Kamaitachi Chronicles

By: Aviantei

Twenty-Seven


From there, Mustang and I chatted a bit more, but he didn't outright give me any answers, nor did I ask for them. Just discussing the process of developing his combat style gave me plenty of room for thought, and it allowed me to make some theoretical reverse engineering of how Armstrong worked as well. Their main concern was giving themselves enough range to transmutate where and when they needed it, and that concept had given me an idea.

It was a potentially stupid idea, but if I could make it work…well, it would solve a lot of my problems.

But before I could get any of that to function, though, I needed to finalize my scythe composition so the following transmutations could be reliable, so back to deskwork it was, scribbling as much as I could whenever I wasn't helping manage daily duties. At last, I'd gotten to a stage where I could be playing around with the materials that Rosomak had gifted me, and it felt so good to be making progress in a way I hadn't in a long while.

Of course, I needed to hope it would work out in the end, but that could come later. While I'd developed my basic fighting style as a form of necessity, the creation aspect had always been my favorite part of alchemy. It was always so satisfying to get things just right, the shape and form you imagined in reality. It may have been a science, but, when I was younger, it had felt like magic, and I sometimes still thought like that.

And so, one afternoon I doublechecked my transmutation circle draft, satisfied with the results. Already my hand was itching to get my hands on my materials and try it out, and I couldn't stop the smile that was forming. It had taken months of hard work and a lot of assistance, but I was certain I'd done it, and what else could I ask for?

Not wanting to distract everyone else with the actual transmutation process, I gathered up my notes and materials, planning on finding an empty conference room or something to work on.

"Kamaitachi, a moment."

I held back my groan but not my glare as I turned to Mustang. He couldn't know that he was interrupting, but I resented getting pulled off task regardless. Not to mention that tone meant that he needed to discuss something serious, so I couldn't just ignore it in favor of my own work, either—almost like I'd gotten a job with the military or something.

The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can get back to it, though. "What do you need now? Can't keep up with your own paperwork again?"

Behind me, I caught the sound of Havoc and Breda sharing a short snicker. Mustang himself wasn't anywhere near as impressed. "Yes, yes, very funny. But, no, you have an assignment."

The last time I'd heard the term assignment applied to me, I'd still been in school, where anything like homework had seemed like a giant fucking chore. Even when I'd been learning alchemy, my teacher had never used the idea of assignments, either, instead setting up puzzles and problems for me to work my way through. But it wasn't those past associations that gave me pause.

It was the fact that now I was a State Alchemist, and what an assignment might mean for me could have very dangerous implications.

But that's what you signed up for, wasn't it? And it wasn't like running away was going to be effective. Besides, hadn't I been jumping at the bit to be involved a couple of months ago? Leaving my materials on my desk for the time being, I went to stand before Mustang. "What kind of assignment are we talking about?" If I was getting called on to go beat someone up, I at least wanted the time to prepare for it mentally.

"An investigation in the south." I frowned, having no clue why I of all people would be needed for that. If it was an opportunity to prove my skills as part of the unit, wouldn't it make more sense to do so close to home? "Well, there's a lot more to it, but the short version is that there's been reports of the Sickle Weasel Alchemist doing work in the area." At my bewildered reaction, Mustang smirked at me. "I take it you haven't been running hundreds of miles away to do charity work behind our backs, then?"

It wasn't a real question, so I didn't bother to answer. At least it was starting to make sense why I was assigned to look into things. "So you're saying that someone's been masquerading as me?" Mustang offered out a stack of papers that a quick scan revealed was the mission brief. I flipped through the pages to give me a review for later, but focused on Mustang. "Is this sort of thing common?"

"It's not an everyday issue, but it crops up often enough. It's no secret that Amestris likes parading its State Alchemists as a sign of strength. Some of us, like me, have alchemy that's so specialized that having someone take on our identity isn't likely, but for someone like you, with a title that just makes sense in context…"

Yeah, I knew my title was in reference to my scythe, but it wasn't like it was hard to transmute a weapon. Hell, I'd made my living with repairing tools and the like; it was simple stuff. Of course, you couldn't just go ahead and say you were a State Alchemist, either. "…but if you have some basic skill, making a replica of a watch that at least looks like ours is simple enough. That does still bring up the question of why someone would want that label on them."

