Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Neko's Confusion ❯ A Surprising Addition ( Chapter 1 )

Stumbling out the door from the bar, the raven-haired man and his smoking companion laughed drunkenly. A woman followed after them, one hand nudging a gun strapped to her hip absentmindedly. "Colonel," started the woman, "be reasonable. You need to go home."

 

The colonel shook his head. "No way," he slurred, "there's gotta be somethin' goin' on."

 

The blond-haired, smoking man grinned. "Yeah," he agreed, "I mean, I heard there was a party down at Hughes' neighbors."

 

The colonel laughed. "Yeah right, Havoc," he said, "I bet there is. Next you'll be telling me Fullmetal's the Fuhrer!-- What's that?"

 

The woman blinked. The colonel had seen a small boy lying against the brick wall, breathing slowly and raggedly. She stepped forward. He was bloodied and beaten, and looked like he was in a lot of pain. He also looked a lot like someone who had stolen Edward's coat and put the hood up, though the coat was ripped terribly. Kneeling, she regarded his face. An amount of blond hair cascaded into his eyes, shadowing his face slightly. But it DID look like Ed. "Colonel Mustang," she said, turning to look at him. "Take a look."

 

"What is it?" asked Mustang and Havoc at the same time, both bending down to examine the woman's find.

 

"It's Edward," she said simply.

 

Mustang stared at her, becoming serious instantly. "Hawkeye," he said, "are you serious?"

 

Hawkeye nodded. "Yes," she replied, "I believe it is. We'll have to take him somewhere. Let's go back to HQ." She got up, took "Edward" in her arms, and headed to the car. Seating him in the backseat and buckling him quietly, she beckoned to Havoc and Mustang. The two men followed her into the car, laughing heartily once more, and she got into the front seat, rolling her eyes. Ed, sitting in the backseat, sat limply in it, head against the windowsill.

 

Mustang poked him. "Eh... kid..." The kid didn't wake up though. "Fine then," complained the colonel drunkenly, "I just won't talk to you then."

 

Hawkeye gave him a glance in the rearview mirror. "Colonel, stop being annoying."

 

Mustang rolled his eyes. "I'm not," he replied, "I'm try'na make conversation.. Cantcha see dat?"

 

Havoc looked back at him and grinned. "Well, yer not goin' about it the righ' way, now are yeh?"

 

"Sure I am!" protested the drunk colonel. "He's juss not talkin back!"

 

"Colonel," said Hawkeye, eyes still on the road, "he's unconscious."

 

Mustang frowned and looked out the window moodily for a while, until he grinned and looked up. "Hey Havoc," he said, "remember that chick with the beard?" Both of them cracked up again and laughed all the way back to HQ.

 

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A few hours later, the two men were sobered up a bit and ready to contemplate the little boy. Mustang stared at him. "He does look like Fullmetal," he mused. "But what would he be doing lying in an alleyway? He's got more sense than that."

 

Hawkeye nodded. "Yes, sir, but don't you think it's strange he would by lying on the side of the road all beaten up?"

 

Havoc shrugged, and grinned. "Maybe he was in a barfight," he suggested.

 

Hawkeye glared at him. "He's a minor," she said simply. "He's not about to run into a bar and get into a fight, now is he?"

 

The colonel shook his head. "No, bvt he DOES get into fights a lot," he replied.

 

"Fights he was FORCED into, I might add," replied Hawkeye, scowling disdainfully. She gave the boy another glance. His hood was poking up in two places, as if he had something attached to his head, but the peaks weren't moving, so she didn't think anything of it. "We need to get him bandaged," she announced. "He's got a bad head wound. And a lot of minor cuts and scratches all over his body."

 

Mustang started hooting with laughter again. He was stil a little drunk. "How do you know?" he asked. "Did you look under his clothes, First Lieutenant?"

 

"No, sir," replied Hawkeye, "his blood has soaked through his clothes in multiple spots. We'll have to examine him more fully later. Just for that, you can do it," she added, fingering her gun dangerously. Mustang frowned at her, but remained silent, looking the red-cloaked boy over a little more.

