Riza Hawkeye knew something was wrong.
Maybe it was the gut feeling that consumed her whenever something went astray, or the sincerely strong connection she had to the Flame Alchemist. Or maybe it was the way King Fuhrer Bradley shot up from his seat at his desk abruptly, as if he had sensed some kind of disturbance in the atmosphere, and urged Riza to stay in her spot rather than trail behind him like he had been ordering her to do for the past few days.
The blonde knew that whatever unnerving feeling she was experiencing was Roy's doing. She didn't know how she knew, nor did she understand what he had done, but she just knew. That's the only way she could describe it. She had no proof and no logical explanation for her reasoning. She wasn't as intuitive or perceptive as (Y/n), but somehow whenever it came to Roy Mustang there was no question in what she felt.
The Lieutenant stood stiffly in Bradley's chilled office, hands folded behind her back and sweat beading down her forehead. Her face was blank, eyes half lidded making her appear to be unconcerned with her intuition. In that moment, the silence that filled the space was deafeningly loud and she was suddenly aware of how uncomfortably the stiff material of her uniform was rubbing against her skin. She felt useless. When she was with Roy, by his side 24/7, she didn't have to worry so much about his well being. She had become something of a nagging mother to him, constantly checking to make sure he was caught up with his paperwork and state issued tasks. Roy Mustang, who would parade around eccentrically and proudly, was practically an overgrown child. He was smart and level headed, but he behaved in a child like manner that made Riza want to wring out his neck on occasion. Even amidst all the scolding she'd have to enforce upon her former superior, his company lightened her heart and brought soft smiles to her calm face.
Riza was loyal to Roy, and to Roy only. It felt awful to be standing in his enemy's office, to be following his orders like a brainwashed pet instead of following the Colonel into hell like she had promised to. She felt utterly useless, being unable to reach out to him in any way other than in a strictly professional matter. He hadn't contacted her outside of work, therefore she didn't dare to contact him. She didn't want to get him into any more trouble than he already was in, but it seemed that he had done a fine job of doing that on his own. What had the idiot done now?
She didn't know how bad it was. She didn't know if he was alright, physically or mentally. She wasn't sure how he was dealing with Maes' death, nor was she certain about his obsession with finding Envy. But she knew something was wrong, and that was enough to make her itch to move. But she couldn't disobey direct orders from Roy's superiors. She'd get into so much trouble, and it would likely have severe ramifications on both Roy and the teenage alchemists. She didn't want that, she was a loyal soldier. The brown eyed woman would obey her orders and do what she was told, no matter what. That was what Roy wanted her to do, right? He wouldn't want her to let her emotions take over. He wouldn't want her to run after him, to make sure that he was alright when she had been specifically told to stay put. He wouldn't want her to risk her own life for him. So she stayed put, and stood incredibly still by Wrath's desk. She stood there for what felt like hours, though in reality it was around forty five minutes. She hadn't moved an inch, not even to lift a finger to scratch her face. She stood and waited, pushing down her concerns and putting on a brave face. It's what Roy would have wanted her to do, so she did.
After what felt like ages, the door to the office creaked open and Hawkeye's body stiffened impossibly further upon anticipating the entrance of the Homunculus Fuhrer. She prepared for her orders, and tried not to look put off by the enraged expression on his face that the dark haired man was not trying very hard to hide. His frown lines were emphasized by his deep frown and the curve in his brows, and he looked at Riza as if she were the root of his anger.
He quietly demanded her to follow him, fury laced in his tone. She obliged, suddenly feeling much smaller than the man who led her down the hall. She didn't enjoy the fact that he was leading her further into the East wing, where less soldiers were marching about and filling the space with familiarity. They were heading into a secluded part of the Command Center, and her defenses raised as she walked behind him.
The Fuhrer stopped by a door, and Riza looked blankly between it and his face. Without so much as a further explanation, the brooding man gestured for her to open the door impatiently. He didn't look at her, therefore he was not bothered by the long, emotionless stare she was giving him.
