Chapter Text
The buildings stood tall all over the streets, buzzing softly at night alive with a subdued energy that ebbed and flowed like the tide. Street lights flickered intermittently above storefronts, and the air still carried the faint smoke of the cars. In comparison to the lush, rolling hills of Resembool, where the Elric brothers had spent their childhood lives, Central City seemed vast and bustling.
Edward and Alphonse stood together at the edge of the main street, taking in the sights. The younger brother, Alphonse, looked calmly out at the metropolis in front of them. The distant sounds of a street musician playing a violin blended with the quiet chatter and sporadic giggles of onlookers as they drifted into the night. This was a new experience for them; they were not on the run. For the first time in a long while, they could simply breathe.
"It’s surprisingly busy for this hour," Edward said in a low whisper. His hands sat comfortably in the pockets of his well-worn red coat as he leaned slightly back to enjoy the view. "What do you think, Al?"
Alphonse stopped and cocked his head, thinking for a moment. He responded in a cool, collected manner. "They’re just living their lives."
"Living their lives, huh?" The tone of Edward's response was slightly sarcastic. He saw a bunch of young people laughing loudly together, and his golden eyes squinted. "It must be wonderful to be worry-free, isn't it?"
After a brief silence, Alphonse began walking toward the town square, where the music grew louder and more inviting. After a brief pause during which he muttered to himself, Edward quickly followed, his boots reverberating gently against the damp cobblestones below. The surrounding area was filled with bustle; food carts lined the sidewalks, their merchants yelling loudly at prospective consumers, while others offered eye-catching, colorful wares. In the center of the square, a small crowd had gathered around a performer—a puppeteer who had set up a traveling stage.
Laughter erupted from the audience, drawing Edward and Alphonse’s attention to the stage. The puppeteer, an elderly gentleman with a rough beard and kind eyes, skillfully manipulated two simple wooden puppets on strings. The crowd watched with bright smiles as the puppets moved awkwardly, creating an amusing display as they pretended to chase each other.
Edward crossed his arms, shifting his weight as he watched. "A puppet show? What are we, five?" he said with an edge of impatience yet curious.
Unfazed, Alphonse gave him a quick look with a faint chuckle. "Come on, it’s not every day you get free entertainment, brother."
Before Edward could voice another complaint, Alphonse stepped forward, drawn into the throng of people. Alphonse’s large suit of armor caught the attention of many, but he paid no mind to the stares. The puppeteer's setup, including the worn wooden stage, the mismatched curtains hanging limply, and the marionettes with paint markings from years of enjoyment and use, caught Edward's attention as he remained behind at the edge, with a slight grin peeking through as he watched.
The puppeteer's tale was straightforward but charming—a knight desperately trying to save a princess from a clumsy dragon. Laughter and cheers broke out from the audience as the marionettes moved with a certain awkwardness that only made them more appealing. Children squealed with delight as the puppet dragon chased the knight around in circles, waving its wooden sword in a ridiculous manner. The crowd's giggles only became more dramatic as the knight staggered and fumbled.
To Alphonse’s surprise, Edward let out an uproarious laugh, a sound so genuine that it attracted the attention of nearby spectators. In that brief moment, Edward appeared younger and lighter, his usual bravado replaced by a glimpse of childlike joy. Alphonse noticed this shift and his expression softened.
"You ended up enjoying yourself more than I thought you would, brother," Alphonse replied quietly, his voice tinged with amusement.
“Of course! Take a look at this man—what a genius!” The excitement in Edward’s voice filled the air as he pointed toward the puppeteer. Edward pointed at the puppeteer, and the air was filled with the enthusiasm in his voice. Once again, the awkward yet charming knight puppet staggered across the stage. This incident caused a contagious mood of excitement as waves of laughter rippled through the audience.
Alphonse shook his head lightly and let out a soft chuckle as the audience reacted. “I suppose it’s refreshing to see something normal for a change,” he remarked, watching the scene unfold.
By repeating the word "Normal," Edward let the message cling to the air. His joyful smile gave way to a more contemplative one, where layers of thinking were visible beneath the surface. “Yeah, I suppose it is,” he conceded, his gaze fixed on the performance.
