Leave A Scar (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Lips of a Ghost

I stared at the back of Ed's coat through pouring rain.

Another braid had been added, making the total six.

Six years, hundreds of miles on the same track.

It felt endless, that beaten road.

Everything felt endless.

____________

I turned the page, and my existence stopped.

That marking, those lines... this was one of my first drawings.

I hated it instantly, that burn working up from my stomach, crowding my throat, and rendering me silent.

"Hey, are you..."

Al stopped there, hand half curled and arm halfway to my shoulder. An attempt at comfort.

I noticed Ed, taller-than-me-and-growing-every-day Ed, look up, the page of his library book sounding as his shoulder clicked.

He spoke my name in question, and I spoke his name in silence.

That word never dare cross my lips. I was rendered mute, just seeing that drawing again.

He had helped me with it, correcting things here and there, reaching into that brain and retrieving just the right amount of knowledge.

He wasn't an expert, he wasn't like Ed or Al.

But maybe he'd learned, in all his travels outside of a small house in Lauxotan.

Maybe.

My name was called again, so soft and so delicate he may as well be kissing me with those speaking lips.

I looked up, and prayed my eyes weren't rimmed with red.

He gave the smallest of smile, and rested a hidden metal hand on my forearm. My sleeve hiding scars.

We were alike, in a way, he and I

I didn't dare compare myself to Al, at least not yet, anyway.

I stayed silent, and eventually they left.

But of course, that was my imagination fooling me yet again.

Silly me. Such wishful thinking.

Ed's grip gently increased, partially wrapping his hand around my arm. And Al finally finished reaching out, overtaking my right hand with his.

My right hand. The same hand Ed didn't have.

I shouldn't be complaining.

And yet, here I was.

And yet, the library went on. People lightly chatting, reading books that brought them away from their world and into another. Maybe some books I had illustrated...

Maybe there was hope for me in another world.

Ed said my name again, spoken with a drop of urgency. And finally, I looked up, looking away from those perfect lines.

"Yeah?" The word felt dead to me, spoken from the lips of a ghost.

I had looked to him as I spoke. And I only saw his tanned face, those golden brows dropping in concern, in worry.

I hated that look.

I wish I could kiss that expression into a grave.

But timing was a funny thing, if not a cruel one.

So I did what I could; I stayed still, and yet again they lifted my dead weight. All 130lbs of me.

I looked away, looking down from it all, looking at the rookie transmutation circle drawn on one page. And I did what I could to smile through the pain.

I withdrew myself from them, standing and brushing out my skirt. Telling them I just needed a break, that's all.

Ed finished looking up from the book I had left, brows furrowed. Surely fitting together the pieces I had left him.

I stepped out of the library, hitting cool night air and trying to swallow it all.

I closed my eyes, hung my head, and tried to piece all the walls back together. Everything that had broken.

"Hey..." and then my name was spoken, snapping against some inner-wall. Some inner-face of it all. Ones I had formed when I called rooms my own, rooms I had never shared with Ed before.

Alphonse didn't move, continuing to place his hand on my shoulder. Such a gentle touch...

"I'm fine," and I returned his name as the first drop of rain hit my head.

"It's raining..." Alphonse lowered his hand, as he should've, and continued to stare at the sky. At least, that's what he was doing, when I turned around with a smile.

"I'm alright, Alphonse," I told him. "I... just got a little hot in there."

"It's good the weather changed then!"

I smiled, nodded, and with his hand in mine, we went back inside.

Ed looked up, the tension between his brows fleeing as he saw us from across the library. And then, seeing Al still holding my hand, he smiled.

I could only think of friendship, and how Ed and I had broken through that invisible line.

My hold on Al's hand increased, even if he couldn't feel it.