Loveless Fan Fiction / Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Soulless ❯ Battle of Spells ( Chapter 4 )

Alphonse was released from the hospital an hour after Ritsu-sensei's departure. He agreed to phone Dr. Ikeda immediately if he suffered any headaches or dizzy spells, and promised to return for a follow-up appointment within the week, but he was finally free to leave the confines of his room.

The only awkward moment came as he was dressing, and the nurse delivered an armful of Kazuo's personal belongings, taken from him on the night of the accident: blue jeans, a t-shirt, a badly-abraded leather jacket, a wallet, and a package of jewelry that consisted of a wristwatch with a badly-cracked face, a small ruby stud earring that matched one that Yoko was wearing in her multiply-pierced ears...and Kazuo's wedding ring.

Al froze, staring down the circle of white gold in his palm. He could see the character for loyalty engraved on the inside of the ring. Put it on? Put it in my pocket? Give it to Yoko-san for safekeeping?

Yoko was standing on tiptoes, his earlobe between her fingertips as she tried to put the earring in without accidentally clocking him with her cast, when she noticed him stiffen.

"What is it?" Her glance followed his. "Oh."

Al swallowed, hard. "Yoko-san, what should I--?"

She took his right hand, her eyes downcast, and slowly slipped the ring over the knuckle of his third finger. "Maybe..." Her voice cracked. "Maybe it will help you...remember."

Her last words were nearly lost in a hiccupping sob. She wiped angrily at her face with her left hand, her own wedding band catching the light, and started to turn away.

Al couldn't help himself. He reached out and pulled her close. "Yoko-san, I'm sorry," he whispered, angry at his own helplessness.

She turned her face into the center of his chest, and clung to him, weeping. He put his arms around her, stroking her hair, patting her back.

"I'll try to remember," he heard himself promise as the patch of shirt over his heart grew wet with her tears. Maybe it was cruel to offer her hope, but he couldn't stand to see her devastated like this.

ooOoo

The car sent from Seven Moons was a modest, light-blue sedan, driven by a cheerful, dark-haired man in his early thirties who introduced himself as Yoshida-sensei, one of the academy instructors.

As he climbed into the back seat, Al studied the vehicle as discreetly as he could. It was similar, yet very different from the automobiles he had known at home. From the smell, the engine used a different kind of fuel to heat the water for steam. And where were the pipes hidden? The engine compartment looked too small to hold turbines of a sufficient size to power an automobile...

Internal-combustion engine. For a moment, it seemed that Al could almost remember, but then Kaz's memories faded away, leaving only that cryptic term.

Al's musings were quickly distracted as they left the hospital grounds. He found himself openly gaping as they entered the city, feeling like a bug in a maze of steep ravines. All the buildings were so impossibly tall, and, unlikely as it seemed, glass seemed to be the building material of choice here, with concrete and brick taking a distant second place.

Only occasionally did Al catch glimpses of buildings that looked like the ones he knew from home--made from stone or brick and only four-to-six stories high. They looked shabby and out-of-place in this cityscape, like gnarled shrubs scattered amongst a grove of tall, straight trees.

And the traffic! Were automobiles so inexpensive--or the citizens here so wealthy--that they could afford to choke the streets with thousands of vehicles?

The buildings grew smaller and the space between them larger as Yoshida-sensei continued to drive, and from time to time, Al even saw parks, oases of grass and trees.

Finally, they left the skyscrapers behind, and found themselves in a much more modest neighborhood of apartment buildings, bookstores, and cafes.

Yoshida-sensei parked the car, and Al followed Yoko into one of the buildings, gripped by a sense of deja-vu when he entered the lobby and smelled the scents of floor polish and faded incense. He followed her up the stairs, and found himself in the tiny one-bedroom apartment that Yoko and Kazuo had shared.

Yoko stood, looking at him expectantly, as Al came to a halt and studied these strange-familiar surroundings.

