Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction / Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Alchemy and Saiyans ❯ Secrets Kept and Secrets Learned ( Chapter 4 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Summary: A mysterious stranger takes Edward Elric and deposits him in the DBZ world.

Disclaimer: Do you actually think I could own either DBZ or FMA? Didn't think so. *sobs*

A/N: I got a review, so I update! If I don't know you, I WILL update for you! (Actually, I will probably update as soon as I get your review, 'cause I've kinda got the whole thing typed up on my computer here... *sweatdrops*)

“Speaking” Thoughts (Me to you) “Telephone or other such communication device”

Last time:

“So the brat can fight? This, I have to see.”

Chapter 4: Secrets Kept and Secrets Learned

Ed's eyes narrowed. “Are you implying something?”

Vegeta Smirkedâ„¢ at him, then stalked off to the GR.

When they got there, Bulma turned to Ed and said, “Have you ever trained in multiple gees?”

Ed shook his head. Yamcha sighed in relief.

“Then we don't need to turn the generator on,” she continued happily.

Yamcha and Ed entered the GR and assumed fighting stances. Yamcha looked curiously at Ed. “Can you fly or use ki?” he asked the blond.

Insert blank stare from the alchemist. “Wha...?”

“I'll take that as a no.”

000000000000000000000000000000

“I'll start, then.” With that, Ed charged forward, aiming for a left punch, which Yamcha blocked. He then tried a right kick (he didn't know how strong Yamcha was, so he was avoiding using his auto-mail), which was also easily blocked.

Then Yamcha took the offense, and started a flurry of punches and kicks which were barely blocked or dodged.

000000000000000 VEGETA'S POV 000000000000000

Vegeta, watching outside, had noticed something very odd about the new brat. He was trying not to use his right arm and left leg.

The Saiyan Prince scowled. The brat had secrets, and he was going to find out what they were.

000000000000000 YAMCHA'S POV 000000000000000

Yamcha was getting into this. Ed had been able to block most of his attacks, but the blond was starting to tire.

“Fist of the Wolf Fang Gale!” Yamcha yelled, and charged toward Ed with his trademark attack.

Ed managed to block many of the punches being thrown at him, but one got past his defenses—heading straight for his right shoulder.

000000000000000 NORMAL POV 000000000000000

There was a sickening thud of flesh on metal and a very loud, wet CRACK. Yamcha screamed in pain as blood spurted from his hand. Ed was merely thrown to the ground.

The alchemist looked up. “Oops. Maybe I should have warned him about that...”

Bulma sweatdropped.

“What the hell just happened?” growled Vegeta. He was confused, and that was one thing he absolutely hated to be.

“Well, he punched my right shoulder, hard enough that he didn't just bounce off and soft enough that it didn't break. I know this will probably sound callous, but I'm just grateful it wasn't me.”

“You're right. It does,” said Bulma.

Yamcha got over his pain enough to be utterly confused. “What... Why... What are you made of?” he gasped.

“Well, I'm mostly normal, but part steel.”

“Explain once we've fixed Yamcha's hand. Come on, we've got some Senzu around here somewhere,” Bulma quipped.

Ed got up and followed the other out of the GR. “Senzu? What are Senzu?”

“They're beans that can heal wounds and restore energy.”

Ed looked up sharply. “Can it heal anything?”

“Pretty much. Anything in the way of injuries, anyway. It can't heal diseases.”

Ed was getting excited. “Then maybe it could fix my arm!”

Yamcha looked back to where Ed was fallowing him, Bulma, and Vegeta. “Fix? Doesn't seem like it needs fixing, unless I somehow managed to break it as well as my hand.”

Ed just glared at him.

Soon, they had reached another room. There were person-sized tanks along the walls. Bulma led Yamcha to one of the tables in the center of the room and started looking around. She pulled out a bag, took a bean out of it, and handed it to Yamcha, who ate it. Immediately, his hand was fixed.

Ed stared. “Wow...”

Yamcha having been fixed, Bulma turned to Ed. “Now, I'd like to see your shoulder. Since you haven't had any formal training, you shouldn't have been able to break Yamcha's hand.”

“I didn't. He broke it himself.”

Bulma sighed. “Ed, please take your shirt off.”

“Why should I?”

Bulma glared at him and pulled out her Frying Pan of Terror. Ed flinched and held up his hands in surrender.

“All right, all right, I'll take it off!”

Yamcha looked at Ed curiously. “You know what she can do with it even though she's never used it around you?”

“Winry likes to use my head as target practice for her wrenches.”

Yamcha stared. “Oh...”

“Yeah.”

Bulma's glare intensified, and Ed, not wanting to be hit by her Frying Pan, hurriedly shrugged his overcoat off.

Bulma gasped as his right arm came into view.

“Wh... what?”

