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“I’m here about Colonel Mustang,” the young man declared. No salute, no deference shown to his rank, no greeting. Fuhrer Hakuro wasn’t sure whether to be affronted or amused. The Fullmetal Alchemist hadn’t changed a hair, at least personality wise. Prickly and to the point, just as he remembered.
He’d known the boy was coming; he’d been hoping to rope the boy back into service to the state ever since his sudden reappearance.
“What would you like to know? Besides his alchemical expertise, had shown excellent leadership, and went to great lengths to protect even our lowest ranking soldiers. He had a great deal of potential."
"Funny, from what I remember, you hated Mustang.”
“For a long time, I will admit I did. I'm not blind, I could see his ambition. How could I be blamed for not liking him? I spent the last thirty years clawing my way up to where I am. And some young upstart gets to Lieutenant Colonel at twenty-one. I was thirty three before I gained that rank.
“I kept a rather close eye on him... as close as I could without it seeming untoward. A war hero alchemist, plainly brilliant, but up to his neck in schemes and gunning for my position." A wry smile twisted on his lips.
“And yet, how can we thank him for exposing Fuhrer Bradley? You know, I was the one pushing for his execution, initially. Staging a coup, assassinating of the Fuhrer in his own home, murder of Selim Bradley, treason in the highest degree... but General Drummond wouldn't hear it. He insisted on the investigation when the rest of the council, myself included, were calling for Mustang's blood, and saved us from making a grave mistake. Even your young friend Ms. Rockbell spoke for Mustang's defense.
"Besides Ms. Douglas's immediate disappearance after his accusation, it was discovered that the bruises and fingerprints on poor child's neck were from Bradley himself." Cold, angry eyes leveled on Edward's. "It seemed the more we looked, the more we found that was linked to King Bradley or Juliet Douglas. It's shameful how much we didn't see. How much I didn’t see. So much going on right under our noses."
"If you owe him so much, why did you ship him off north?”
"Mustang was cleared of all charges, but he was a broken man. That ambition I hated him for was gone. He resigned his commission, swore off his alchemy, fell into depression. He enlisted as a common soldier after a while. Didn't know what to do with himself, I assume. Perhaps he was pressured into it, I couldn't really say.
“Strange, that day he left his post and appeared here in Central, that old fire was right back in him. And my soldiers followed his commands without question or hesitation. I suppose I should be grateful for that, but It does rather upset the chain of command.”
Elric sniffed, shifted on his feet, and Hakuro realized he was about to turn and walk out. The man had come for answers, and he hadn’t even thought to use that knowledge as leverage. If he was going to get the boy to represent the state again, he’d better make the offer before he disappeared again.
"In fact, I was hoping that perhaps your visit was in regards to picking up the pocketwatch again, so to speak. It would do the country good to have you serving the state again."
The boy paused, eyes unreadable, waiting. He plowed onward.
"You are a special case in every sense, Edward Elric. Extraordinary circumstances allowed for your commission; we would have been fools to turn you away. And the people love you. Even now, you're spoken of throughout Amestris as the Alchemist for the People. Quite a legacy."
"So, if I said I was interested in working for the state again, you might be able to make a couple concessions?"
A bark of deep laughter from Hakuro. "Well, your age is hardly an issue any more, but I suppose it couldn't hurt to hear you out, hm?"
"First, I want Mustang's commission and rank restored. If I'm to be a military dog again, he's the only one I trust with the leash."
Fuhrer Hakuro's eyebrows went up. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but that wasn't something I ever expected to hear from you. Corporal Mustang was never stripped of his rank, he resigned it. That being said, if he could be convinced to accept it again, consider that granted. I will personally ensure you answer directly to him. Was that all you wanted?" He peered knowingly at the young man before his desk.
"What's the rule concerning inter-military relationships?"
Hakuro's chuckle was deep and long. "Ah, so now we get to the real demands! We try to turn a blind eye to most relationships within our ranks. Morale is important, after all, and if it doesn't negatively affect their performance, it's best not to interfere."
"Most relationships?" Edward kept his voice tight and level.
"Of course there are some that can't be allowed. Every now and again you get the unscrupulous officer who pulls rank to get bed a private and the like, or the one whose only goal is to sleep up the ranks."
"So no commanding officers."
"Basically. So does that clear up any questions? Any other concessions you wanted to make before I give you this?" He lifted the silver pocketwatch by it's chain, swinging lightly.
"Permission to engage in a relationship with my commanding officer."
The watch clattered against the desk. "Are you--? You are joking, of course."
"No, sir."
Sir...?
"But he's-"
"Male. A decade older than me. I know all that."
The pocketwatch lay on the table between them. He'd been so sure he could meet every demand to bring the young man back into the ranks, but... "This is highly unusual-"
"You said yourself: state alchemists aren't the same as soldiers. You can bend the rules in my case. Well, those are my conditions. All you have to do is give the go-ahead. Hell, he might not even be interested, and if he's not, then it's no skin off your nose. But we're even going to have a chance, this can't be hanging over our heads. Either you agree and I sign on, or you don’t, and I’m outta here." Edward leaned fractionally closer. "You owe me."
"Fullmetal-" he cursed himself as the title slipped out. He’d just given away his hand.
“That a yes?”
He slid the pocketwatch across the deck, then picked up a pen and scratched out a note on his stationary. “Give this to the quartermaster. Have it delivered here. And tell my secretary to summon Corporal Mustang to my office this afternoon.” His lips curled downward into an unconvincing scowl. “You’d better be worth it.”
A bark of laughter, and the boy scooped the memo and pocketwatch off the desk, quite deliberately scratching the finish with his metal fingers, before striding out the door, not bothering to be dismissed.