Welcome back! If the title wasn't any indication, we've reached a crucial moment in this story, and I'm so excited to share it! In this chapter, we've got the epiphany of epiphanies for one Edward Elric, some brotherly love, some childhood wholesomeness, and some unexpected, self-affirming progress! I hope you all enjoy!

I also updated the tumblr post with this chap, and I suggest giving it a look for some helpful visual representations of the automail stuff in this and the previous chapter ;)

(update 9/29/24: mass update!)

Ch 17: Simple Things

Over the years, the Rockbells have grown accustomed to Edward Elric's special brand of stubbornness. Whether it's an aversion to "opaque white liquids secreted by cows" or the adamant refusal to accept that maybe, just maybe, he's a little behind in the growth department, when Ed sets his mind on something, there's little anyone can do to convince him otherwise. Pinako always found this to be an amusing—and sometimes incredibly annoying—quirk, and never once in her life would she have pictured it leading to tragedy. It was undoubtedly that stubbornness that led him to try and resurrect Trisha, but it was also that stubbornness that allowed him to save his little brother when everything went wrong. And now, Pinako and Winry are watching as that bullheaded determination slowly tears him apart once again.

It's not like they haven't tried talking some sense into him. But Edward has managed to convince himself that the only way to save his brother is by pushing himself well past his limits, and he's not willing to listen to reason anymore. Not even when his own body is giving out on him because of his carelessness.

Pinako is fed up. She's all for a patient being determined; determination is essential for rehabilitation, and she encourages them to test their limits. But there's also no way they can, well, rehabilitate if they aren't still being conscious of their own needs.

She can see it, can see the sleep deprived circles under Ed's eyes and the repressed pain in his expression. She hid his prosthetic leg after the first night, when he figured out how to attach it himself and worked alone for who knows how long. And then, guiltily, she hid his crutch the second night when he used it to find where she'd hidden the leg, and passed out in the hall sometime after. Even being literally forced to take a day off from training didn't stop him, when she stumbled upon him army crawling through the house in search of the hidden items. So, she stuck him with a mild paralytic when he fell asleep, so he'll have no choice but to rest for the day. When he woke up, practically immobilized, he was furious, cursing everyone in the house as traitors. How is she supposed to get it through to him that he needs to calm down if having his literal means of transportation taken away can't stop him?

So now, Edward is sulking in his room, and the Rockbells are exasperated, and Alphonse is…confused. It's probably his own fault, since he's been fed up with Ed's refusal to listen to anyone and has spent the better part of these past few days ignoring him in return. He understands his brother has been being too hard on himself, but taking away the things he needs to get better seems counterproductive.

"Granny? Why'd you take Brother's leg away?" the ten-year-old finally asks during dinnertime (where Edward is blatantly absent).

"Because he needs to rest today," the old woman replies tersely.

"But I thought you wanted him to work as hard as possible."

"We do…" Winry cuts in. "But there's a difference between working hard and pushing your limits and being reckless. And Ed's being pretty reckless…"

"But doesn't he kinda have to be if he's going to do this all in one year?"

"I suppose...but not when his head's not in the right space for it."

Al looks to Pinako for further explanation. "You know your brother, Al," she says. "He pushes himself to his limits and beyond, all while denying he has limits in the first place. He has to be determined for the right reasons, not just work blindly with no real care for himself."

"But why is he doing this?" The moment the question echoes out, Al freezes as he realizes its answer. It's so obvious, he can't believe he didn't see it sooner. "I...I have to go talk to him." He hurries out of the room before the other two can so much as form a response.

When Al pokes his head into Ed's room, he finds his older brother laying stiffly in bed, arm tucked behind his head and glaring at the ceiling as if it's the source of all his problems.

"Brother?" Al asks cautiously, standing in the doorway.

"Go away, Al," Ed replies, gaze unmoving from the ceiling. "I don't want to talk right now."

Al sighs, deciding to get right to the point. "Are you mad because Granny and Winry are making you stay in bed?"

"No. Now go away."

"Then what are you mad about?"

"I'm not mad. Go away."

"You're looking at the ceiling like you want to kill it."

His eyes flash in anger. "I said go away!"

Al stands still for a moment. Having grown up with Ed's temper, he can't recall many times when it truly annoyed him. But it's definitely annoying him now...because Ed is using it to avoid having to face something he doesn't want to face. Al straightens his posture, effectively barricading the doorway. "Fine. Make me."