The blonde Lieutenant finally brought her hand to the doorknob. She wasn't exactly sure what to expect, whether she was in trouble or if he wanted to present some kind of chastisement onto her. From the way he looked angrily, yet expectantly to the door, she couldn't deduce that he was mad at her. If he were angry with her specifically, he likely would have made that known before he'd dragged her out of his office. So if it wasn't her, then could it have been the Colonel?
Twisting the doorknob and opening the dimly lit room, Riza couldn't hold in her gasp when she caught a glimpse of the man inhabiting the dark space.
It was an old storage room, it looked like. Books were scattered about the space, some by the walls piling into tall towers. There was a single chair in the midst of the clutter, and file cabinets that sat on either side of the chair, pressed up against the walls. It was a small space, and a dim candle barely lit up the chair's occupant's face.
His back was to her, but Riza recognized his hunched posture and his raven hair anywhere. His hair was unruly, a matted mess and the long tears in his clothing were more than concerning. The sight of blood leaking from his side to the floor from a sloppily wrapped bandage was enough to make Riza forget where she was, and who was standing behind her. Roy was hurt. That was her first thought, the only thing that mattered. Her right foot stepped forward, but the Fuhrer's voice prevented her from moving any further. Stunned and a bit discombobulated, she turned to look at Wrath. He glowered down at her, then looked over to the Colonel. His eye darkened, and Riza was sure that she didn't want to see the eye under his patch in this very moment. He'd looked terrifying enough, the lack of coverage on his eye would only contribute to his naturally intimidating and enraged nature.
He told her to keep herself together, then to look closer at the harmed Colonel. Once Riza had taken his words into account, she looked back to Roy and noticed a few things. He'd been involved in some kind of awful fight, yet he seemed to be rather calm. No, calm wasn't the right word. Still, his body was incredibly still. He was hunched over, his hand clutching his wounded side and his free elbow leaning on his knee as his hair covered his face. Riza couldn't see the front of him, but she could tell that he was not looking upward. He hadn't bothered to look up at all. Riza had been standing there for a minute now, and there was no doubt in her mind that the Colonel had detected her presence. It was strange that he seemingly hadn't been affected at all by her standing there, and it was right then and there that she confirmed her suspicions about Roy. Something was very wrong.
Riza entered the room fully and Bradley closed the door behind her. He moved to sit atop the file cabinet in front of Roy, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. Riza suddenly felt suffocated, and just utterly confused. For a moment, she wondered if the Fuhrer had put Roy into this state, but that wouldn't have explained why he'd been wrapped up with bandages, though the patch up was rushed and sloppy.
"The Colonel," Bradley started, voice reeking disgust. Roy didn't so much as flinch. "has made some grave decisions. And I want to know if you were involved with it."
"What?" Riza asked, her stoic nature slowly fading. "Sir, I have no idea what's going on here. Please explain," she finished more calmly. Her eyes flickered down to Roy frantically. He still hadn't moved.
The Fuhrer watched her intently, trying to figure out if she was telling the truth or not. He was painfully aware of her connection with Roy, which had been what led him to put her under his watch in the first place. The combination of them were crafty, but he was beginning to learn that one without the other was dangerous.
He played along, simply because he wasn't sure what to believe yet. "A Homunculus is dead," he said firmly. Riza stiffened, breath hitching in her throat.
"That's... that's possible?"
"Clearly," he spat. "Her name was Lust, and she worked closely with the Homunculus that murdered Maes Hughes. You remember that, don't you?"
"I..." she trailed off. "Yes, sir."
"She'd been assigned the job of keeping an eye on the Colonel. Does that, Lieutenant Hawkeye, sound familiar?"
Her expression tightened. "Yes, sir."
The Fuhrer hummed. "The stench of burning flesh is a strong one. More so when it's the flesh of your own kind."
