Chapter Text
Where the Road Pauses: A Fullmetal Alchemist Short Story
“Are you guys staying for the festival tomorrow night?” Winry asked, setting down a wrench with a clink. The workbench was cluttered with bolts and oil-smudged tools, and the room had a faint smell of grease. Golden sunlight filtered through the grimy windows, making the dust dance in the air and long shadows that stretched across the room.
I looked up from the book I’d been trying to focus on, and turned more towards Winry. “There’s a festival?”
“Yeah,” she said, her voice bright with excitement as she brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her face. “We do it every year to celebrate the coming of spring! It’s really fun—lights, music, food. The whole town shows up.”
Even the brief description sent my heart racing with excitement, but uncertainty tangled with it; as much as I longed to go, doubt pressed in. Edward, his brother, Alphonse, and I had been all over the country recently researching a theory that Ed had been working on.
I had only tagged along because I was desperate to travel and see the world. Every new city, every breathtaking view, thrilled me, but lately, I was starting to appreciate the smaller things in life. Never would I admit that I was starting to want to settle down, because that would feel like defeat. And, well, I couldn’t imagine leaving Edward behind. He had become such an integral part of my life, a comforting presence that made the idea of stopping feel a little less frightening.
Yet at the same time, my mind wandered for a moment to picture it: paper lanterns, children with arms stocked with sweets running with glee, music playing from somewhere just out of sight.
I smiled at the thought, and my eyes slid to Edward. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed and boots stained from the endless traveling. The light hit his face just right, like it always seemed to.
Maybe he and I could—
“I was hoping to get a train ticket to Central tomorrow morning,” he said, his gaze already a step ahead. “We’re getting close, Winry. I can feel it.”
“Sorry,” Alphonse added softly.
Edward glanced at me and opened his mouth like he was about to ask me something, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle talking about this anymore right now.
I shut my book with a sigh, the words on the page meaningless now. “I think I’m going to take a walk. Get some fresh air,” I said, trying for a smile. I grabbed my jacket and slipped out the door.
Outside, the air was cool and refreshing, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers and freshly tilled soil. I paused and listened to see if anybody would come after me. If he would come after me. Voices were faintly coming through the door. I couldn’t quite understand what they were saying, but I didn’t need to.
It was a pattern without outliers. A never-ending cycle that kept repeating itself no matter the circumstances. There would be an event of some kind, whether it was a holiday, birthday, or just a small hangout; it didn’t matter. Winry would always try to convince us to stay, and Edward always turned her down in favor of his research.
The gravel crunched under my boots as I wandered toward the edge of town, where the road curved along the fields, and the fading sunlight painted the sky in fiery streaks of orange and pastel purples and pinks. Children’s laughter drifted in the wind, accompanied by the distant sounds of crickets waking up, but they felt more like a reminder of what I was missing than a comfort.
My mind churned with thoughts that I couldn’t quite shake. Edward always had a mission, a goal, a reason to keep moving forward. I admired it, of course I did, but sometimes I wished he’d stop chasing long enough to notice what was right in front of him. What he already had.
The festival sounded like the perfect chance with its lights, music, and a moment to just relax and be with him. But it wasn’t us. Not now. Maybe not ever.
The trail sloped gently down through tall grass and opened up near the edge of a narrow river. The water moved slowly, its surface broken now and then by a ripple or the flick of a fish’s tail. The grass brushed against my calves, and the wind moved gently through the leaves, rustling like pages. A flat rock jutted out near the bank, half-warmed by the day’s sun. I sat down on it, pulling my knees up, the stone rough beneath my palms.
Birdsongs drifted from the trees, and somewhere across the river, a door creaked open, followed by the clatter of dishes and a woman’s voice calling to someone just out of earshot. The houses on the far side of the bank had porch lights flickering to life, one by one. The glow spilled out across the yards like spilled paint. You could hear the hum of life in the distance. The dogs barking, laughter, and a window shutting against the breeze.
