Edward Elric the new Howard teacher

Chapter 2

Edward POV:

The early morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the small training room we'd set up. The air was filled with the sound of steady breathing and the soft creak of wood underfoot. Alphonse was at it again, pushing himself to his limits as he tried to regain the strength his body had lost over those years. He was sitting on a bench, sweat dripping from his brow, his hands gripping the sides tightly as he focused on lifting his legs.

Seeing him in his original body again—a real, flesh-and-blood body—still felt like a miracle. Every time I saw him, my heart swelled with a mix of pride and relief. But the reality was that his body was fragile, so much more than it should have been. Years of being trapped in that armor had left his muscles weak, his body frail. He was gaining weight steadily, but the process was slow, and each pound he added was a testament to his determination.

"Come on, Al, you've got this," I encouraged, standing beside him with a towel in hand. He nodded, not taking his eyes off the weights in front of him. His legs trembled slightly as he tried to lift them higher, the strain evident on his face. His arms, once capable of wielding a sword with ease, now struggled to hold onto even the lightest of weights. But he was getting stronger every day, and that was what mattered.

"Just a few more reps, then we'll take a break," I said, trying to keep my tone upbeat. I could see the exhaustion in his eyes, but there was also that familiar fire—the one that had always driven him, no matter the odds. He was pushing through the pain, through the weakness, determined to regain his strength and live his life to the fullest.

Alphonse let out a slow breath and lifted his legs again, his movements careful and deliberate. The muscles in his thighs quivered, and his face was a mask of concentration. I watched as he held the position for a few seconds before slowly lowering his legs back down, his chest heaving with exertion.

"That's it, Al. You're doing great," I said, handing him the towel when he finally set the weights down. He wiped the sweat from his face, his breathing still heavy, but he managed a small smile.

"It's... harder than I thought it would be," he admitted, leaning back against the bench. "But it feels good... to finally be able to do this again."

I nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. "You're getting stronger every day. It's just going to take time."

"Yeah... I know," he said, his smile growing a bit wider. "Thanks for being here, Ed. I don't know if I could do this without you."

"Don't mention it," I replied, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice. "We're in this together, just like always."

We sat there in silence for a moment, the only sound being Al's breathing as it slowly returned to normal. His skin was flushed from the effort, and I could see the lines of new muscle beginning to form under the layer of fat he was gradually gaining. His body was still painfully thin, but the progress was there. We were making it together, one small step at a time.

After a short break, Alphonse pushed himself off the bench, his legs shaking slightly as they adjusted to the weight of his body. He moved slowly at first, testing his balance, and I stayed close by, ready to catch him if he faltered. He was walking more steadily now, but there were still moments when his body seemed to forget how to move, and he had to focus hard just to take a single step.

"Alright, let's try some stretches," I suggested, guiding him to a mat on the floor. He nodded, lowering himself down carefully, and I joined him, demonstrating the movements.

As we stretched, I could see the determination in Al's eyes, even through the fatigue. His movements were slow, but each one was deliberate, as if he was relearning how to inhabit his own body. The process was painstaking, but he never once complained. It was just who he was—always the patient one, always willing to put in the work, no matter how hard it got.