"Sir... I'm not sure I-"
"We seven Homunculi tend to be closely knitted. Whether it's because of our origin from Father or our similarities in ability, we know when one of us is dead. It's not hard to figure out. It's as if a part of you fades away, if you understand what I mean," he said coolly. "Naturally, when I realized that one of us had died I left to see what had happened. I found your beloved Colonel slumped in an alleyway, where the scent of fire was the strongest."
Furrowing her brows, Riza's eyes fell onto Roy's figure once more. He had killed her? He killed a Homunculus? After everything that he had been told to do, he took it upon himself to pick a fight with one of Father's children?
"So you really didn't know," the Fuhrer groaned. "That look on your face says it all. Roy Mustang left you completely in the dark."
Riza inhaled stiffly, puffing her chest to appear less deflated and disappointed, confused and afraid.
"Don't look so offended by it. If you'd known, I would have had to kill you."
Roy's shoulders jolted slightly, and Riza's heart jumped. The dark haired Fuhrer lifted his brow, trailing his gaze down to the Flame Alchemist's hooded face. He recognized that tremble, the taught grip of his fingers digging into his side. The dangerously slow rise and fall of his back as he breathed heavily. The way his eyes peeked through strands of hair damp from heat and sweat, glittering horrifically past its shadows. Roy looked like a man out for blood.
"Pathetic," Bradley scoffed. "The difference between my wrath and yours is that I've spent years learning how to keep it at bay, while you let it swallow you whole in the midst of weakness. I shouldn't expect any less from a human, but truly- it's pathetic."
Roy's glare didn't falter. It was as if everything he had ever known had been completely forgotten, like he was a robot that had been rewired to view the world with nothing but a crimson vision. Riza didn't recognize the man that sat in that chair before her. She didn't know where her partner, the love of her life, had gone. And the sight of the unfamiliar Colonel sitting rigidly in front of her scared her, for she hadn't expected him of all people to look so... merciless.
"Touch my Lieutenant," a belligerent tone wafted from the Colonel's direction, causing Riza to press her lips tighter together. "and I'll kill you next."
"Colonel!" the blonde gasped in surprise. Roy had harbored a significant load of resentment toward the Fuhrer of Amestris, and he'd done everything he could in his career to prove that he was better than him. That he could take his place, and not only do that but be better. Riza supported him in his goals to make the country a better place, and when Bradley would approach Roy with news from Central Command years prior to their current predicament, Riza would watch the fiery alchemist feign respect and admiration in his presence silently. He'd always known his place as the Colonel, and he'd never allowed his distaste in the Fuhrer's decisions to lead him to insubordination.
Riza understood that Roy would give anything to protect her, and in return she'd do the same for him. But he'd never gone as far as threatening the man who held their very fates in his hands, in order to defend her honor. Riza's heart ached slightly, because she knew that this was for anything but her honor. Roy wasn't defending her because he cared about what would happen to her. If that were the case, he wouldn't have said anything and he wouldn't have killed one of the Fuhrer's peers. Roy Mustang was using whatever memory he had of his affection for her to fuel his rage, to give him reason to step out of place and make horrible decisions. His threat was an excuse, because in the end he knew that Riza would never endorse him saying something like that to a higher up- to a Homunculus working directly under the being that would bring his loved ones to their knees. She knew that he wasn't thinking about them, or her, when he remained as still as a lioness hunting its prey, after she unintentionally called out his name.
Her shoulders deflated when she realized that this was not Roy Mustang, and that she was just as useless in his presence as she had been without him.
"You'll kill me?" the Fuhrer repeated, incredibly slowly. The slight nasal in his voice dropped as he lifted himself from the filing cabinet and tucked his hands behind his back. He looked directly down at Roy's head, eyes gleaming. "Do you really think you can do that?"
Riza held her breath as Wrath leaned over, lowering his head to allow his right eye to meet Roy's deadly gaze directly. Her protective instincts were fighting her ability to think logically. Bradley was getting too close, and Roy was in no position to either take an attack from Bradley or try to fight on his own- and inevitably get tossed across the room as a result. She didn't want him to act recklessly, more recklessly than he already had. And she surely didn't want him to get any more hurt than he already was.