Ed's head snaps to Al, features briefly colored in surprise before anger takes hold again. "Stop it, Al, that's not funny."

'I'm not joking, Ed. You want me to leave? Make me."

Ed stares a moment longer before letting his head fall back on his pillow. "I can't," he says, so quietly Al almost misses it.

"What was that?"

"I said I can't!" Ed shouts. "I can't do anything, Al!"

There it is. Al moves closer. "What do you mean?"

Ed gingerly pushes himself up, gripping his sheet tightly in his hand. The drug Pinako injected him with overnight has mostly worn off, but he still feels sluggish and weak...probably partly from sleep deprivation, too. It brings Ed's rage right back to the forefront, and he looks at Al with fiery eyes. "I mean I'm completely useless! I've been working for three days, and I haven't taken more than five consecutive steps in that entire time! Just a month ago I was walking fine and now I can't do it anymore!" He hits the bed with his fist, annoyed how the sheets muffle the sound.

"Ed—"

"I don't want to hear it, Al! You're just going to tell me the same crap as Granny and Winry...How I'm being too hard on myself. How I need to take it easy. How I just need to give myself time." Ed's voice is bitter, the last syllables coming out in almost a hiss. "Well, I don't have any time! I don't have the luxury to take it easy! I have to be hard on myself because every second I waste is another second you're trapped in that metal body! But it's not enough—everything I've done and I'm still a failure!"

Al makes another attempt to speak but is cut off once again.

"And don't tell me I'm not! I got myself into this mess, and it's up to me to get out of it! I don't care how much it hurts! I don't care if I don't sleep or eat! I don't care if Granny and Winry hate me—if everyone in Amestris hates me! I'm going to get your body back if it kills me!" Edward's voice echoes in the air, his face freezing in shock at his own words. "Wait, A-Al, I—"

"Shut up!"

Ed's mouth snaps shut at Al's outburst, watching his little brother warily.

"And listen to me, Edward." Even with an expressionless face, Ed can tell Al is absolutely seething—an emotion he hasn't seen many times in Al's ten years of living. It's in his voice, softly shaking the vessel housing his soul. "I've told you a hundred times that we're in this together. But somehow, you keep getting it in your head that you have to do everything alone, and I can't take it anymore! I'm going to keep telling you until you understand that I'm going to be here no matter how many stupid choices you make." Al points a trembling finger at the older boy. "I know you're frustrated. I know better than anyone else what you're feeling! Trying to adjust to a body that you don't understand is hard. I know it is. But I'm not about to let you sacrifice yourself for this. You've already sacrificed enough for me, and it's about time you realize that watching you run yourself into the ground makes me anything but happy. You think I'm grateful you're ignoring your own needs to 'help me'? I'm angry, Ed. Granny is angry. Winry is angry. The only one here who doesn't seem to care about you is you. So stop being stupid and listen to us!" Al makes a sound resembling a deep breath, clearly calming himself down. "We're not here to hurt you, or get in your way. We just want to help," he continues, much softer than before. "But we can't do that if you won't give us a chance…"

Ed stares at Alphonse, entirely at a loss for words. He's not sure what he could say, anyway, without sounding like he's making excuses. Slowly, he lowers his head, looking at the floor in shame. Here he was, thinking he was being tough, but all he's done is hurt his little brother all over again. How does Alphonse keep forgiving him? It's just one screw up after another...Ed swallows, just listening to the sound of his own racing heartbeat and waiting for Al to say something else. A couple minutes pass before he does.

"You promised me you would do everything you could to keep from going too far, Brother…" Al says, his voice sounding almost tired. "You said you weren't going to neglect yourself any longer. You said you would find a solution for both of us, and would do everything you could to fix things without losing yourself again."

"That's what I'm—" Ed begins, voice edging on desperation as he looks back into Al's eyes.

Al cuts him off. "Don't you dare tell me that's what you're doing, Brother. Because all I see is you taking a step back, not forward."

Ed looks down again. "I—I just…" A deep sigh escapes him, shoulders slumping forward as if he's being physically crushed by the weight of his words. He can't downplay this; not in front of Al. "I'm just tired of doing nothing, Al. It's been almost four months, and I've progressed so little. I made a promise, and I'm doing a pretty damn laughable job of acting on it...just a worthless failure…"

A humorless laugh echoes from Al's armor, and Ed glances at him, confused. "Don't you get it? You don't need to act right now. You can't help me if you don't help yourself. That's why we keep telling you to take it slow."