I noticed a small canoe further down the bank, its paint chipped and faded. Wasn’t there an annual canoe race in the summer? Or was that another town? I couldn’t remember. I tilted my head back and let out a long sigh.
The sound of hurried footsteps on the gravel behind me startled me. I turned, and there he was. Edward, his jacket slung over one shoulder, seemed to be looking for something. Then, his eyes landed on mine, and he started to jog towards me, his expression focused.
“Hey, Ed,” I said, warmth spreading in my chest like a blanket over the earlier disappointment.
He came. He really, really came.
He slowed to a stop, rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous. “Hi.”
“What’s up?” I crossed my arms and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.
He looked away, clearly uncomfortable, and kicked at a loose rock on the ground. “Al wouldn’t shut up about it,” he muttered.
“About the festival?”
He exhaled sharply and nodded, his golden bangs falling into his face as he finally met my gaze. “He said… Well, he said you’d probably want to go. And that maybe we should stay for it.”
“And what do you say?”
“Trains are uncomfortable anyway,” he said.
I blinked. I could feel a broad smile quickly start to overtake my expression.
“Just for that one night,” he said quickly, holding up a hand to stop any overreaction. “Don’t get too excited. But I thought maybe, if you wanted to, I could…” He trailed off, but took another breath. “What I’m trying to say is: do you want to go together?”
My breath caught, and I stared at him, unsure if I’d heard him right. “You want to take me to the festival? Like, a date?”
His face turned bright red, and he looked anywhere but at me. “Yeah, I mean, I just… I figured you’d like it. And maybe it’d be fun or something.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Hold on. Did Winry put you up to this as well?”
Edward’s eyes suddenly locked on mine, his pupils wide. “What? No, why would you think that?”
I had reasons. I had plenty of very explainable reasons, and yet, why couldn’t I just let myself have this? I mean, how often did your best friend and crush ask you out? Besides, now that I thought about it, if Winry had tried to get him to ask me out, he wouldn’t have done it due to his stubborn nature.
Joy bloomed up through my chest so suddenly I almost laughed, relief and disbelief tangled together. “You’re serious.”
He gave a small, almost bashful smile.
Something inside me gave way, and I stepped forward, slow, unsure at first, and then wrapped my arms around him.
His body tensed in surprise. But then, he relaxed. And after a heartbeat, his arms came around me too. We stood there, the hush of the river behind us, the trees swaying overhead. He held me steadily. Like someone I could lean into if I let myself.
Eventually, I stepped back, still smiling. My hands lingered just a second longer on his sleeves. “Yeah, I’d love to go with you.”
His gaze softened, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Okay. Cool. Yeah,” he said, like he was trying to figure out how to breathe.
I smiled at him, at a loss for words, and my face felt just as red as he looked. I still couldn’t believe what had just happened.
“Come on," he said, gesturing back toward the house. “We should head back before Winry starts yelling again.”
The following day was pretty normal. That was, until after lunch, when Winry grabbed my arm with an excited grin and dragged me to the clothing store in town.
“We have to find the perfect outfit for us,” Winry said, her voice bubbling with excitement as she scanned the racks. “Even if it means trying on every single dress in this store.”
I sighed, already feeling tired at the possibility. “This is going to take a while, isn’t it?”
Winry grinned at me over her shoulder. “Definitely. But it’ll be worth it! Trust me.”
I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. She was glowing with energy, practically bouncing from one display to the next. I followed her, running my fingers over the fabric of a deep purple gown before moving on.
It felt like forever, but we finally found a dress for Winry, a cheerful, sky-blue gown that suited her perfectly.
“Okay, your turn!” she said, practically heaving me toward the dressing room.
I tried on what felt like a million dresses, each one more wrong than the last. The first was too fancy, the next too plain. One was way too short, and another made me feel like I'd been swallowed by a curtain.
Winry peeked into the dressing room, holding up yet another option. “This one’s cute! What do you think?”