Riza had to remember her place as a soldier. She wasn't Roy's wife or his superior, she didn't have the right to jump in front of him and push the Fuhrer away to prevent further conflict. But god, did she want to. Her hands were itching to do something, and free strands of hair stuck to the sides of her face as the space grew warmer and her chest rose and fell more quickly.
She was a soldier first. She was a soldier before anything. Roy was not her responsibility, Roy was not her husband, and Fuhrer Bradley was not her inferior. It appeared that they were far too deep in this shitty situation for them to be released unpunished, therefore any further actions from her would reflect poorly on the kids. She wouldn't be the reason why any of them, (Y/n), Edward, and Alphonse, would plunge farther into the hell they'd been exposed to far too early on. She'd made a promise to Roy, to stick by him, but to also do what needed to be done when a dire situation presented itself to her. That meant, though he didn't directly say it, to abandon or kill him, if it came down to that. She was less lenient about the last request, only because (Y/n) needed her father with her, but she'd do what she needed to do just as promised. She would not help him if he were to get hurt again. Because this was not her fight, and the sins he committed were his own. He was a grown man, not a child. He knew what was right and wrong, and it was not her job to point that out for him.
Of course, Wrath received no response when he asked Roy a question. The man was like a statue, his eyes finding a place to focus and refusing to quit. He looked dead, the only thing keeping him alive being the fatal fire burning in the reflection of his eyes. It was almost symbolic, how the light of a candle lit Roy's gaze ablaze.
"You know what I think?" the Homunculus murmured, inching closer to the dark eyed man's hidden face. "I think your eyes are bigger than your stomach. So much so that you have no idea what you're suggesting nor who you're suggesting it to. I think you're a sad, small man who uses grief as an excuse to show your true colors. And I think that once you snap out of it, you'll down-spiral."
Bradley lifted his left hand and grasped a handful of Roy's hair, yanking it and pulling his head upward. Roy grunted, his face now vulnerable to Wrath's disgusted gaze. Riza growled under her breath, and her body almost moved despite everything she'd mulled over mentally.
"I said keep yourself together, Lieutenant," Bradley hissed, and she stopped. Against every instinct in her body, she moved back against the door and glared from afar.
"Tell me," he began as he refocused on Roy's battered face. The grit littered across his forehead and chin, the deep gash beneath his eye, and the hefty circles under his eyes. He looked awful, like some kind of killer. "What satisfaction do you get from killing Lust? Was it success you felt? Pride? The feeling of usefulness? Hope? Or was it absolutely nothing?"
Bradley's hands tightened around Roy's hair, causing a sharp sting to emit from his scalp as his neck was forced to crane further upward. His teeth gritted and one of his eyes scrunched closed, yet the anger remained. It always remained.
"You didn't feel shit after killing her except for emptiness and endless anger. Hell, it probably made you madder than you already were. Killing Lust was a one time thing, a thing that you will not be getting away with again. I hope you feel the guilt, and the pain, and everything that comes with the consequences of your insolent actions. I hope you fear facing your daughter ever again when you realize what you've done, and that you're the reason her dear friend will die. I hope this feeling haunts you forever, Colonel. Because listen to me when I tell you this, vengeance is a fruitless circle of emptiness that leads you to a miserable and lonely end. You'll never kill Envy, or avenge your friend- even though that's not at all what you're doing here. And if you do manage to get your hands on Envy, if you somehow manage to kill a Homunculus even stronger than Lust, then I hope you suffer from the sinking feeling afterward. The feeling that makes you realize you no longer hold any purpose, and that you'd wasted any time you had left by hunting down a creature that couldn't care less about you."
The room filled with eerie silence when Bradley stopped talking, and Riza's stomach churned upon hearing his words- because each outcome he described would be true if Roy continued down this path.
But Roy didn't say anything, and not a single part of him reacted to everything Wrath had just said to him. He struggled slightly against the grip he had on his hair, but other than that he was motionless. Lifeless.