A simple kitchenette with a stove and icebox filled an alcove next to the front door. The living room was furnished with a sofa that had seen better days, a glass-fronted box that Kazuo's memories identified as a television, and table piled high with notebooks, papers, and a jumble of wires, instruments (soldering iron, volt meter, whispered Kazuo) and other objects (...circuit boards. Hard drive. Memory chips... The remaining wall space was taken up with a large, crowded bookshelf.

Al wandered over to take a closer look at the titles on the spines. Behind him, Yoko cleared her throat. "Why don't you pick what books you want to take along? I'll pack our clothing. Can you get the suitcase down from the top shelf when you have a moment?"

"In the closet, right?" Al said, without thinking, and found himself blushing at Yoko's radiant smile. False hope.

He was getting used to the dark-iron taste of guilt in the back of his throat.

"Yes." She moved into the bedroom. "Ritsu-sensei told me not to worry about the rest. If we give him the key, he'll send movers to pack up everything else and put it in storage." She paused. "Do you want to pack your pillow?"

Was that a trick question? Al considered for a long moment.

"Why not?" he said. It seemed like a safe enough answer, and Yoko seemed satisfied by it.

Relieved, he returned to his perusal of the bookshelves. This side must belong to Yoko--stacks of motorcycle magazines and what looked like engine maintenance manuals shared space with thick medical textbooks. Kazuo seemed to have favored engineering, physics, and chemistry texts, with several dozen outer-space adventure novels and action-adventure comic books as leisure reading.

Al selected the volume titled Principles of Physical Chemistry and opened it eagerly. His excitement quickly turned to confusion as he flipped through pages of unfamiliar terms and equations. You're supposed to use chemicals instead of transmutation as a catalyst?

He snapped the book shut, and put it aside for packing. Kazuo's other textbooks only added to Al's confusion. The foundations of science in this world did not seem to include alchemy, and this presented another layer to the mystery surrounding Kazuo's memories of being a Sentouki. If he hadn't used alchemy in his duels, than what had he used? Did magic really work here?

Alphonse started to look forward to his arrival at the Seven Moons Academy, and to delving into the volume Ritsu-sensei had loaned him. He wondered what price the teacher would extract for the information...despite Ritsu's façade of friendly concern, Al sensed that the other wanted something from him.

He only hoped it would be equivalent exchange, and not the sale of Al's soul.

ooOoo

Two hours later, as he was taping up a box of medical textbooks for Yoko, he heard a chiming song. She pulled an object that looked like a makeup compact out of her pocket, and held it to her ear.

"Hello? Oh, Yoshida-sensei, we're almost done here...we'll be down in a second...No, just a suitcase and a couple of boxes. Those will fit in the trunk, right? Okay...thanks. See you in a couple of minutes." As Yoko spoke, Al realized she must be holding a telephone handset, only smaller than he'd ever seen before, and wireless. Amazing!

"Car's here," she said, and went back into the bedroom. She quickly re-emerged, dragging the large red suitcase behind her.

Lifting one of the heavy boxes of books, Al followed Yoko downstairs, and around the corner to a carport, where the pale-blue sedan waited, its engine idling.

He came to a halt when Kazuo's memories recognized Yoko's motorcycle in one of the carport spaces. It was laying on a large tarp like a disemboweled corpse, its metallic innards heaped to one side.

"I can't decide what to do with it." Yoko came to stand at his shoulder. "Probably sell it for parts."

"But you love that bike," Al heard himself say.

She sighed, and leaned against him. He put his arm around her without thinking. "I was thinking--if I fixed it up again, I could get a better price for it. For the down payment on a car."

Al became aware that he was holding her in a familiar embrace, moved away hastily, trying not to see the hurt expression on Yoko's face. "It's your decision," he said.

ooOoo

Behind its high walls and imposing wrought-iron gate, the Seven Moons Academy looked like a university campus, with stately stone buildings set amongst beautifully-landscaped lawns and flowerbeds.