 

"So," began Havoc, "what do we do now?"

 

"Wake him up, I suppose," suggested Hawkeye, nudging the boy's arm. The boy didn't respond, however, so Mustang got right up in his face, still having a bit of the intoxicating fluid in his bloodstream.

 

"Hey. Fullmetal." The boy's eyes fluttered weakly open, and the three soldiers could see they were the very same gold as Edward's were, though a little different looking.

 

"Is it him, then?" asked Havoc, squinting at the boy's darkened eyes. The boy looked back at him with cloudy eyes, but he didn't say anything.

 

Hawkeye shrugged, and nodded to the boy, who was looking around confusedly. "Are you Edward?" she asked simply, though the boy stayed quiet. The only thing he said was, "Who're you?"

 

Hawkeye stared at him in confusion. "First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye," she replied dumbly. "Don't you already know that?"

 

"No," replied the boy. He gripped his head suddenly. "It hurts.."

 

"Yes," said Hawkeye, nodding. "You have a bad head wound. Go with Colonel Mustang. He'll clean you up a bit."

 

"I will?" asked Mustang, confused. Hawkeye glared at him. "Oh, right, I will." He stood up to lead the boy off, but he was too weak and Mustang ended up carrying him. Arriving in the bathroom, the older man asked, "Do you need help?" But his question was a little late, because the boy had already taken off his hood to reveal the black clothing underneath, with a surprising addition: atop his head sat a pair of twitching, tan-colored cat ears, and he had a tail the same color. Mustang stared for a minute, and decided the whiskey had gone to his head. The man couldn't help it, but he stared at the tail and ears as the boy slipped into the steamy liquid, coloring it dark with his blood. He could see a dark mark around the base of the boy's tail, as if it had been cut and the tail had been attached brutally. "I'll get you some clothes, then, Fullmetal."

 

The boy looked up. "Fullmetal?" he asked, shaking a wet, bloody lock of tangled flaxen hair out of his eyes. "Who's that?"

 

Mustang stared at him again. "You," he replied. "You're Edward, right? You're the Fullmetal Alchemist."

 

Edward flicked a bloody ear. "So... I'm an alchemist?" he asked, confused.

 

"Yes," replied Mustang. "And a damn good one at that."

 

"Oh..." The small alchemist picked up a cloth and dipped it in the bloody water carefully. His flesh arm and automail arm were no longer the same size. The metal one was bigger, and that had happened with the boy's legs as well. It made him look like he would walk around with a limp. Ed finished washing himself, but couldn't get his ears without hurting himself, so he bent over and dipped his whole ehead in the water. When he raised his head again, shaking wet blond hair out of his eyes, Mustang could see the same sickening quality around the boy's ears, looking as if they had just been attached by some crazy scientist. Most likely, they had.

 

Standing pu and leaving a dry white towel on the chair beside the wooden tub, Mustang announced, "Come back to the office when you're done, Fullmetal," before leaving the steamy room. Edward stared after him, hoisted himself out of the bloody water and dried himself off, making sure to be easy on his ears and tail. Wrapping the towel around himself like a cloak, he left the room.

 

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When Edward got back to the office, he found himself stared at by Hawkeye, Havoc and Mustang. He quickly slipped underneath the table at the side of the room and sat, knees drawn up to his chin, tail wrapped around his legs and ears folded back.

 

Hawkeye approached him. "Edward?" she asked, bending down and extending a hand, "will you come out?"

 

The frightened chimera shook his head. They were staring at him, and he didn't like it. Hawkeye backed up and looked to her superior. "Colonel," she said, "you try."

 

He nodded and knelt down in front of the table. "Edward, come out from there." Surprisingly, the boy did what the colonel ordered, but hid behind the raven-haired man.

 

Hawkeye smiled, a rare expression coming from her. "He's taken to you, I suppose, Colonel. Now we don't have to find a place to stay for him."