Bradley released an angered "Tch," and adjusted his grip in Roy's hair so that his head was facing downward. He straightened his posture before bashing the Flame Alchemist's head into his lifted knee, harshly. Riza squeezed her eyes tightly as Roy yelled shortly in pain.
Wrath turned from him and faced the wall behind the filing cabinet, listening to the shuffling of Roy's body behind him as he likely lifted his hand to hold his nose.
"You do know what happens now," he started, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. "Winry dies."
"Sir, the Rockbell girl has nothing to do with this!" Riza suddenly shouted.
"She has everything to do with this. We sat down and chatted about it, didn't we Colonel? Me, you, your daughter, and the Elrics. I was terribly clear. And yet, I wasn't clear enough for you to understand," he grumbled. "She dies. And I'm sure Gluttony will be happy to fulfill that request, considering you killed the person closest to him."
He inhaled and exhaled. "I'll notify Father right away. In the meantime, Hawkeye, you should take the Colonel to the infirmary. I'm sure he can't ruin much of anything else in the hospital wing."
Riza stood stiffly as the Fuhrer brushed past her and exited the room. Once the door closed behind him, she rushed over to Roy with worry and anger clouding her mind. Blood was running from his nose, and she had to pry his hand away to get a proper look at the injury. She pushed his hair back as she knelt before him, examining his features and frowning at the sight of him. He didn't look at her. His gaze was unfocused as her fingers wandered his face to search for any more injuries other than his broken nose. Her expression was hard, jaw taught and brown eyes glistening.
"Can you stand?" she asked, voice as firm as it had always been. He didn't respond as her hands slipped from his face, and he stood up slowly. One of his hands held his nose while the other clutched his side, and Riza was there to stabilize him when he wobbled to the side. "Let's go," she said, wrapping her arm around him to clutch his wound as his arm fell limply over her shoulders and free hand remained on his crooked nose. "I don't have any tissue on me. You'll have to wait until we get to the infirmary."
"Riza," he muttered, and the blonde almost froze when she heard him address her by her first name. She tilted her head to look at him. His hair fell over his eyes once more and he was barely standing without her support. "Don't wait for me."
The Lieutenant's brows raised, her lips tightening to prevent from trembling. She shook her head and looked forward, focusing on getting the man she had entrusted her life to the infirmary, though she hardly recognized him. She had promised to abandon him when the time was right, but she didn't want that time to be now. She refused to allow that time to be now.
She silently pulled him down the hall, and once she got him to the infirmary she did not leave.
-
"Looks like you caught me Hohenheim. Let's have a little talk, shall we?"
Greed smirked cockily over at the stranger of a man who looked less than impressed by his presence at the table. (Y/n) and Edward watched how they looked at each other closely whilst inching closer together involuntarily. Edward's grip remained tight on the underside of (Y/n)'s chair, and the said girl's eyes focused on Hohenheim's expressions.
"Edward, you failed to tell me that you and your friend are acquainted with a Homunculus. And I'd find it hard to believe it if you told me you were unaware of this," he said easily, as though this was not the least bit alarming or surprising.
Greed looked over at (Y/n) and lifted his brows, as if asking her if she had anything to say before he decided to let the man have it. (Y/n) then looked at Edward, who looked back at her and said nothing. He looked like he was debating letting his father in on everything that they knew and had gone through. But, it was no secret that Hohenheim knew something about the Promised Day and the Homunculi, and there was no way they were going to get answers from him without telling him what had happened while he was away.
Edward lifted his arm from underneath (Y/n)'s chair to rest it behind her as he leaned into her ear. "Step around it first," he whispered, and (Y/n) nodded- ignoring the shudder that rolled through her body when Ed leaned close and whispered to her.
Hohenheim didn't turn to look at (Y/n) until she started talking.
"How do you know about the Homunculi?" she asked carefully. He stared at her for a moment before answering.
"I should be asking you the same question. The 'friend' you spoke of is sharing his body with one of them."