The upperclassmen's suite in the dormitory turned out to be larger than the apartment that Al and Yoko had just left, with two bedrooms and better furniture. They had just finished lugging the last of the boxes from Yoshida-sensei's automobile when a set of chimes rang in the hallway outside.

As if in conditioned response, Al's stomach growled. Loudly.

"Guess you remember what the bells mean." Yoko grinned at him. "Dinnertime!"

ooOoo

The dormitory dining hall, a vast chamber paneled in dark wood, was already crowded when they arrived. The din of voices, clattering silverware, and chairs squeaking against the polished floorboards quickly died away as they entered, and the diners stopped what they were doing to stare at them.

"...motorcycle accident...amnesia...here to restudy...poor Yoko-senpai..." Al saw by the rising color in Yoko's cheeks that she heard the mutters, too. He bit his lower lip, wanting to protect her, but not knowing how.

Rescue came in the form of the two boys who had visited Al in the hospital a few days ago.

"Kaz-senpai! Yoko-senpai!" A pair of voices broke the uncomfortable silence that had fallen over the dining hall. Al saw them waving from the other side of the hall. "Come sit here! We saved you places!"

Belatedly, Kazuo's memories supplied names to go with the faces. The earless boy was Hiro. He was Yuki's Sacrifice, and together, they shared the name Respected.

What Kaz's memories failed to answer was why Yuki still had his ears, but Al figured it would be rude to ask.

Instead, he applied himself to wolfing down the food placed in front of him while Yoko chatted with the boys, telling them about Ritsu's re-training proposal. The food here was far better than what the hospital had served. His plate was filled with chicken and mixed vegetables served over steamed rice with a sweet-salty sauce redolent with garlic and ginger.

Good food was a good omen for his stay here, Al told himself, knowing it was silly to be superstitious.

ooOoo

After dinner, Yoko went back to their suite to unpack, while Al enlisted Yuki and Hiro's aid in finding the academy library and learning how to use the Internet. He had felt a little uncomfortable about the prospect of asking Yoko to help him, because doing so was bound to stir up painful emotions, and so the two boys proved to be a godsend.

Best of all, Kazuo's memories took over once they got started, and Al was quickly able to operate the library computer on his own, leaving the Respected team to their own homework.

After running a series of keyword searches, and reading through dozens of pages of search results, Al was dismayed to discover that in this world, alchemy was considered the flim-flammery of a more ignorant age, now studied only by crackpots and mystics.

Subsequent searches turned up no news of his brother, either--no mentions of anyone claiming to be Edward Elric, no buildings mysteriously destroyed, no spectacular displays of alchemy, in fact, no incidents of any kind that might lead Al to believe that Ed was here, in this world.

Perhaps Brother was also keeping a low profile for now, Al told himself, though it seemed an unlikely strategy for his brother. But still, he had to remain hopeful. And keep searching.

ooOoo

The first week at Seven Moons Academy passed quickly as Al immersed himself in learning--or re-learning--the duties and skills of a Sentouki. It seemed the best way to understand his role in this strange world.

"...if, for some reason, your Sacrifice is not present or is unable to direct the battle of spells, then you as Sentouki must invoke the battle system with Auto on. This permits the Sentouki to fight alone, though we do not recommend you take this approach, as it leaves you open and vulnerable to injury and Restriction..."

As he sat in a classroom near the end of the week, listening to Ritsu-sensei's lecture in the freshman course, "Introduction to Sentouki Battle Systems," Al found himself remembering the time when he and Brother had studied for the State Alchemist examination.

Certainly, some of the spells he was learning seemed very similar to the symbolic equations used in alchemy. And like those weeks spent preparing for the examinations, Al's days at the Seven Moons were divided between the reading assignments given to him by Ritsu-sensei, and practicing his skills in the academy's large practice hall.