 

Mustang stared at her. "What..? Stay at my house...?"

 

"Well, did you expect him to stay with me?" she asked, sighing. "I have Black Hayate, remember? He'd be scared out of his wits. Much more than he is now."

 

"What wits?" asked Havoc stupidly, wiggling his cigarette. "He doesn't seem to have any right now."

 

A hiss sounded behind Mustang, who grinned spitefully. "He doesn't seem to like you much, Second Lieutenant," remarked the dark-haired man.

 

Havoc rolled his eyes. "He's just gotta warm up to me," he protested.

 

Mustang turned around to look at the chimera boy. "I wonder why he doesn't remember anyone," he remarked, putting a hand to his chin in thought. "Maybe it was part of the transmutation."

 

Hawkeye nodded. "Perhaps," she replied. "But even Tucker's chimera retained its memories. Maybe Edward knew something he wasn't supposed to before he was transmuted."

 

"I wonder what it was," said Mustang, "if anything." He felt a tug at his blue sleeve. Edward had his small hand on it, pulling it downwards. Mustang knelt down to look at him. He hadn't noticed before, but instead of regular, circular pupils, the elder Elric had gained slitted, catlike ones. "What is it?" he asked.

 

"Um..." Ed trailed off and looked down.

 

"What is it?" asked Mustang, cocking his head.

 

".....I'm sleepy," said the catboy, letting out a wide yawn that sounded more like a drawn out mew.

 

Mustang nodded. "Let's go back to my house, then," he suggested, "and I'll call your mechanic in the morning to come work on your arm and leg."

 

"Mechanic...?" wondered the smallest Elric. "What's a mechanic?" Mustang stared at him. He had forgotten that much?

 

"Well," began Mustang, "it's a person who works on automail, and cars, and other machines."

 

"Automail... Like this?" asked Ed, lifting up his disproportionate arm.

 

Mustang nodded. "Yes," he said, "just like that. Like your leg, too." He decided he was sober enough now, and stood back up. "Shall we leave?" Ed nodded, and Mustang started to walk out the door. He heard clanking behind him, and a thump. Turning around, he noted that Ed had managed to fall over on his face, having too much of a difference between his legs. Mustang sighed and scooped the little catboy up again. "We'll get you some clothes once we're at my house," he offered. "I'll shrink some for you."

 

Hawkeye stared after the pair once the colonel and his new companion had left the room. "He's never that nice," she remarked. Havoc nodded. "Something must be up," he agreed.

 

"Unless...." Hawkeye trailed off. "Well, what if he genuinely likes him?"

 

"Fat chance," said Havoc, "the taisa doesn't entirely LIKE anyone. 'Cept maybe you," he added, grinning. He stopped, though, when Hawkeye pulled her gun out slightly. "Okay, okay, I take it back," he said.

 

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Meanwhile, Mustang drove back to his house, Edward sitting on the other seat beside him sleepily. "I don't think you want to go to sleep naked," he explained, "so if I were you I'd stay up until we get there."

 

Reaching the large house, Mustang went around to the passenger side of the car, picked Ed up, and stepped inside his house, locking the door again from the inside. "Alright," he began, "I'll make you some pajamas, then." He left the boy on the couch, and hurried upstairs to get some of his own. A flash of light emerged from the bedroom, and Mustang returned to the living room, poking the sleepy chimera awake again. "Here," he said, "you can wear these. There's a hole for your tail, by the way."

 

Ed took them from him, and managed to pull the light clothes on. Standing there in still-too-big pajamas, the little chimera looked forlornly up at Mustang. "What's your name..?" he asked quietly.

 

Mustang, taken aback, replied, "Roy," before realizing this was probably not what Ed would want to call him. However, the boy looked satisfied, climbed up on the couch, and curled up into a tight ball. He was asleep immediately. Roy looked at him for a few minutes, and then went upstairs to sleep off the rest of the alcohol.