"Answer my question first. It's obvious you know something, especially since you can sense one of them in a room without any kind of physical evidence."
Greed leaned his elbow on the table and rested his cheek in his palm.
"I've been around for a long time," Hohenheim responded halfheartedly. (Y/n) stuck her neck out slightly and gave the man an odd look.
"What do you mean by that? What does that even mean?"
Hohenheim shifted in his seat and folded his hands together. "I understand that we are both involved with something that we shouldn't be."
"You-" Ed started, chewing the inside of his lip. His eyes flickered to (Y/n) and Greed when he gained his dad's attention. "You know, don't you? That's why you're here after years of being away. You know what's about to happen. Am I wrong?"
The seemingly middle aged man was quiet, thinking about how he would respond- what would be the proper response to his son. It was clear that Edward had no interest in talking about anything but this, and though Hohenheim didn't expect any less he was still extremely disappointed. He didn't want his kids to be involved in his mess. He had feared their involvement the second he laid his eyes on them at Trisha's grave, and now that Ed had confirmed his suspicions about their knowledge he was disheartened. How they got roped into this, Hohenheim didn't know. Hell, he'd raced all around the country for the past decade to ensure that his family would not be part of this.
They must have dealt with some horrible things in order to get to this point, Hohenheim figured, to have a Homunculus eating dinner with a family member as if he were a trusted friend.
"You're not wrong," he decided to say. "It's the Promised Day."
Edward scoffed and leaned back into the wooden chair. "Unbelievable. All this time, you knew. And instead of coming to face it, you ran away to Xing."
"You don't understand."
"What don't I understand? That you left? Knowing what was going to happen?" Hohenheim tightened his lips, for it was clear that there was something more he was not saying. "If you've got something to confess, out with it. 'Cause as of now, my hatred for you just increased tenfold."
"How long have you known about this, exactly?' (Y/n) questioned, swiftly directing the topic back to her interrogation.
"A very long time," Hohenheim answered.
"How long is 'a very long time'? We don't understand what that means," Edward snapped.
Hohenheim rose his finger into the air. "I answered your question, now you answer mine. How do you know about this? What happened while I was gone?"
"You would have known if you'd been here," Edward seethed under his breath.
"Listen, Van Hohenheim," (Y/n) started, leaning over the table and stretching out her hands. She didn't notice the way his brows twitched when she addressed him, therefore she hadn't realized that she called him by his full name. "This past like- month alone- has been completely insane- I didn't even know about the Promised Day until it was three weeks out, and now we only have a little over a week. Greed's the one who told me and my- my dad and his military Unit about everything."
Greed gave a half assed smile when Hohenheim looked at him as (Y/n) gestured over to the Homunculus.
"Why would a Homunculus help you?" Hohenheim frowned.
"Because he tried to kill her and he feels bad about it," Edward deadpanned.
"Excuse me?"
"God, will you quit bringing that up? That was weeks ago," Greed rolled his eyes.
"Look, this is the last time I'm explaining this to anyone. Greed shares his body with Ling Yao, who needed a Philosopher's Stone to bring home to his clan. The only reason why he agreed to bonding with that shithead is because his home and the fate of his people are in danger without it. Neither Ling or Greed are bad people. Greed did try to kill me, but not.... well- it's hard to explain. The point is, he helped me and Ed with a lot of things and he's saving our asses by being here."
Greed chuckled and tilted his head to the side, violet eyes glinting humorously. "Much appreciated, Sweetheart."
"Greed, shut up," (Y/n) sighed as Edward glared daggers at him.
"That still doesn't explain how you crossed paths with the Homunculi," Hohenheim commented.
"We've always known they existed," the (e/c) eyed girl said. "It wasn't until Edward, Alphonse, and I started searching the Philosopher's Stone when we met them face to face."
Hohenheim's expression showed that he was conflicted about whether he should have said anything on the matter.
