ghostly brother. Al realized, Edward hadn't visualized himself like Schiller did. Instead of standing beside him, Edward was blanketing his own appearance, like a transparent reflection outside of him. He was currently standing inside the ghostly appearance of his brother, and Ling could see him as both himself and Edward at the same time.
Ling's lips quivered a bit before beaming as usual. "Hi!" He waved. "Nice to meet you."
"You too, squinty-eyes," Edward said in mild surprise but then he grinned, seemingly enjoying seeing the foreign boy staring at him in awe and shock.
"Don't call me that," Ling replied, pouting slightly.
"Brother," Al interrupted. "It seems like the piece of your soul inside me starts to run freely when I open the floodgates, like you're within the energy."
Edward shrugged. "I guess so." Then he smiled. "You're doing great, Al. I'm proud of you."
"You can tell me that when I bring you back," Al said confidently. Somehow, this energy rush had gotten him in a much better mood. "You should keep yourself out of trouble until I do, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you," Edward grinned, though his expression fell into a serious one as he spoke his next words. "Be careful, Al."
"I will," Al said.
As fast as he had showed up, his big brother's presence dissolved and disappeared, and Al calmed down slowly from the rush, feeling suddenly exhausted. He opened his eyes, no longer seeing with his heart.
Ling stilled on the floor, like he had been tense for a moment, and breathed deeply. "Wow, that was unexpected."
"That was my brother," Al chuckled.
"Seems like a determined guy," Ling said. "I'd like to meet him in person one day."
"Hopefully that will be possible soon," Al said softly.
"You suddenly caught on pretty fast," Ling said impressed, a large smile spreading across his face.
"Thanks!" Al smiled and jumped back to his feet. "I think I understand this now. This energy strengthens the body and the soul the moment all of the inner gates are open at the same time."
Ling rolled up onto his neck, and leaped forward to his legs, landing on his feet in a standing position. "That's right. I already look forward to the next lesson, now that you've gotten through the hardest part."
Al bowed in gratitude. "Thank you, Ling, for teaching me this."
Without even knowing it, Ling Yao had helped him one step closer to his brother.
On the way home that evening, Al thought about the conversation he had had with Alfons the day before. They had barely spoken to each other since Alfons had broken the subject off by escaping into his bedroom to read. Not unlike what Al himself usually did when he wanted to escape unpleasant conversations.
Al sighed. He couldn't help that he was curious. What had happened between Alfons and Brigadier General Kiehle in Amestris? If he had had someone else from his world with him, he could simply have asked. His brother, Mustang, Hawkeye, Winry, Scheiska.
He stopped, eyes wide. Scheiska? Why had he thought of her? He could still feel the light calmness over having his floodgates released, and he wondered if he could use them for something else than alchemy.
Like, restoring memories? One of the floodgates was inside his mind. What if the memories were still in there somewhere, and could be restored while having this floodgate open?
Of course! Why hadn't he thought of that before? Al suddenly got into a thrill of eagerness and ran the rest of the way home. This might work. It would be the only way he had that he could possibly remember something more of what he had recently experienced in his own world. While Alfons had been there. While he first had known him.
The apartment was dark when he came in, and Al turned the lights on in the living room. "Hello?" he called.
No answer. Maybe Alfons was outside for an errand or something. Al stepped into his room and closed the door. He slipped his school bag off his shoulder and immediately sunk into his normal fighting stance, his back bent, feet apart and hands together, and closed his eyes.
Like before, he concentrated all his energy on opening all the seven floodgates. It was exhausting even if he stood still, and it didn't take long before he was breathing soundly and feeling the sweat run down from his forehead. Yet, he refused to stop. He had to try finding out as much as he could, if possible. But it wouldn't work unless all floodgates were open at the same time.
The energy started flowing within him once again, and seemed to be opening easier the second time, despite his exhaustion. Al felt, this time he didn't have to open all of them from the start. The gates from his crown to his heart had already been opened, so he only had to concentrate on the remaining ones.
With a deep breath, the last gate flushed open, and he felt the rushing energy flow through all of his body with free access. He concentrated mainly on the gates closest to his mind, making the energy seek deeper into them. If this ought to work, Al figured there would probably be wisest to think about a person, so the memories of that person would come to light. Since he had randomly thought about Scheiska not long ago, he concentrated his mind on her.