I groaned. “Winry, I have no clue what I’m looking for. I want something nice, but not too nice because I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard, you know?” I sighed, sitting down on the little bench in the dressing room. “I just don’t want to make it weird. I’ve been trapped in the friend zone for so long that I don’t know what to do now that I’m not.”
Winry came in, closing the curtain behind her. She sat down next to me and gave me a reassuring smile. “Look, you don’t have to do anything other than continue to be the amazing person you are. Ed might not say much, but I’ve seen how he looks at you. I mean, think about it. If Edward likes you when you’re you, why would he want that to change?”
I tilted my head slightly to the side, mulling over Winry’s words. All this time, I’d been so adamant on finding a dress that looked good on me so Edward would like it, but I had neglected to look for an outfit that made me happy.
Winry stood up and started placing the dresses I had already tried on back on their hangers. “I mean, I’m sure we could find one that Edward would—”
“No, it’s okay. You’re right, Winry.”
“Of course I’m right,” she smirked. Now stop moping around and go pick out something to wear.”
An eternity later, I found the one. It made my breath catch when I saw it in the mirror, and most importantly, I felt pretty just wearing it.
Winry gasped when she saw me step out. “Oh, that’s it! You look so pretty.”
I turned slowly in front of the mirror, brushing my hands down the silky fabric. “You really think so?”
“I know so,” she said firmly, her voice full of certainty.
For the first time all day, I felt relaxed. The doubts and nervous energy that had been buzzing inside me quieted, replaced by a growing excitement. “Okay,” I said, smiling at her. “Let’s get out of here then.”
“Oh, no. Please don’t make me go out there,” I begged Winry, trying not to cover my face with my hands out of embarrassment and smudge my makeup.
“Why not?” she questioned, giving me a pointed look.
I glanced around the room, searching for an excuse as I wiped my sweaty hands on my skirt. Opening my mouth, I hoped something unintelligible wouldn’t come out, but before I even had the chance to utter anything, Winry rolled her eyes and pushed me out the door.
“H-Hey!” I yelped. She only made another movement to shoo me away, so with another sigh, I started descending the staircase.
My steps slowed as my gaze landed on Edward, who was fumbling with his tie and ignoring his brother’s pleas to help.
He was dressed in a simple black suit, but on him, it looked like something out of a fashion catalog. His usually tousled hair was somewhat tamed, and although his knot of a tie needed help, it was almost cute the way he kept trying and failing to do it correctly.
Edward glanced up, and the moment his eyes found me, he froze. His lips parted slightly, and the faintest tinge of red crept up his cheeks. Heat rushed to my face as my confidence wavered, but then his eyes turned tender, lingering like he was seeing me for the first time.
“Trying to recreate the Gordian knot?” I teased, glancing down at his tie again as I walked up to him. “Can I fix it?”
He blinked, startled out of his trance, and nodded stiffly.
Stepping closer, I undid the knot and retied it correctly, trying not to think about how close we were, or how he smelled faintly of soap and pine needles.
“There,” I said, stepping back and meeting his eyes with a shy smile.
Edward looked down, then back at me, his blush deepening. “Thanks. You, uh… You look nice, by the way.”
My chest tightened at his words, but I managed to keep my voice steady. “Thanks. You, too.”
“Winry, you look amazing!” Alphonse chimed in as Winry joined us in the entryway, the large bowtie on his armor somehow making him look charmingly earnest.
Winry grinned, spinning once to show off her dress. “Why, thank you, Al. You’re looking pretty sharp yourself.”
“Well, I guess we’d better get going, since we’re already late,” I say.
“We would’ve been there already if two girls I know hadn’t taken forever to get ready,” Edward grinned as he offered me his arm, and we stepped out into the cool evening air, the distant hum of festival music guiding us toward the night ahead.