Unlike studying alchemy, though, he didn't practice alone. Yoko was always there in her role as his Sacrifice, and they frequently partnered with the upperclassmen Sentouki/Sacrifice teams for mock duels.

But as he continued to learn (and remember) spells and worked at honing his combat skills--not the hand-to-hand combat that he had always excelled at, but a rapid-fire exchange of spells that relied as much on wits as strength--Al had found himself becoming increasingly uncomfortable with Ritsu-sensei's avid interest in his alchemy.

It was not unusual for Ritsu to ask Al to stay behind after lecture ended or practice finished, and to ask Al to demonstrate the sorts of transmutation that had been Brother's forte: improvising weapons from the materials at hand, creating obstacles by transmutation, and building traps for the enemy.

Today was no exception. As the class bell rang, and the classroom was filled with the sounds of chatter and the freshmen slamming shut their books, Al heard Ritsu-sensei's soft voice, and his stomach clenched in dread.

"Kazuo-kun, if you would be so kind as to remain..."

That was it. He had to put a stop to this. Al slung his book bag over one shoulder, and marched up to the front of the rapidly-emptying classroom. "Ritsu-sensei, I think I know what you want to ask me," he began. "But alchemy isn't meant to be used that way, except in an emergency."

"Oh?" Ritsu-sensei's voice sounded disinterested as he gathered up his lecture notes with long-fingered hands.

Al firmly suppressed the memory of how often Ed had managed to find himself in emergency situations, and continued. "Alchemists help people by using transmutation to repair and improve things. It's a force of creation, not destruction."

Izumi-sensei had taught that in the three stages of alchemy, decomposition was always followed by understanding and creation, echoing the cycles of the universe. Otherwise you ended up with an unbalanced power like Scar's, fit only for revenge and death.

"Hm." Ritsu still seemed occupied with putting his papers in order. Was he even listening?

"Using alchemy to fight isn't repairing anything, or making it better," Al finished.

"I see." Ritsu-sensei tapped together the sheaf of papers he was holding to straighten them, and peered at Al over the rim of his glasses. "Very interesting. Now, could I ask you to demonstrate once more exactly how you employ the wooden floorboards and nails of the practice hall to create a spear?"

Al decided that perhaps a different approach might be needed. Kaz might have to suffer blinding headache, followed by a convenient loss of memory about how to perform a transmutation.

Oh, Brother, where are you?

ooOoo

That night, he dreamed of loss and destruction.

...he's ten years old again, awakening after their attempt to bring back Mother from the dead. He moves to the sound of clanking, feeling oddly huge and numbed, and sees Brother sprawled on the floor, surrounded by a huge pool of blood, his arm and leg gone. He scoops Brother up in huge metal arms, hoping he won't crush his brother because Al can't feel anything anymore, and the blood runs everywhere, painting the gray armor reddish-brown...Brother, on his back, staring sightlessly up at the theater ceiling...more blood, red as the Philospher's Stone, a vast pool of blood, and Alphonse is drowning in it, and it's all his fault... Brother! You can't be dead! You're still warm...Brother!

Alphonse awakened himself with a shout, and sat up, panting, his heart pounding and his pajamas clammy with sweat. It was only a dream. Just a dream.

But his mind didn't want to let go of the fear.

What if his gut feeling about Ed's proximity was mistaken, and Brother had remained behind? And what if Al's transmutation hadn't worked, and Brother was still dead?

Dead and rotting by now, in the vast grave of that underground city.

Al shuddered, and had a vivid flash of the day Kazuo received the news of the plane crash...watching the television, seeing a smear of smoke and flame and scorched metal on a runway, the news reporter solemnly reciting the flight number and number of passengers...running to the toilet to vomit up lunch, tears running down his face and sobs battling with violent nausea as he kneels on the bathroom floor and clutches cold porcelain...Yoko's arms around him, her hands stroking his hair as she tries to comfort him...Mom! Dad!