"Don't worry. We already know everything there is to know about the damned stone. Finding out about it was... well it wasn't the answer we wanted. Especially since that was the only real lead we had regarding ways to restore Alphonse' body. After we found out the truth about the stone, we decided to investigate an abandoned laboratory in Central. That's where we encountered Homunculi for the very first time."
(Y/n) stopped and blinked, recalling what the Homunculus she had met in the Fifth Laboratory had done to Maes Hughes. It was funny, she had almost forgotten about the entire ordeal and now that she was thinking about the artificial being that had committed the horrific crime, it felt odd. It was strange, as if she were suddenly being reminded of something that she hadn't experienced- something that occurred years and years ago. She was discovering over and over how weird grief was. One minute, you were fine then the next you suddenly remembered everything like it had never happened.
She missed the way Ed's eyes landed on her face, consumed with worry, as she proceeded with her explanation. "Envy and Lust were their names. I had been the one to meet Envy while Edward faced Lust. It was there where we found out that we were deemed to be sacrifices for some greater scheme. Envy made it a point to tell me that I was useful, and neither me or Ed or Al were to be harmed because of our role in their twisted world. We didn't know what that meant at the time, but... now we do."
(Y/n) cleared her throat and blinked repeatedly. "We know you're a sacrifice, Hohenheim. We think... that's the real reason why you're here right now. You know what's going to happen to this country, and for some reason that I still don't understand, you feel some kind of responsibility for it. Like it's your fault. Like you deserve to watch your home get destroyed."
Hohenheim's face suddenly looked regretful. (Y/n) could feel and see the familiar aura of guilt wafting from his burly presence. For the first time that night, he looked slightly ashamed. There wasn't much of a change in his facial expression, but (Y/n) could notice the slightest difference in the way his shoulders slumped.
(Y/n) had noticed one thing that Ed and his father had in common- and that was the immense guilt they trudged around carrying on their shoulders. The difference between that commonality was how they went about addressing it. Edward, fierce and strong willed, fought to fix the errors that aroused the guilt in the first place. Van Hohenheim wallowed in it, and used it as a possible excuse to give up. He was no longer the once lively, ambitious young man he had been during the era of Xerxes, nevertheless that younger part of him would live on in his incredible children.
(Y/n) took Hohenheim's silence as a means for her to continue. "The five sacrifices that the father of the Homunculi are planning to use are Ed and Al, my dad, you, and me. I have no idea why the Promised Day revolves around us, nor do I understand what I have to do with it, but that is what's happening. We're currently split up from Alphonse because... something happened that made the father mad. He's planning on leaving us here until the Promised Day arrives, but those plans have changed. And now that I've answered that, you answer this. What is your connection to the Homunculus they call Father?"
"We saw him," Edward spoke up. "Al and I, almost two weeks ago. We saw his face. He looks just like you. How the hell is that possible? How do you two know each other?"
When Hohenheim still didn't respond, Edward grew frustrated. Before he could shout at him from across the table and likely disturb Granny, who was off in her own room, Greed spoke up.
"(Y/n). Tell him what you said earlier," he said coolly, eyes set on Hohenheim to see how he'd react.
The empath seemed suddenly unsure of herself. She wasn't sure what any of it had meant, but it obviously tied into Hohenheim and his relations with the Promised Day somehow.
"Does... does the number 23 mean anything to you?" she asked timidly. Hohenheim jumped, no longer able to hide his shock. His eyes grew wide, and his golden orbs settled onto (Y/n)'s figure like she was someone he hadn't gotten the chance to look at in centuries. His lips parted, his breath caught in his throat, as he looked at the young girl sitting beside his eldest son. He couldn't believe it.
"Where- Where did you hear that?" he finally asked.
"Well, I hadn't heard it anywhere. It just came to me after I met you earlier today. Greed said that Father would refer to you by 'Number 23', but I'm not entirely sure how I knew that. I just- I just said it."
Edward curled his brows confoundedly as Hohenheim huffed a dry laugh. He ran his hand over his mouth and scratched his stiff beard as he looked off to the side. His lips curled into a small, disbelieving small that caught Edward by surprise, for he hadn't seen him resemble anything close to a smile throughout the time he had spent around him.