The festival was already in full swing when we arrived. Lanterns hung from every building, casting a pleasant glow over the cobblestone streets. Stalls lined both sides of the road, selling everything from sizzling skewers of meat to handmade trinkets. The air was filled with music and laughter, and the smell of freshly baked bread mingled with the sweetness of candied apples.
Winry and Alphonse went off to stand in the long line for the Ferris wheel while Edward and I walked side by side, the hum of the festival filling the spaces between us. I couldn’t help sneaking glances at him, the soft glow of the lights making his smile even brighter.
We wandered through the crowds, stopping occasionally to try different foods or watch performers. Edward smiled brightly as he caught me laughing at a juggler’s antics.
“Come on,” I said, suddenly grabbing his hand. “I saw something earlier that’ll be fun.”
His grip was warm and steady as I led him through the maze of people to a clearing where a group of musicians played a lively tune. Couples spun and twirled across the makeshift dance floor, their laughter ringing out over the music.
“You’re kidding,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You want to dance?”
I shrugged, a grin on my face. “Oh, come on, Ed. Please?”
Edward hesitated, but I saw the moment he finally caved. “Fine. But I’ll warn you that I’m a horrible dancer.”
“That’s okay. So am I,” I say, taking his hand and pulling him onto the cobbled dance floor with the other couples.
Edward was stiff at first, his hand hovering uncertainly before finally settling against my shoulder blade. Even then, his touch was careful, almost tentative, as though he were afraid of doing something wrong. His posture remained rigid, shoulders drawn tight as we began to move with the rhythm of the music.
The cobblestones beneath our feet were uneven, and for the first few turns, we stumbled more than we danced. His steps were measured and overly precise, like he was calculating each shift of his weight before committing to it. I could feel the faint tension in his arm where it held mine, the slight pause before every turn.
The music was lively, the quick tempo urging us forward, but Edward moved as if the entire world had narrowed to the space between our feet. His brow furrowed in concentration, and I caught the briefest glimpse of the tip of his tongue pressing against his lip as he focused. It was endearing how serious he looked over something so simple, and I smiled fondly at his expression. Gradually, though, something shifted.
His grip steadied. The hesitation in his movements lessened. Instead of counting quietly out loud, he began to respond to the rhythm itself, allowing the music to guide him rather than fight against it, and our steps began to align more naturally.
When his hand adjusted at my back, sliding just slightly lower to rest more securely at my waist, a subtle tightness bloomed beneath my ribs. His fingers flexed faintly against the fabric of my dress, as if reassuring himself that I was really there. That this wasn’t a dream.
Candlelight flickered across his face as we turned, casting shifting shadows over his features. Up close like this, I could see a vulnerability in his demeanor that he rarely let slip. A glimpse of the boy beneath the soldier.
The crowd, the laughter, and the music all faded into a distant hum as our movements grew more in sync. My hand rested lightly against his shoulder, and beneath my palm I could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing. Each step became less about getting it right and more about staying close.
When the song shifted into something slower, the change felt almost seamless. The lively energy melted into a gentler rhythm, and without thinking, we adjusted. The space between us diminished by mere inches, but it felt like something far more significant.
Our movements slowed, becoming unhurried, deliberate. The earlier awkwardness had vanished entirely, replaced by a steady confidence that seemed to surprise us both.
I became acutely aware of everything at once, like the warmth of his palm through the thin fabric of my dress, the way we kept drifting closer, or the way I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. Every time our eyes met, something unspoken passed between us, something gentler than teasing and far deeper than pride.
We swayed together, the music carrying us in slow circles. The world continued around us, but it no longer felt urgent. For that moment, there was nowhere else to be.
By the time the next few songs ended, we stepped off the dance floor, both of us breathless and smiling, the sky above us darkening as the first stars began to appear.
Edward hadn’t let go of my hand yet.
At first, I thought it was just because the crowd was thick that he was guiding me through the festival so we wouldn’t lose each other. But even when the people around us thinned, and there was plenty of space to walk side by side, his fingers remained laced with mine.
