Chapter Text
Central Headquarters was bustling with the usual activity expected on a perfectly sunny Monday afternoon. In the office of said Central Headquarters, Lt. Colonel Roy Mustang was currently slaving away at his ever-growing pile of paperwork.
Mindlessly signing papers involving some conflict outside Central was not how he wanted to spend his day, but anything was better than slacking off in the presence of Hawkeye. Well, that and he didn’t have to deal with― “Yo Mustang! You’ll never guess what my darling Elicia did today!” Nevermind .
He let out a sigh. “Yes, Hughes?”
“Oh, it was the cutest thing! She went out to Miss Florence’s yard and picked out the loveliest flowers for her tea party.”
“Hughes,”
“Only, she wouldn’t let me into her room. Just my beloved Gracia. She said it was for girls only. Isn’t Elicia so mature Roy? She’s already a beautiful young lady.”
“Hughes,”
“Oh, and for some reason, Miss Florence complained to me that her flowers keep going missing and how she was gonna report me to the authorities. What’s up with that?”
“ Hughes ,”
The first lieutenant stepped in. “ Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, sir. You are disrupting the Colonial's work.” Hughes sweatdropped at this, fearing he angered Hawkeye. Under her breath, she added, “though your interruption probably only motivated him to actually attempt it.” She ignored Mustang’s indignant cry from beside her and spoke loudly once more. “If you have something to say then please do so now.”
At this reminder, Maes Hughes took up a straight posture and sobered immediately, face grim. Upon noticing his drastic change in expression, Mustang paused what he was doing and straightened up as well. “Yes, well I was hoping to delay telling you this. To figure out how, at the very least,” Hughes began, “but the homicides in Resembool. There was another one on Saturday night.”
Hawkeye tensed considerably. Mustang inhaled sharply. “A-another one?” he gasped. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Hughes could only solemnly shake his head in response.
“I have the pictures to prove it,” he said.
The Resembool murders were brutal. Victims were mutilated, transfigured beyond recognition. One young man had even been found missing the entire left side of his body. It never showed back up. With the increase in military investigators sent to the East, it had seemed the murderer, monster , he corrected, had finally turned coward and run. Apparently, they were only taking a three-month break.
“I’m sorry to hear that Colonel,” Hawkeye responded.
“And to think,” Mustang chuckled mirthlessly, “That not even 50 well trained military personnel were able to deter this monster.”
Hughes grimaced. “Actually, they did far more than discourage him,” he said. “Our murderer was caught. They even have a corpse to prove it.”
Maybe it was something in his friend’s voice. Maybe it was the way he couldn’t look in Mustang’s eyes. Either way, Mustang thought that Maes Hughes believed the words he just spouted to be nonsense. He voiced his thoughts.
Hughes wordlessly reached for the manila folder he had tucked under his arm. It had been invisible in contrast to the blinding shock that came when realizing another innocent Amestrian would no longer be able to see their family tonight. The normally cheery man cautiously handed it over to his friend, staring at the folder as if it committed the murders itself.
Hawkeye and Mustang both turned to Hughes with an inquisitive stare. Why should they be seeing this?
Hughes met their questioning glances head on and nodded in an attempt to encourage them. Curious, and admittedly scared, the flame colonel opened the beige folder and immediately blanched. Hearing Hawkeye’s breath catch led Roy to the conclusion that she had a similar reaction. What the hell?
On top of several documents sat a picture of a blonde haired, golden eyed boy. A detailed physical description was listed alongside it, mentioning an automail arm and leg. Had it been under any other circumstances, Roy would have curiously wondered how this came to be. Probably would’ve given a glance of pity and moved on with his day. But this case was considered the most brutal and horrible occurrence of bloodshed in the East since Ishval. Dozens of murders, all accused on a boy who didn’t look a day over thirteen. Suddenly, Roy understood why Hughes couldn’t fully believe that the murderer had been found.
“Maes, please tell me this is some sick joke.”
“I’m afraid not Roy,” Hughes said. “This is the man who’s been found guilty of exactly 64 homicides on the Eastern front. Edward Elric, age 15.”
“W-what does this have to do with me?”
“I need your help, Roy. I believe that this boy is innocent. And you’re gonna help me prove it.”
“Wrath, do you mean to tell me that you’re sending Mustang to watch over that Elric boy?”
“I can see no better distraction at the given moment.”
“No better―ugh! You’ve got to be kidding me! You’re gonna lead him right to us!”
“Calm down now. This is exactly the opportunity we need. With central intelligence and the flame colonel’s attention focused on the boy, we’ve eliminated any suspicions that will be placed on the military's involvement. Let those dogs sniff about in Resembol, we’re finished there anyways.”
“And if Mustang figures out the truth?”
“If Mustang discovers something he shouldn’t then we’ll arrange an unfortunate accident for him. Say, we can move Elric to Central Prison. It holds a lot of Ishvalan war criminals. It wouldn’t be unbelievable that they were overcome by a desire to avenge their fallen comrades.”
“Well, I guess that wouldn’t be our only advantage.”
“Oh?”
“If the fullmetal pipsqueak is moved to central then we have our most promising candidate right in our grasp.”