First he saw a clumsy girl with glasses buried in a huge stack of books, before trying to spool things forward. That was too long ago. He needed the freshest memory of Scheiska he could think of. He remembered Rizembool. Scheiska had come to visit Winry after he had been rescued from Thule Society. This was better. If this memory was from after he was rescued, it meant that his brother had come back and that Alfons Heiderich was present somewhere. The girls were talking about something, but the words were unclear. Al gave up on listening to their conversation, and tried moving forward again.
A new memory showed up. This one was very different from the previous one. He was standing in an office in the Department of Investigations at Central Headquarters, and before him Scheiska stood up from her messy desk. Al took another deep breath. Someone else was in the room. That person was standing right next to him, he was sure of it, yet he couldn't turn to see him no matter what. Al was sure, if he had twisted his head just a bit so he could see, the person would merely be a black shadow, or even barely that.
"Is that you?" Al whispered. He tried to listen to what Scheiska was saying.
"Is something wrong?"
"We have a small problem with a certain high-ranked officer in the military," his own voice stated.
Scheiska stared earnestly from one to another through her big, round glasses. "It isn't Brigadier General Kiehle, is it?"
Al's mind reeled. He was onto something. If all the black shadows in his memories were Alfons, it meant he and Alfons had used to have a secret about the Brigadier General, and they had asked for Scheiska's help?
Then Scheiska was leading him and the shadowy figure behind him into a new room, the military archives. Al was observing all he could as he was going through thick volumes of records. Why had he done this? He was certain they weren't allowed to be in there. Were they after to find out something about the Brigadier General?
Al's mind made a sudden halt. Of course. He was possibly looking into useful memories, but the person he had to check out wasn't Scheiska, but of course Brigadier General Kiehle himself. He concentrated again, and pictured the man he remembered as a self-centred and cruel rival of Colonel Roy Mustang.
The first place he saw was Lior. Where he had first met the man. This was way too early, so he spooled forward again. A flash of images in disarray were spinning through his mind until he heard a sound of a light struggle nearby, and he went down a stair to check out what was going on. As he reached a door opening into a hall, his eyes widened as he saw the Brigadier General himself. What was he doing inside his house? Al looked around the familiar place from his mind. Yes, this was where he had lived with his brother. And Alfons too. He just didn't remember that he had ever been there...
Kiehle hadn't noticed him yet. He was pinning someone to the wall in the middle of the hall, and the person was struggling against him.
No matter how much Al wanted to see the face of the person in danger, he couldn't. The figure might as well have been air. But Kiehle was still holding him and threatening him with harsh words.
Al wanted to shot forward into an attack and separate the man from Alfons, but he couldn't move. In the next second, Kiehle turned around and saw him, and his steely eyes glowed of vicious anger. For the first time in this memory, Al could hear coherent words.
"You will forget that you saw this. Or your brother will be as good as dead."
Al's eyes shut open and he gasped suddenly as his legs failed him. He crashed down to the merciless floor and remained lying there, simply breathing for a while. For several moments he had to convince himself that the threat was simply the past and that it didn't matter anymore. What he knew for sure now, was that Brigadier General Kiehle had been a very cruel man, and that he had hurt Alfons. In what way he had hurt him, Al still wasn't sure of. But he had known about it while his brother obviously hadn't.
In the next moment, he heard the door open and close shut from the living room, and Al tried to move up from the floor, but panicked as his whole body felt numb. He could hardly move at all!
"Al, are you here?" Alfons asked. "I'm late because I worked overtime."
"I'm here," Al said defeated. He had managed to roll onto his back, but didn't get much further.
"Is everything alright?" Alfons opened the door to his bedroom and stared puzzled at the collapsed younger teen on the floor. "What are you doing?"
"I can't get up," Al admitted, staring at the other upside-down in his position.
Alfons chuckled softly. "Are you tiring yourself out?" He stepped forward and curved down, carefully helping the bronze-haired boy to sit up.
"I learned a technique that makes me use some extra energy," Al explained. "I think I just used a bit too much..." His eyes drooped a bit and his head rested against Alfons's arm, barely able to keep himself in sitting position.
"Seems like it," Alfons said worried. "I'll bring you some orange juice." Without hesitation, he picked Al up from the floor, and the younger protested in his arms.
"You don't have to carry me, I'm okay."