I loved the way our hands seemed to fit together with the slight roughness of his palm, the calluses earned from years of training and alchemy pressing gently against my skin. Every small shift of his fingers sent a quiet spark up my arm.
He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking ahead, focused as always, but there was a faint pink tint high on his cheeks that hadn’t been there before. Was he even aware he was still holding my hand?
I didn’t dare pull away. Instead, I curled my fingers just slightly tighter around his, and when his thumb brushed unconsciously over my knuckles, my heart gave a startled flutter.
“Come on,” he said, a little too quickly. “The fireworks are about to start.”
He tugged me forward again, but this time the movement felt less like urgency and more with an excitement he didn’t quite know how to put into words.
We made our way through the quieter part of the festival, laughter and music fading behind us until it became a distant hum. He finally slowed near a ladder propped against one of the low-roofed buildings.
“Are we even allowed up there?” I asked, eyeing it skeptically.
“Probably not,” he shrugged, already climbing.
With a small laugh, I gathered my skirt and followed him up. My dress nearly caught on one of the rungs, and I felt his hand steady me at my waist before I fully reached the top.
The roof offered a perfect view of the town below, lanterns glowing like scattered stars along the streets.
“This is amazing,” I breathed, settling beside him.
He leaned back on his hands, looking up at the sky, a quiet smile tugging at his lips.
For a while, we didn’t speak. The air was cooler up here, brushing gently against my skin. The sounds of the festival drifted upward in echoes, the music, laughter, and the murmur of voices blending together.
Then, without warning, the first firework streaked into the sky. It burst overhead in a shower of gold and green, illuminating the rooftops in flickering light.
“Wow,” I whispered.
Another firework followed, then another, each explosion brighter than the last. Colors bloomed across the sky, crimson, sapphire, violet, their reflections dancing faintly in the windows below.
I felt his hand brush against mine again, and my breath caught. His fingers hesitated, then slipped carefully between mine, as though testing whether I would pull away.
I didn’t.
Our hands rested between us, fingers intertwined once more, and I felt the tension in his shoulders ease ever so slightly. When I turned to look at him, I found he wasn’t watching the fireworks at all, but me.
The colored light from the sky painted his face in shifting hues, softening the sharp lines of his expression. There was an affection in his eyes I had never seen so clearly before, open, almost uncertain. The moment stretched, fragile and suspended, and I slowed my breathing, trying to calm my racing heart.
He glanced at our joined hands, then back at my face, as though gathering courage from the simple fact that I was still there. Slowly, carefully, he shifted closer, enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him.
The steady thud of my heart echoed in my ears louder than the fireworks overhead. I could feel the faint tremor in his fingers where they held mine, the smallest sign that he wasn’t nearly as composed as he tried to appear.
Another explosion lit the sky, a bright pink.
He leaned in slightly, then paused, close enough that I could feel his breath, warm against the cool night air.
For one second, it felt like he might pull back. Like the moment might slip through our fingers, unspoken and unfinished.
And then, “can… can I kiss you?” Edward asked quietly.
When I nodded, his free hand rose slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from my face. His touch lingered just a heartbeat longer than necessary, and I felt frozen in the best way, every nerve alive and anchored on this moment. My breath caught as his face drew nearer, and I tilted my head slightly, meeting him halfway.
And then, finally, the distance between us disappeared. His lips met mine softly, hesitant at first, as if giving me time to change my mind. The world seemed to fall away entirely. The fireworks became distant flashes behind closed eyes, the festival nothing more than a fading echo below.
When I didn’t pull away, his hand tightened gently at mine, and the kiss deepened just slightly. Warmth bloomed in my chest, spreading outward until even the cool night air couldn’t touch it.
When we finally parted, the sky above us was alive with color, but I barely noticed. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes searching mine as though trying to understand what had just happened, and whether it was real.
We stayed there long after the fireworks ended, hands still intertwined, the night settling quietly around us. But no matter how beautiful they were, nothing compared to the way he looked at me that night.
The End