"But getting you back to normal isn't something I should be putting off. I need to make more progress."

"You're not putting anything off, Ed. All of this—everything you've done since that colonel came by, it's all been progress. And I know it doesn't feel like much right now, but sometimes it's the simple things that're the most important."

Ed's gaze shifts down, coming to rest on his hand loosely curled at the end of his left leg. He traces a finger along the edge of the empty port, his nails lightly scraping against metal. Is all that really true? He thinks back to the earliest part of this ordeal that he can clearly remember, two weeks after it began. He was entirely at the mercy of the Rockbells at that time, still in too much shock to even fully understand what had happened. He was trapped, suffering from pain he couldn't identify, and unable to do anything to take care of himself. And then, as he began to understand more, he also began to lose himself. He remembers the guilt, overwhelming and incapacitating, crippling his soul as much as his limbs did his body. He remembers wishing it could end, that he could escape from it all, but knowing he couldn't because his little brother was stuck in a situation far worse than he. And he remembers that military man coming to visit, re-igniting a spark within him that he didn't even realize was still there.

He made the decision to have automail. He spent a month fixing the neglect he'd inflicted on himself, re-learning how to walk and write and effectively feed himself and take care of basic hygiene. He learned about the philosopher's stone, and put himself on the line to find Al when he ran away, and even returned to the source of all his pain for the sake of moving toward his goal. He resolved to be a State Alchemist, at the risk of losing everyone he loves. And he endured the agony of automail surgery, and all the hell after.

All of it, every event, whether monumental or insignificant...it's all led to this moment. And in each and every memory, right there beside him, have been Alphonse, Winry, and Granny.

Edward blinks, suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion he can't even identify. Only one thing is clear: he's been a fool. Being so focused on everything he can't do and not seeing what he's already done. A flame licks the inside of his chest, warming his heart and filling his lungs with a sense of fiery determination. But it's not the same as before; it's not desperate or painful or all-consuming...It's steady, and strong, and right. It's the feeling he had that day two months ago when he realized he still had more to do with his life.

It's hope.

The simple things may be the hardest, but Alphonse is right; they're also the most important. And he's been an idiot for not seeing it until now.

It's not like everything's fixed. He still feels that guilt, ingrained in his soul and threatening to bubble to the surface, stripping him of all the progress he's made. And he's still afraid, deep down, that he's going through all of this in vain and there's nothing he can do to make up for his mistakes. But just having that little spark of hope is all he needs to push forward, past the lingering doubts in his head.

"I…" Ed begins, voice much too raw for his liking. "I'm sorry, Al." I've been saying that a lot lately, haven't I? Hopefully, this time, it's true. He's not going to make any more empty promises. From now on, he's going to let his actions speak for him.

Al is quiet for a moment, contemplating his brother's apology. Not because he doubts its sincerity; Ed clearly had some kind of epiphany following his outburst. No, just because he feels like saying 'it's okay' isn't the right response. It's not okay; not after watching Ed tear himself apart in a multitude of ways over the past several months. He's sure Ed knows this, though, so mentioning it would just be rubbing salt into a wound. So, finally, he just kneels down, gathering Edward into a hug. He knows his brother has never been much of a hugger, and he can't even feel their chests pressed together or his arms around the older boy's shoulders, but somehow, it still makes him feel safe. He sees Ed stiffen for a moment, surprised by the sudden embrace, before a soft tap signals Ed's own arm returning the hug.

The older Elric can't even get his arm a quarter of the way around Al's torso, but it doesn't matter right now. Ed buries his face into the cold metal, closing his eyes and hugging it as tight as he can. Even after every stupid thing he's done, Alphonse is still here. He doesn't deserve such a kind, forgiving, amazing little brother; not when he's been such a lousy older one. But even after everything their lives have thrown at them, that's the one thing Ed will always be truly grateful for.

…

When Edward wakes the next morning, the first thing he notices is that his leg and crutch are back up against his dresser. Alphonse said he was going to tell Granny about their talk, but he honestly wasn't expecting anything to come from it. The Rockbells have been trying to talk to him for days, and each time, he fought it until they gave up and left. Surely things can't be forgiven just like that, right?