The knight puppet ultimately triumphed over the dragon, accomplishing the feat with a well-timed slip that sent the fearsome beast tumbling off the stage, much to the delight of the spectators. The audience erupted into cheers, reveling in the unexpected turn of events. As the knight’s victory was celebrated, the princess made her reappearance, and the marionettes engaged in a clumsy but charming little dance that added to the lighthearted atmosphere. Edward clapped enthusiastically, urging Alphonse to join in the applause. Although Alphonse’s clapping was quieter, it showed genuine appreciation for the performance.
“The last blow used alchemy, Al. I guess it’s hard to see anything truly ordinary these days,” Edward commented, a playful grin returning to his face.
Alphonse paused for a second longer, watching the puppeteer pack up his stage with enthralled attention. With his hands weary yet skillful, the elder man tucked away his equipment with a smoothness that came from years of practice. A little boy nearby, who might have been the puppeteer's grandson, laughed at his own awkward attempts to lend a hand.
“They look happy,” In a quiet, thoughtful voice, Alphonse watched. There was a trace of nostalgia, a longing for the good old days, in his statements.
Edward tilted his head, deep in thought. “Yeah. They do. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? "How they manage to keep going," he continued, analyzing the image in a contemplative tone.
Alphonse nodded, his gaze still focused on the interaction between the puppeteer and the child. There was something deep inside him, something he hadn’t touched in a long time, stirred by the sight before him. At last, he whispered, "Mom would have liked this," with a mixture of sadness and compassion.
Edward’s expression shifted from lightheartedness to a somber demeanor. With a shadow of his past emotions in his eyes, he pushed his hands into his pockets and his smile faded. "Yeah," he said in a shaky voice. “She would have. She likely would have dragged us to the front row.”
Nodding, Alphonse said, "And she would be laughing the loudest." His voice was almost audible above a whisper.
Edward gave him a quick glance, his face unreadable. His voice began to sound vulnerable as he questioned, "Do you miss her?"
Alphonse paused and looked down at the sidewalk. He finally said, "I do not know," with a tinge of doubt in his voice. “Maybe.”
As the bustling square around them started to turn to night, they stood silently. The sounds of a violin played faintly in the background, reminding them of something lost. Edward felt a glimmer of warmth rising inside him as he raised his eyes to the dim streetlights above.
After a moment, Alphonse added gently, “Do you ever think about Dad?”
This question caught Edward off guard. His eyes flared with emotion, and he turned quickly to face Alphonse. “Why would I? That bastard left us. Left her,” His tone showed the pain as he spat.
Despite the sadness that lingered in Alphonse’s voice, he remained composed. “He wasn’t always like that. Don’t you remember when he would read to us? Or how he…”
“No, Alphonse,” Edward interrupted sharply, his words cutting through the air. “I don’t remember. And you shouldn’t either. He’s not worth it.”
Alphonse hesitated, looking down at his hands as he weighed his response. “Maybe not. But still… sometimes… I miss him.”
Edward stared at his brother. He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it, shaking his head. Finally, he spoke in a quieter voice, “You miss the idea of him. Not who he really was.”
Alphonse chose not to respond. The silence that followed felt weighty, as though it held unspoken feelings neither of them were ready to share.
The silence grew thin yet unbroken as they stayed in that moment. Then Edward sighed, shaking his head reluctantly. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”
He senses a small lift at the corners of Alphonse's mouth. “And yet, here you are.”
Edward rolled his eyes, although the motion was devoid of any actual heat. The sound of his boots crunching against the sidewalk filled the quiet air as he turned away and began to walk, leaving behind the conversation without another word. Alphonse trailed behind him with a light step, mimicking his movements. The streets around them fell silent as they ambled through the dimly lit night, shadows deepening around them yet feeling oddly comforting.
The chilly night air still carried the tempting aroma of freshly baked bread, even though the bakery's windows were dark when they passed it. Edward abruptly came to a halt and fixed his intense gaze on the bakery entrance. His face twisted into a frown, and his jaw tightened. "What is it?" With a look of concern, Alphonse stopped next to him and questioned.
After a while, Edward answered, nodding toward the sign that hung just above the door and swaying softly in the night wind. “Mom used to bake bread like that,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Didn’t she?”
Alphonse's gesture softened at the mention of their mother. “Yeah. She did. You remember how she’d hum while she kneaded the dough?” The warmth of the memory brought a slight smile to Alphonse’s lips.
Edward scoffed lightly, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Barely. It feels like it was forever ago.” The message lingered in the air, laden with emotions that were not expressed.