Not my life! Not my memories! Al threw himself out of bed and scrabbled for a notepad and pen from the pile of books and papers on his bedroom floor. He drew the array for binding a soul to armor with desperate speed.

I can't forget who I really am, can't forget Brother, can't let myself drown in Kazuo's thoughts, Kazuo's destiny.

He finished sketching the array and turned off the light before crawling back into bed, wearied in both body and soul. Just as he was falling asleep, he heard his bedroom door open.

"Kaz, are you all right? I heard you..."

"Just a bad dream," he mumbled, feeling better already simply by virtue of Yoko's presence in the room.

"Okay," she said, softly, and his bedroom door clicked shut.

He thought she was gone, and jumped a little when he felt her lift his blanket and slip into his narrow bed. She pressed against him, warm and soft and smelling of plum blossom.

"I know that you don't..." She stopped, and he heard her swallow. "But can I stay here, just for tonight? Please?" Her fingers skimmed blindly down the length of his arms, and curled around his hand. "I miss you, Kaz. I miss you so much."

Not trusting himself to reply, Al opened his hand, and entwined his fingers with hers, so that they lay chastely side-by-side, palm-to-palm.

I don't belong here. I just want to go home.

ooOoo

A few days later, Yoko and Alphonse were summoned to Ritsu-sensei's office after dinner.

Al followed Yoko into the book-lined room, wondering what Ritsu-sensei wanted. The teacher had been extremely displeased when Al had stopped performing transmutations on command, and had gone so far as to send Al back to the hospital for a day for further tests.

Since then, Al had applied himself conscientiously to his Sentouki studies--he was remembering more and more of Kaz's skills as the days passed, so at least Ritsu had nothing to complain of in that area.

Ritsu-sensei was sitting behind his neatly-organized desk, his long fingers steepled beneath his pointed chin. "Soulless," he greeted them. "Given the progress you've made over the past fortnight, I believe you are ready for a real mission."

Al felt Yoko grip his hand. She hadn't returned to his bed again after his nightmare the previous week, but somehow, it felt as if they had become closer. "Yes, sensei," she said.

"We need you to retrieve a rogue Sentouki/Sacrifice team. We believe that they would be a valuable addition to the Seven Moons, and it has been decided that they should join us. Convince them."

"Yes, sensei." This time, Al joined his voice to Yoko's.

Ritsu smiled. "Very good. Now, here is the information..."

ooOoo

The park was very quiet and filled with deep shadows at this time of night. As they walked cautiously down the path, Yoko's hand in Al's grip, Al felt something pushing against his senses.

"There's another Sentouki here," he whispered. "A strong one."

It was true. None of the students that Al had practiced against had possessed an aura this powerful.

Yoko's fingers tightened around his. "Can you see them?"

"Not yet. But the feeling's getting stronger."

They rounded a bend in the path, and came face-to-face with two figures standing under one of the park lanterns. Waiting for them.

One was tall, with dark hair and an eyepatch that obscured half of his pale face. The other was short, with long golden hair, cat-ears, and a tail. He was scowling.

Al knew them. Recognized that scowl. He knew them both!

Brother. His heart stopped with a painful twinge, then started up again, beating erratically. Brother and the Colonel. It had to be!

"Yoko-san, wait, that's my--"

"I declare a Battle of Spells," Colonel Roy Mustang's deep voice interrupted him. "Sentou system, on."

"Wait--" Al tried to say. Before he could finish, Mustang snapped his white-gloved fingers, and a great arc of flame rushed towards them.

As Al dived out of the way, yanking Yoko with him, he heard Mustang and Brother finalizing their battle coordination: "We are Faithless, so strong that even the pious fall."

Shit. What was he going to do now?

Yoko made the decision for them. "We accept the Battle of Spells. We are Soulless, deaf to pleas, unaffected by sentiment."

"Sentou system, on," Al said, with resignation. "System expand."

This was not how he had imagined his reunion with his brother. Cursed. Just like always.