Dog of the Military wasn't a term that was all that appealing to have slapped on you. Except, as I skimmed through the mission brief again, it seemed all the talk about this false me was rather positive. At least whoever was impersonating my title wasn't smearing my name, but if they wanted to help people out, I wasn't quite sure why they'd bother pretending to be part of the state in the first place.

"Those are questions we won't be able to answer without meeting the culprit. Either way, impersonating military personnel is an offense we can't let slide." Mustang stood up from his seat. "We've been asked to look into this matter ourselves, so you and I will go investigate. As your superior, it's my job to make sure you have a successful mission, after all. I'll go pick up train tickets. Can you be ready by 1600 hours?"

I couldn't quite bring myself to say something like yes, sir, but it wasn't like I was about to turn down the mission just out of some petty sense of pride. "Request to go prepare for mission, then?"

"Granted."

So I went and just did that.


It wasn't like I had all that much to pack in the first place, so it was an efficient affair. The one thing that gave me a bit of pause as I reviewed the mission brief was the quick scribbled notes in what was becoming the familiar shape of Mustang's handwriting. It seemed his base plan was to not show up with guns blazing, but instead to take an undercover investigative approach. It made perfect sense, though it did mean I had to change from my military uniform to more civilian clothes, Rito's criticisms of my closet echoing in my head all the while.

It's practical, dammit. At least I don't have to struggle on what to pack in times like this.

Shutting my suitcase, I took another quick glance at my pocket watch, finding I had just about a half hour left until I was supposed to report to Mustang. My first instinct was to drag my research materials back out and get to testing my new transmutations, but I knew that risked me getting caught up in my work and running late, and Mustang would never let me live it down.

There was still enough time for me to grab a quick bite to eat, though, so long as I did it at the station, so that was what I decided on. The sandwich wasn't going to blow anyone out of the water, but it did its job of filling my stomach, so I couldn't have asked for much more.

"Looks like we had about the same idea, huh, Kamaitachi?"

…I could do without running headfirst into Mustang early, however.

Following our undercover mission directive, he was also in a more casual ensemble of a button-up, non-poofy military pants, and a dark jacket. While I'd seen him in more casual dress at the couple of dinners we'd had with Maes and Gracia, it was still a strange sight, given that we were meeting for work. Regardless of my thoughts on his appearance, though, Mustang took the seat across from mine.

"Are we doing this things, then?" I asked, scooting my own meal plate aside to make room. "The thing were you call me Kamaitachi and I call you Honō?" I'd thought he'd been joking the first time, but it had been consistent enough that I figured it was worth calling it out.

"Why not? You wouldn't be the first to just call me by my title." I didn't even bother to hide my unimpressed expression as I sipped at my drink. By now, I'd had enough experience to know that Mustang liked to act like he didn't get what you were talking about, and if you just let him go, he'd get to the point eventually. "You're the one that brought it up in the first place. If you'd rather I call you Sickle Weasel, I will, but…"

I sighed. "But that would defeat the point of going undercover for now." Well, it didn't bother me much either way. "Do what you want. I doubt you were going to change your mind, regardless of what I said." Bored of the exchange already, I stuffed the rest of my sandwich into my mouth, chewed, and swallowed before I added, "You better eat that quick. I have no qualms getting onto that train without you."

"Yes, yes, no need to worry."

Despite everything, I didn't feel worried. But it wasn't like I needed to tell him that.


Just because of the timing of getting our mission and departing, we were on an overnight train. It was just long enough of a ride that we'd pull into station by morning, and that wasn't even the end of it. Our final destination would also take a bit of a drive by car, which would be Mustang's job. I wouldn't have much to do until we made it to the town where the reports of the imposter me—our False Sickle as it were—was.

