Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Military Branch ❯ chp.2// A Familiar, Fatal Face ( Chapter 2 )

A/N

Well, this is a lot easier. Having the manuscript right in front of me helps a lot! All I have to do is add a few things hear and there, and I have it great. =D it's still, somehow, taking long.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

I was Alone.

More than Alone, I was abandoned, having never been spared a second, backwards glance. Those damned military dogs- they stole my sister from me, they took my father, my mother trailing pitifully behind him. And to think that I had ever truly respected her, truly thought highly off her. Now, I would rather eat the sidewalk. But Now… I wish that the military would take me, too. Not to be with my family… That I couldn't think of. But at least to relieve most of the terrible pain. The days that I was stuck on that street corner where the worst days of my miserable existence. A Life, however small, that had almost winked right out of existence. Secretly… I wish that it had.

 

Groups of rich, snobby kids that, as the brats that they where, had collaborated in the hopes of enticing a reaction out of me. I sat on the small corner of the street, curled into a ball for the warmth… I was also trying to put a barricade between them and myself In the hopes that they would leave. But everyday, they would come back for more entertainment. Sometimes they would throw a rock or discarded pop can at me. I could barely feel it through the hazy numbness. If they threw something more, I would treat them with a long look from my dull, emotionless, soul-less eyes. Sometimes I would get a scream, but most of the time they just rushed to leave.

 

One day, after this routine, I noticed a man coming towards me. He had black hair, short, and kind golden eyes. He wore his hair spiked, along with square glasses. I noticed a digital camera stuffed into his fall jacket's pocket. He was grinning warmly at me. It almost made me shudder. He looked to be in his early thirties, if not late twenties. The thing that set me off was the military outfit that he wore. I cringed away from him, almost expecting him to pull out a gun, and let the shooting practice begin. How ever, his holster was empty. His shoulders where loose, no hint of tension in his posture. I looked at him suspiciously as he knelt in front of me.

 

To my great and utter surprise, he spoke.

 

“Hey there.”

 

I blinked once, twice, wondering when the illusion would disappear. Surely no military dog would concern themselves with a ruffian on the street. I went rigid, holding my mouth clamped closed. He took this as a sign that I wasn't going to say anything. His hazarded guess was correct.

 

“Is something wrong?”

He asked me softly, and I glared at him

 

“ What do you think?” I asked sarcastically, upon finding my voice. “ If I'm living on the streets of course there is something. If you must know, the military killed my sister and father. My mother committed suicide. Everything is god-damned wrong!”

 

I said loudly, not bothering to watch the people on the street turn to stare. If this was any means of interrogation, then I wasn't buying it. I didn't know anything, so I had to make that clear for this guy to leave. He couldn't honestly care. No one was that warm hearted anymore. I saw his eyes turn to my scrunched blonde hair, my dull green eyes, and my ripped and tore clothes.

 

“What's your name?”

 

This caught me by surprise more than anything else that had left his mouth. I glared dubiously at him for a moment, wondering if I should stand up and fine somewhere else to curl up into a ball, but something in his eyes held me in my place. Maybe it was that odd, glowing warmth. Maybe it was the regal posture. Or maybe he just really cared, sincerely. I snorted, letting my walls and barricades fall from around. I smiled slowly; It felt odd to me.

 

“ My name is-“

 

Just then, my stomach decided to loudly remind me exactly how hungry I was. I forced down a blush as the man grinned at me over those odd, square glasses.

 

“ My name is Maes Hughes. Do you want some lunch?”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Hughes sat across from me in the restaurant, watching me stuff my face full of pasta, soup, and anything else that he ordered for me. It felt weird, almost unnatural, to have all of this food in front off me, and to have my stomach so comfortably full. It almost felt… right. I finally sat back, ushering the waitress away with a wave of my handkerchief. Hughes chuckled. He seemed to be fixed on the memory of me stuffing as much food into my mouth as I could without choking. It must have been comical.

 

“Are you alright now?”