Ed cringes slightly at the memory of how he's behaved recently. There's no other way to put it; he's been an absolute ass to everyone, all under the guise of being tough. He didn't see—or rather, didn't want to see—that they were just trying to help. Will Granny and Winry even be willing to help anymore after how he's treated them?

The door opens softly, and the lack of clanking metal accompanying it tells him he's about to find out.

Granny's light footsteps stop at the edge of the bed, and Edward opens his eyes. She smiles faintly. "Looks like you woke up before eleven, for once," she says, the attempt at humor feeling much too weak. She abandons it, deciding to get to the point. "Al talked to me last night…"

Ed opens his mouth to reply, but can't think of anything suitable to say. What is he supposed to say? 'Please don't give up on me even though I totally deserve it'?

"So, here's the deal, Sprout...Tomorrow, we're going to start therapy again, and you're going to follow our instructions. I want you to know I didn't take the past few days personally. I deal with angry patients all the time...but I'll admit it's been harder to handle than normal just because it's you. But as you know, your behavior was not acceptable. Along with working on your physical therapy, we're going to also work on regulating your emotions. It's okay to get frustrated, and it's okay to get discouraged, but it's not okay to let those emotions fester to the point of hurting yourself. So, we're going to work together, and by next year, you're going to be great at using that automail, just like I promised."

Ed blinks, not quite sure if he heard her right. "You're...still gonna help me?"

Pinako's stern expression morphs into utter confusion. "The hell you talking about, boy?"

"Because I've been so mean…" he continues, wondering how it wasn't obvious.

"Oh, please, Edward…" Pinako rolls her eyes, reaching out to muss up his hair. "You've been a stubborn brat your entire life. But I'm never going to just give up on you because of it. Who do you think I am?" She walks over to the dresser, pulling out a long sleeve shirt and pants and tossing them at him. "Now come on. It's not too cold today and you've been cooped up for a week. I bet your brother and Winry would enjoy playing outside with you."

Ed sits up, pulling off his shirt with a lingering confused expression. "Winry's not mad either?"

Pinako laughs. "Oh, she was furious. But mostly just worried, and sad. She was very happy to hear about your talk with Al."

Ed finishes pulling on his pants, tossing his pajamas on the floor. "So you're not even going to yell at me? For being so stupid?"

"From what I heard, Al already did that. I'm not sure what else we could say." She chuckles, picking up his discarded clothes and tossing them in the laundry bin. When she turns back, Ed is looking at her like she's an imposter. She just chuckles again, tying up the extra fabric of his left pantleg into a knot and poking his nose. This confuses him further, and it's hilarious. She holds out his crutch and he takes it, still eyeing her skeptically. "So, what do you want for lunch? Winry wants pasta but I told her I'd let you pick."

…Huh? Ed positions the crutch under his arm and stands, testing it a couple times. Why is she being so nice? It's creepy. "I don't care," he replies. "Whatever will make you stop freaking me out."

"Chicken it is." Pinako exits the room, leaving behind a supremely confused eleven-year-old.

…Maybe he was dumb for thinking she wouldn't be willing to help anymore.

Slowly, Ed makes his way out into the main house, eyes peeled for any signs of a wrench wielding eleven-year-old or an armor bound ten-year-old. He pokes his head into the living room, but it's empty. He frowns, preparing to turn around—when Winry's voice sounds from behind him.

"Looking for someone?" she says, practically right in his ear.

"Agh!" Ed jumps forward, overcorrecting his step and tripping onto the floor. He looks back, seeing Winry and Al standing in the hall. How did I not hear him? They must've been there the whole time...

Winry laughs. "That's for being an idiot!" She holds out her hand, and perplexed, Ed takes it.

"So that's it?" He gets back to his foot. "Just a practical joke?"

"Yup. Al already did the hard part for me." Winry grins. "Now come on, me and Al were in the middle of a tense game of Sharks."

Ed rolls his eyes. "I don't know if you noticed, but I am severely lacking in required limbs right now."

"Oh, please, like we can't figure out how to make it work…" Winry tugs on his arm again, and for the first time in a long time, Edward finds himself genuinely smiling.

Which is how he ends up on top of Al's shoulders, chasing Winry around the yard, and wielding his crutch like a weapon. When the brothers get close to her, Ed reaches the crutch out, smacking Winry on the arm.

"Eaten again! Sharks win!" Al announces.