There wasn't enough room in the car for me to tinker with my scythe, though, so I busied myself with a hefty textbook Rosomak had recommended to me, hoping to tuck away the know how for later. Mustang spared me the pressure of conversation, but we wouldn't be able to maintain that balance for too much longer. Once the investigation began, we'd have to do our best to act like a guardian and ward traveling together, which rankled me more than anything because it was close to the truth, but I could throw that aside for the time being.

"Hey," I said, breaking the silence as I snapped my book shut, "what about the cases before this one?" I didn't want to deal with Mustang's smug look, so I stared out the window, watching the brown grasses of the south roll by. "You said people had done this before." If you were an alchemist, being branded as a dog of the state wasn't quite something appealing. "I guess I don't get it."

I mean, the military wouldn't want that, either. I'd never had the thought of pretending I was one, more than content to be a wanderer as I tried to ignore what had happened to my parents, my hometown.

Wow, Caiman, you sure are a giant fucking mess, aren't you?

Lucky for me that Mustang was more than willing to give me something else to concentrate on. "Let's see, I wasn't involved in any of those, but I did do some reading on them, so let's see what I can remember…" I couldn't help but tap my fingers against the car door as I waited for him to gather his thoughts. "A couple of them were for money. The impersonators used their 'title' to attract customers who wanted their alchemy services—so in short, they thought a bit of fraud was a good way to get it done."

I couldn't call that approach wrong, but it seemed like more trouble than it was worth.

"That said, the most common is people throwing around their weight," Mustang continued, and I grimaced. "We're a powerful military force. Pick up the name of someone, and you don't have to do fraud to extort people; you can just threaten them into it." He gripped the steering wheel tighter, his frustration more than apparent. "You don't need to worry, though, Kamaitachi. The report on your little doppelganger didn't say anything about that, and I think we would've heard by now."

"That doesn't mean that they won't do it later." Not knowing who we were dealing with was the worst, even if we would be able to search for answers soon enough. I huffed at my own line of thought. "I guess that's why we're going, isn't it? To make sure that nothing too nasty happens because of someone taking on my identity?"

"That's a good way to look at it." You don't look at it that way, then? I raised my eyebrow, but Mustang, focusing on the road ahead of us, didn't look at me to see my silent question. "All things considered, this is your name at risk, Kamaitachi, not to mention it's a good opportunity for you to handle a mission while it's still low stakes." Unlike anything I'd gotten caught up in since I'd gotten my certification so far. "We've got plenty of leeway in how long it takes us to solve this, though. If we need to take our time, we can, so long as things stay peaceful."

Which sounded pretty encouraging if it weren't for one detail. "I'm telling Hawkeye you're playing hooky from doing your actual job."

"Come on, that's not what I mean!" It sure was satisfying to see Mustang of all people get flustered at the concept of Hawkeye scolding him. Served him right. "Well, as nice as it is to get out of the office, I have a feeling this case will be better handled quicker rather than slower. Oh," he said, pointing ahead of us. "There's our destination—

"Let's go meet this big fan of yours, Kamaitachi."


[Author's Notes]

Hello, and welcome to the final arc of Part One of this fic; the False Sickle Incident! I have been sitting around on this idea for years, so it's been very satisfying to work on and write after all this time. I will admit some influence from the Tringham Brothers on this one, but I think I added enough interesting stuff to make it its own vibe, so I hope y'all enjoy.

Thanks to akameyukimura for the fav on this fic. I hope you enjoy the rest of the arc and story as well!

Much like whenever I work on Exception, it's wild to me to think I've been reaching milestones on these older fics, considering how long they've been sitting around (haha...ha...). But since the arc is done, I'll be aiming for semi-regular updates - I just haven't decided if I'm gonna commit to bi-weekly updates until the season finale or if I'm gonna give some space for a different fic update, but I'll let you know. In the meantime, check out my other ancient fic, Exception, which will be having bi-weekly updates for the foreseeable future, as well as anything else I've written. I've got a pretty big archive; if you like this, I'm sure you'll enjoy something else I worked on.

Either way, the next chapter will be in two weeks on September 30! Please look forward to it.

-Avi

[09.16.2023]