“I lost my arm a few years ago, so I got a replacement,” Ed said, as if having a completely metal arm was the most common thing in the world.

Bulma, Yamcha, and even Vegeta were now staring in amazement at Ed's arm. (He had managed to keep his shirt on without Bulma Frying Panning him.) The former two were also gaping openly, but Vegeta, being the almighty Saiyan Prince he is, was above that.

“I... I've never seen this sort of technology before...” Bulma murmured, the scientist in her taking over as she reached for the poor alchemist's arm.

“Umm... What are you doing?” Ed asked uncomfortably, pulling his over-abused arm out of her grasp.

“I'd like to examine it, to see how it works. If it gets broken, you'll need me to repair or replace it, so I have to understand it.”

“Unless you can but it back together yourself,” Yamcha added, having recovered from his utter shock.

Ed shook his head. “I can't perform alchemy with only one hand.”

“Oh.”

“Can you remove it? Is it possible to do so without breaking it?” Bulma asked, having reacquired her hold on Ed's poor arm.

“Well, yeah, but I'd prefer not to.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, it's connected to my nervous system...”

“Oh.”

“...and it hurts like hell to put it back on.”

“I see.” You could practically see the gears whirring away in Bulma's head. “Is there any way I can get a hold of a set of blueprints?”

“If I could talk to Winry, yeah.”

Bulma's face set into her determined-to-invent expression. “Well, I'll go fetch Mirai and get started on that right away.”

“Mirai's here?” Yamcha asked.

“Yup. He arrived about an hour ago.” (Really? Only an hour? It seems so much longer...)

“Oh really? It's been so long since I saw him... Can I come to meet him?”

“Sure, Yamcha! You know what they say, the more the merrier!”

000000000000000000000000000000

“You're absolutely sure that's what happened, Al?”

“Yes! We were walking to the train station when he collapsed!” The suit of armor appeared thoughtful (or as thoughtful as a suit of armor could be). “But I did hear a voice, though. I couldn't make out what it said, but I think nii-san heard it, too.”

Colonel Roy Mustang looked up. “What makes you say that?”

“He reacted to it.”

“Ah.”

“Hey, um... Is this thing on?”

“Yes, Ed, it's on. They should be able to hear us,” a woman's voice replied.

“Cool. Mustang? You there?” came Ed's voice.

“Fullmetal?”

“Nii-san! Where are you? What happened?”

“Al! Calm down! Yeah, it's me. Anyway, I seem to be in a different universe entirely...” Ed replied.

*Crash*

“Uh... Nii-san, what was that?”

“Umm... I'm not quite sure... Wait a minute, where'd Yamcha go?”

There was a pause.

“Holy shit!” Ed again.

Both Al and Mustang sweatdropped.

“Don't worry about it. Dad just blew up the GR again.”

“Uhh... How often does this happen?” asked Ed's voice.

“At least every week.. Sometimes more,” the boy replied.

“Vegeta need to take an anger management class,” the woman declared.

“Mom, didn't you put him in one before?” asked the boy.

“Yeah,” she replied.

“What happened? ...Or do I not want to know?” Ed's voice asked uncertainly.

Al and Mustang sweatdropped again.

“Let's see. I don't think he killed toomany people...” the woman said thoughtfully.

They looked at each other uncertainly. What the...

“Mom, aren't you going to go Frying Pan him again?” asked the boy.

“Oh right!” she replied.

There was another pause.

“I pity him,” said Ed's voice.

“Who, Dad?” asked the boy.

“Yeah,” Ed's voice replied.

“Don't—When he gets it, he'll deserve it.”

“Oh, wait... Is this thing still on?”

The sweatdrops gained friends.

“Yes...”

“Oops. Sorry.”

*Clang*

“Uhh...” Al was getting scared for his brother's health.

“And that would be Dad's head meeting the Frying Pan of Terror again...”

“Yeesh. We can hear it from here?” asked Ed's voice.

“She hits hard. Not to mention that Frying Pan is Saiyanproof.”

“Uhh... Saiyanproof?”

“Yeah. Saiyanshave supernaturally hard heads, so you have to hit hard if you want to hurt us at all,” the boy said.

“'Saiyan'? Nii-san, who is that?”

“Aah! Sorry, I forgot about introductions! The one with me is Mirai Trunks Briefs.”

“Call me Mirai. It lets people know which Trunks you're talking to.”

“And on the other end is my little brother Alphonse—“

“Hello.”

“Hey.” Mirai.

“—and Colonel Roy Mustang.”

“Hello.”

“Hi.” Mirai again.

“Who was that woman, nii-san?”

“Oh. Th—” the other boy cut him off.

“That would be my mom, Bulma Briefs. Oh yeah, before I forget the reason why we called, do either of you two know where we can find a set of blueprints for Ed's arm?”