"That's not fair!" Winry whines. "Ed's reach is too far!" Ed just laughs maniacally, swinging the crutch in a victory arc. "We all know if he didn't have that thing he wouldn't get anywhere near me with that tiny arm!"

The victory ends mid-swing. "WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT HE NEEDS STILTS TO REACH THE COUNTER?!"

Winry laughs and Alphonse sighs, readjusting his hold on Ed's ankle so he doesn't flail himself right off Al's shoulders. Once he finally calms down, Winry declares it's her turn to be the shark.

"Fine, but you have to hit me for it to count," Ed says.

"That's not fair! Why can't I tag Al?"

"Because I'm the swimmer! Al's just the transportation."

"Hey!" Al exclaims, offended. "I'm playing too!"

"But you're way too big of a target," Ed reasons. "Let's make it difficult for her!"

Winry looks up at Ed on his perch. "But I can barely reach your foot! At least let me have the crutch."

Ed looks at the object in his hand, scrutinizing. He taps Al with it. "Al, make it shorter, will you?"

"Okay." Al kneels down, drawing a circle in the dirt and shortening the crutch by several inches.

"Aw, now it'll actually fit you," Winry muses.

"Shut up, Winry, before I have Al transmute you to the ground."

So it goes, the three kids playing until dinner, acting like the children they are, if only for a few hours. And it's perfect.

…

The following day, Edward and the Rockbells begin working on rehabilitation again.

He eats the breakfast Granny made, laden with all the protein and vitamins she says he needs (minus the milk, after much yelling), and now he's back in the physical therapy room with Winry beside him and Granny and Al somewhere outside the door. It hurts a little, knowing they still don't trust him enough to be alone, but he supposes he can't blame them. If he'd just watched them wreck themselves for days, he probably would want to keep an eye on them too.

Winry takes his arm, pulling him out of his thoughts, and guides him to the bar along the far wall. He feels a twinge of shame as his hand latches around the metal—no longer because he needs it to stay standing, but just because it's making him think about how vehemently he's been pushing away any kind of support for the past few months. He still doesn't want to rely on others, but a quick glance at Al's expressionless face and he knows it doesn't matter what he wants. He needs to just suck up his pride and accept it, like he'd finally begun doing before surgery. If there's any hope of getting through this in the time he's allotted himself, he simply can't do it alone.

So, he listens to the Rockbells. He listens for two days, four days, a week. And it is getting better. He doesn't feel as tired or worn, even though he's working just as hard as he tried to on his own. But even still, he can't help but feel like it's not enough. At this pace, is it really possible to do everything in a mere year?

A week and half into their work, as much as he's trying to stay positive, Edward finds himself becoming disheartened again by lack of progress. He can walk fine with the aid of the railing, his crutch, or somebody else's support, but it's all moving too slow. He keeps telling himself that's not the case, replaying Alphonse's words over and over in his mind, but it's getting difficult to believe. So he just steels himself in everyone else's words, clinging to his trust in them like a life preserver in the ocean.

It's harder than it should be.

Faintly, he hears Granny's voice break through his stupor, calling him for dinner, and he slowly makes his way to the dining room, a perpetual frown stuck to his face. Pinako makes immediate note of it, and she's pretty sure Winry does too, but neither of them comment. Not yet, at least. Ed drops into his seat with a huff, setting his elbow on the table and his head in his hand. Across the table, Al looks from Ed to Winry and tilts his head questioningly, to which Winry responds with a shrug. Pinako serves the children plates of eggs, bacon, and toast, watching as Ed absently picks up his fork and takes a bite, mind seeming still miles away. When the flavor of the egg registers, his brow furrows in confusion and he looks at his plate for the first time since arriving.

"It's not Wednesday," he says, frowning at the breakfast themed meal. Breakfast-for-dinner is a Wednesday thing, and last he checked, today is Monday. Pinako only makes breakfast once a week because the trains that supply Resembool with the majority of its meat products don't run as often during winter, and everyone in the house agrees that breakfast can't be complete without bacon. Thus, they ration out their stash during winter, and Ed knows breakfast night is Wednesday night, because it's his favorite meal of the week.

Pinako shrugs. "I thought you deserved a reward."

"For what?" he asks, stacking his fork with as much egg and bacon as he thinks he can get into his mouth.

"For all the progress you've made recently."