Alfons smiled and put him down on the bed. "I think you'll be much more comfortable lying here. I'll be right back." He left the room, but his presence was soon replaced by a purring, golden cat.
Goldy jumped up on Al's bed and started playing the toe he had been experimentally wriggling. He laughed as the clutches tickled him underneath his foot. "No no, stop that, Goldy, you're torturing me!"
Alfons came back and had a good laugh before deciding to save him, and picked up the cat, put her on the floor, sat down on the bedside and helped Al take a sip of his juice.
"Are you feeling any better?" Alfons asked.
Al nodded his head and experimentally lifted his arm, flexing his fingers. He was still a bit numb, but it was slowly letting go. He probably just needed to rest a bit. "Hey, Alfons," he said in a low voice, indicating that there was something he wanted to ask. He supposed Alfons was used to that long ago.
"Yes?"
"I remembered something more."
Alfons stared surprised at him. "You did?"
"Yes, I remembered something about the Brigadier General," Al said carefully.
Alfons' eyes darkened, but he remained silent at that.
"He came into our house in Central, and then he attacked you," Al elaborated. "At that time I found out that he was doing something... horrible to you, and my brother didn't know about it. And then we tried to find out something about the Brigadier General. Something to blackmail him with, so he wouldn't hurt you anymore, right?"
Alfons eyes were blank and empty. "That's right."
Al closed his eyes, not needing to know further details. He knew the most important ones. He had supported Alfons and he had stood up for him in the past, like friends do. They had been friends all along, and even if he had known it all along, this was the first time he managed to visualize how that had been like.
He tried to sit up against the headboard of his bed, and after some seconds, he succeeded. After all that had happened, he hoped Alfons didn't feel less of him. What if he had been a different and better person before he lost his memories? Alfons hadn't just experienced losing Edward, he had also lost the only side of Al he knew, and Al had never even thought about it that way.
He leaned forward, hiding his face in his palm. "Am I different?"
"Different?"
"Different from whom I was when you first knew me," Al elaborated. "I mean, since when we first got to this world, I had no memories of you."
"No," Alfons said. "You're the same person. Only the circumstances were different."
Al fell silent for a while, thinking about what Alfons had said. "I feel like I really know you now, even better than I did before."
A small smiled trailed across the older boy's lips.
"Do you remember when we fought our last battle in the Thule Society headquarters in Amestris?" Al asked.
Alfons looked surprised at him. "Yes."
"You probably don't know this, because you were gone when the Colonel came back. But when the Gate caused the ground to split, the Colonel and Brigadier General Kiehle fell down into the crack. Mustang fought the Brigadier General down there; he told us when he came back." Al stared down at the striped quilt. "He and Hawkeye were the only ones who returned from that split."
Alfons' eyes widened.
"Kiehle attacked the Colonel, and he was about to win even. But then Hawkeye showed up and shot him. The Brigadier General was killed."
Al observed quietly as Alfons drew his clear blue eyes to the floor and breathed deeply, inhaling the news. He wondered what he was thinking, if he was relieved or remorseful or cared at all. But it seemed like Alfons did care.
His eyes hardened and he looked up again and he swallowed hard like his throat was filled with ash. "I didn't know that he was dead. I'm glad you told me, Al."
Maybe it would be easier to bury the past now? To forget what he didn't want to remember? Al smiled at his friend. "I thought you'd want to know. By the way, I have something else that I need to tell you too."
Alfons looked up at him again. "I'm listening."
Al instinctively lowered his voice. "The transmutation circle is finished. I know what to do. But we need a place to do it."
Alfons brightened up at that news. "Really?!" They were another step closer. Just a little bit more now! He hoped Edward would hold on long enough. He nodded, suddenly bit by an exciting feeling in the pit of his stomach. "This is great. We'll do it inside the apartment."
Al stared at him like he was crazy. "Inside...?" Inside the house? It reminded him only of the human transmutation he had done on his mother.
But Alfons nodded confidently. "I want to bring him directly home. Don't you think that would be best for him? Who knows what state he'll be in when he returns... We can't do it outside in the snow and besides, we're in the middle of a large city. If we go somewhere we're certain no one will see us, we have to go far."
Alfons was right. Al nodded slowly in agreement. It could be done, so why not? "Okay, it's decided then. We'll do it right here in the living room."
There weren't many days left now. And this time it would work.