Otaku Magazine ISSUE #5 July 2014

❤One Shot ❤

❤One Shot ❤

        (Hey! Poniesaremybffs here! I'll be covering the One-Shot for this issue, so I hope I do it well enough.)

        I have never liked summer. The sun is too hot, the wind too windy, and, worst of all, people are constantly bugging you on how often you leave your house. Why is this? Because of the horrid weather. They enjoy it, think it's nice. I, however, have never agreed.

        My name is Quincy Reed, and I like rain. I thrive in it. The drumming of droplets upon the moistening earth is a beautiful beat, and the sting of cold water dripping onto warm skin is a satisfaction that sunlight can in no way copy.

        At this very moment, I am seated upon a bench in Central, where I just happen to live. We are currently receiving quite a heavy influx of rain at this time, something that drew me out of my shabby apartment. I am the only person on the street without an umbrella or jacket, which, believe it or not, is causing quite a few people to stare at me in disbelief. I've been offered an umbrella four times, and have denied an umbrella four times. My auburn hair is sticking to my scalp. I cut it short for that exact reason, for, you see, to have a man's short and spiked cut is much more convenient and comfortable for someone who enjoys a constant dribble of water upon their skin than long locks, which clump together uncomfortably when wet.

        From the corner of my eye, I see a dark figure approaching. He stops next to me and glances over my small figure. Perhaps he sees only my hair, and thinks me a man. I do prefer a suit to girly garments, after all. After a short time he continues to stand, thus my curiosity gives in, and I look him over.

        He is short. Very much so, but, from the looks of it, is my age, perhaps somewhat younger. He has sharp, amber eyes, and long, braided hair, the color of honey. He is clothed in a black tank-top, and black leather pants, a scarlet cloak protecting him from the rain. My eyes follow the material down his arm, then pause at his hand. Automail.

        “What do you want?” I ask, beginning to feel uncomfortable. “Are you just going to stand there?”

        Without a word, he claps his hands together. I feel my heart begin to hammer in my chest as curls of electricity shot from his skin.

        Alchemy.

        Loping around the back of my simple bench, he slaps his palms against the wet pavement. The bricks bubble and churn, then rise from the earth and form a small platform above my head, blocking my flow of raindrops. “There,” he chirps, wiping his hands off on his cloak. “No young lady should have to sit out in the rain like that.”

        I find myself conflicted. After all, I came out to enjoy this storm, but this boy has stopped me from doing that with his stone umbrella. But he is not aware of that. He did it out of the goodness of his heart. I decide against letting him know that I like the rain, and instead, I reach out a pale, thin hand. Smiling broadly, he takes it in his steel one, and we shake.

        Still beaming, he takes a seat next to me, his eyes following a child as she splashes in a mud puddle that is only centimeters from her parents' vision. “My name is Edward Elric,” he murmurs, twirling a strand of blonde hair around his index finger. “What's yours?”

        My heart pounds, and not because of his alchemy. This is Edward Elric. The Edward Elric.

        Swallowing, I reach into my tote bag, pulling out two bottles of juice I had with me, handing him one. “I'm Quincy,” I sigh, watching as his head tilts back to take a drink. “Quincy Reed.”