Suddenly, the pleasant taste on his tongue turns bitter, and his appetite diminishes, replaced with a faint sense of nausea. "What?"

Pinako looks at him like the answer couldn't be more obvious. "You've made a lot of progress in the past week."

The confusion on Ed's face twists into bitterness and he stabs the eggs again. "Yeah. I know."

Winry sighs nearly imperceptibly, getting up from the table and going to serve herself more bacon. Ed stares at his food, content to stew in his sour mood, when a surprised cry sounds from the kitchen, followed by a clatter. Winry.

Without thinking, Ed jumps up, running into the kitchen with frantic eyes. They fall on Winry, holding her right forearm and face screwed in pain, the spatula laying a few feet away on the floor. He quickly closes the distance between them. "What happened?! Are you okay?" He grabs her arm, revealing a fresh, already swelling burn mark.

Winry hisses in pain, but the moment her gaze meets his, she blinks in surprise. "E-Ed?"

But he's not listening, still focused on her injury. "How'd you do that? We need some—"

"Ed!" He falls silent, looking at her confusedly. She looks him up and down. "Y-you…"

It's only then that everything clicks. Ed blinks, mouth slightly agape, and he looks back, seeing Granny standing in the doorway with a similar expression and Al standing behind her. He can just see the dining table behind Al, and the small crutch still leaning against it.

He just ran into the kitchen.

He ran into the kitchen.

Actually ran.

On his own.

Suddenly, Pinako's shock melts into a wide, giddy grin, and Alphonse shrieks "Brother!" at the top of his non-existent lungs. After a moment, Ed feels his own face split into a grin. It stays that way when Pinako comes into the kitchen and takes Winry to the sink to get some cool water on her burn. It stays that way when Al rushes over and engulfs him in a bone-crushing hug. It even stays that way when the adrenaline fades and he finally feels too exhausted to stay standing on his own, and Al leads him back to the table to sit.

Winry and Granny come back a few minutes later, and even if her eyes are red with tears and her newly bandaged arm is clutched in her grip, Winry is wearing a smile just as big as Ed's. She walks up to him, smacking his head with her uninjured arm. "I told you you were making progress!" Her arm moves again and he tenses, but instead of another display of violence, it wraps tightly around him. After a hesitant moment, he returns the hug.

"Apparently even more than you thought," Granny adds from somewhere to the side.

"Shut up…" he grumbles, but he still can't force the grin off his face. When Winry pulls away, Ed looks at the three people around the table. All of them, in their own ways, are shining with pride. Ed can see it in Al's eyes, in Granny's smirk, and in Winry's tears. And...he's not exactly sure yet, but he thinks he's proud, too. Riding the wave of positivity, he finds himself admitting as much before he can stop it. "I...I can't believe I did that...I'm...kind of proud of myself..." The words feel foreign on his tongue; it's been a long time since he's said that. He can remember a time when he regularly took pride in his accomplishments, every time he showed Mom a new transmutation, or worked through complicated equations to decipher notes. This time, it feels different, though. He can't help but think of his idiot self just a week ago, on the verge of self-destruction, and marvel at how far he's come.

Suddenly, Winry's fist finds his head again. "You idiot! That's all we wanted this whole time! For you to be proud of yourself!"

Ed laughs, taking a happy bite of his dinner. The others return to theirs as well but the mood remains bright and celebratory, their special breakfast-dinner feeling even more warranted than before.

Finally taking pride in the simple things, are we, Elric?

Ed looks over his makeshift family one more time, smiling softly. He can do this. He can make things right. His eyes come to rest on Alphonse, and for the first time since it all began, he truly believes his little brother's metal prison is only temporary.

Did I get a title drop in there three times? Yes. Am I ashamed of it? ABSOLUTELY NOT!

I fully admit that when I titled this fic "Simple Things" I had absolutely no idea what it meant. But then I got to this chapter and I finally figured it out XD

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this one as much as I did! Writing that scene with Ed and Al made my heart so happy :3

Also, I've been making artwork for this story throughout its entire run, and have been posting them on the Fullmetal Alchemist Amino as its gone on, but if you don't have Amino, I plan on posting all of my artwork on Tumblr after I finish the story. I'll be sure to put a link when we get to the last chapter (whenever that might be, I'm still only in December, 1910 as of ch 21 *nervous laughter*)

Next time on Simple Things- Ch. 18: A Hint of Normal