 

Hughes asked, grinning widely, and not caring about the huge amount of money that he placed on the table for the waitress. I thought that I heard him whisper something to her. It sounded suspiciously like `keep the change'. I didn't have to imagine the gleeful look that she gave him, as it seemed permanently plastered to her face as she skipped away. I gave her the most rueful look.

 

 

“Are you alright now?

 

I looked up at him, and nodded. I picked up the napkin, and dabbed delicately at my face, trying to hide the face that I was making at that waitress' short skirt. I was at a full fifteen years old- and yet so incredibly immature. Nothing like… Her. My sister, I prefer not to name.

 

“So, what is your name?”

 

I looked up, pondering whether or not to reveal that to him. He seemed harmless enough- But that didn't change his species, or breed. He was still a dog. And nothing would ever change all of the people that he has killed I grimaced momentarily, before regaining my posture, and to h is relief (And probably yours) I spoke my name

 

“ Iriko. My name is Iriko. Call me Riko, though.”

 

Hughes grinned broadly, almost reflexively. It was Eerie. Almost as If on cue, a boy walked in. He had blonde hair, braided down his back. He was short enough to be around twelve, but the maturity reflected in his eyes differed. Those eyes hid secrets that where beyond his years in every sense. And those eyes where the things that held me in my seat, Rigid and waiting. There was only us as our eyes connected.

 

He broke the gaze sheepishly, turning to look at the man who sat across from me.

 

“Hey, Hughes! Colonel Bastard wants un in his office, pronto!”

 

He called to Hughes, and I couldn't help but wince at the language. I mentally kicked myself for that. I was fifteen! Why would such a thing bother me? Maybe it just reminded me of the old rules in our house- the child-hood law that had set the ground for my growing up. But never the less, all I could do was turn my thought from the past, and try to concentrate on Hughes, and not the boy.

 

“Sorry Ed, I have a guest here.”

 

Ed, the blonde haired boy, scowled in disregard, and turned away with a brisk nod. Hughes sighed.

 

“But really, Ed, you should take a look at these adorable baby pictures before we go!”

Hughes cried, spontaneously pulling out a thick wad of photographs- all starring You Know Who. I felt myself sweat drop. Hell, you would have too, had you been right beside me. Ed tried to keep up the frown, but a smile tugged playfully at his lips. I grinned out right- it felt very good. Ed finally let it go, seeing the brilliant smile that came to my face, and let himself chuckle. But in another moment, he was straightened up, addressing Hughes with a certain air of distant authority.

 

“Well, you can bring her along, too. Colonel won't mind.”

 

I nodded, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious about my limp hair. Well, what did they expect?! I had been out on the streets for a while… I huffed to myself, suddenly feeling moody about the stares that I was receiving. I glared at Ed at he tried to sneak another look at me over his shoulder. What is his PROBLEM? I fumed silently to myself. I finally fore my eyes away from his golden gaze, and began silently surveying the scene before us. The boys didn't know it, but I was mapping the course of our walk. I was storing the tiny bits of information.

 

Our group finally made it into the building, up the marble steps, and into the front foyer. Ed grunted to a guard by the staircase, who, seeing the trademark snake-cross, let him in. Hughes smiled kindly, and I just looked around. There wasn't a lot to say to him, in this situation. I ground my teeth in frustration, A habit I had gotten myself into. Slowly, we eventually wound our way to this `Colonel's' Room. Hughes was gripping his photos tightly; poised to throw them into someone's face- I don't think it mattered who. The reason I knew that it was the right door, however, was not because the boys stopped in front of it. It was because of the large plack that was hung on the door-

 

It was Colonel Mustang's name that was engraved in it.

 

My heart almost stopped.

 

I opened my mouth like a fish, trying to compose my thoughts into actual sentences. It didn't make sense. I wouldn't make sense of it. Roy mustang was my father's best friend. They had been drinking buddies- And then Roy turned around and stabbed him in the back.

 

This was the Man that had killed my father.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

How are we liking it, so far? R&R, PLEASE!