Alphonse remained quiet, aware of the unease creeping between them. As they resumed walking, the silence was filled with memories neither of them could express. The smoke that remained from the day's tumult covered the stars above them, making them flicker weakly. Alphonse glanced upward, slowing his pace a little. His tone was slightly hopeful as he questioned softly, "Do you think she’s watching us?"
Edward stopped again, turning to face Alphonse. “What kind of question is that?”
With a small, doubtful shrug, Alphonse expressed his uncertainty. "I have no idea. I just... wondered.
Edward sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if trying to ease the weight of his thoughts. “If she is, she’s probably shaking her head at how much we bicker.” The thought brought a fleeting smile to his lips.
Alphonse let out a short laugh, a sound that broke the tension in the air. “Maybe.”
They continued walking in silence until they reached the outskirts of the town, where the moonlight bathed everything in a soft glow. A distant howl of the wind cut through the stillness, sending a chill through them.
Taking a deep breath, Edward finally spoke again, this time his voice lower, almost lost in the night. “We’ve got nowhere to go, you know. No home.”
Alphonse met his gaze, steady and unwavering. “We have each other.”
“You’re too optimistic for your own good.” Edward let out a bitter laugh.
“Maybe. But it’s true,” Alphonse replied, gesturing around them. “We keep moving forward and work really hard to regain our bodies. And I think that’s enough for me.”
Though Edward didn’t respond verbally, the tension in his shoulders lessened a little. For a fleeting moment, the only sounds were the whisper of the wind and the soft chirping of crickets in the nearby fields.
“You know,” Edward started, his voice low and filled with hesitation, “I can’t even remember what her voice sounded like anymore.”
Alphonse turned toward him, the creaking of his armor echoing in the quiet. The moonlight danced off his metallic frame, casting soft reflections, but his voice was gentle and compassionate. “You remember it more than you think. Every time we talk about her—the way she laughed, how she’d scold us for staying up late reading alchemy books—it’s all still there, brother. Even if it’s not clear.”
Edward’s jaw tightened at the reminder, and he looked down, kicking a small pebble into the grass. “Sometimes I think about how things could’ve been. If she was still here… if we hadn’t…” The heaviness of his words lingered, and his voice faltered as he fought against the weight of his emotions. With his fingers clasped in his pockets, he bowed his head and let his golden hair fall into his eyes.
“She wouldn’t want us to think like that. She’d want us to keep going. To find happiness, even if it’s just a little at a time.”
"Yeah, well, that's easier said than done," Edward remarked with bitterness lacing his words.
“I know,” Alphonse admitted softly. “But we’ll keep trying, right? For both of us.”
Edward met his brother’s gaze, his expression softening slightly despite the lingering grief behind his eyes. “You’re such a sap, Al.”
Alphonse's laughter filled the night, a soothing sound that cut through the chill of the evening air. “Maybe. But I’m your sap.”
As Edward turned to reminisce over the fields beyond the village, he saw tall grass swaying gently in the breeze and shimmering under the moonlight. He inhaled deeply, allowing the cool air to fill his lungs, and for that brief moment, he felt the heaviness in his chest begin to lift, even just a little.
“You’re right,” he finally said, barely audible above a whisper. “We’ve got to keep moving. For her.” His words hung in the air like a heavy but necessary weight.
Alphonse nodded in agreement, his helmet shifting slightly as he followed Edward’s gaze into the distance. “For her.”
They remained side by side for several moments, allowing the silence to envelop them. It wasn’t a comfortable silence filled with ease, but it was not entirely painful either. This silence carried their shared sorrow, their grief weighing down like an anchor. Yet, it also held their resolve, weaving their determination together in a bond stronger than before.
At last, Edward broke the stillness. His gaze shifted to the road ahead as he stuffed his hands farther into his pockets. “Come on, Al. Let’s head back before I start to become sentimental like you.” His tone held a blend of jest and sincerity.
Alphonse let out a soft chuckle, an echo of warmth piercing through the heaviness. He followed Edward's lead and replied, "I will take that as a compliment," with a hint of laughter concealed in his voice.
Edward rolled his eyes, a familiar gesture between them, but he held his tongue. Instead, he kept a steady pace as they made their way back toward the town. The darkness of the night enveloped them, yet the landscape was alive.
Though the night was laden with memories that tugged at their hearts, the Elric brothers continued forward. They moved together, and each step felt like a silent promise, a commitment to honor her memory as they pressed on through the shadows.