"So what does it mean?" Greed asked, growing impatient with the man who seemed to only speak when he felt it was appropriate.
(Y/n) watched Van's movements closely, and studied his unique aura once more until something snapped inside her mind.
"You're not human, are you?" she inquired softly.
Ed and Greed made small noises of surprise, the whites of their eyes growing more visible as they stared at Hohenheim incredulously.
"What are you saying, (Y/n)?" The fifteen year old's best friend asked her, but she only stared forward as her theory molded together and unfolded the very truth before her with the simple look in the elder man's eyes.
Hohenheim removed his glasses and gently set them onto the table's surface. He was quiet for a moment, running his hand up and down his face in exhaustion before he decided to fill them in on what he knew.
"Back in Xerxes..." he began, looking everywhere but at the people watching him. "That was my name. Number 23."
"Back in Xerxes?!" Edward exclaimed, whipping his head around. "Xerxes fell four hundred years ago-"
"When Father created the first Philosopher's Stone," (Y/n) finished, voice smooth. "You were there. Weren't you?"
"That's... that's right," Hohenheim affirmed.
Greed chuckled and leaned back into his seat, shaking his head at the sheer amount of knowledge that, as one of the most powerful beings in the world, he did not hold. Edward was struggling to believe what he was hearing. Of course, he wholeheartedly believed everything that (Y/n) said, but to think that his father... was not a human being? All the time he'd spent cursing his name for being such a terrible father, could it have been because he didn't know how to be a father? Because he was not a mortal being? What the hell was he? Why had he kept so many things from him and Alphonse? Did his mother know about this? Was that why she seemed so understanding with his absence when the boys grew up without Hohenheim around?
(Y/n) sensed the incoming colorful combination of emotion from where Edward sat so closely to her. He had every right to feel what he was feeling- (Y/n) wouldn't know what to do with herself if she found out that a family member of hers, that spent the majority of their life being absent from hers, was not who she thought they were. It must have been a hard pill to swallow.
"But you," Hohenheim suddenly said, looking directly at (Y/n). "You were there too."
...
"What?"
"The hell are you saying?" Edward ran his hands through his bangs stressfully. "What, now that you're suddenly not a human, (Y/n) isn't one either?"
"(Y/n) is a human," his father corrected. "But she holds the power of an immortal being inside her."
These words instigated three different, personable reactions.
Greed was angry. He'd spent so much time trying to figure out why the hell (Y/n) was so special. Why she was so different from other people, why she meant so much to Father, why she had been able to penetrate his Ultimate Shield the first time he attacked her. Had this been why Father was so obsessed with her power? The real reason why? Because she had obtained some kind of otherworldly power unbeknownst to the girl who inhabited it in the first place? Why her? Of all crummy mortals, why did it have to be her? Why was she so deserving of this power, what did she have to do with something that happened four hundred or so years ago? She had a chance against Father for a reason, and this was that very reason. Not because she was smart, or kind, or intuitive, or the Colonel's daughter, but because she actually held some kind of unimaginable power within her chest. It explained so many things- why her alchemy was not blue but yellow, why her abilities differed so immensely from other strong state alchemists twice her age, why she had stuck out to him so much. It hadn't been her understanding of his position, or her openness to his character that intrigued him. It had been this stupid power all along, and he couldn't deny that now that he understood, it nagged at him in the worst possible way.
Edward was stunned, but less stunned than he should have been. More than anything, he just wanted to understand more. How had he spent four years with this girl, and he completely missed the fact that her power must have originated from something. It must have been the combination of her empathic mindset as well as the power that dwelled within her that made her so strong, and he just wanted to know more about it. He almost felt like an idiot. His best friend had been so much stronger than he had already believed her to be. All those times she compared her alchemy to his, telling him that she wished she was as strong as him, was such bullshit. She'd held unimaginable strength inside her all along, and yet she was constantly placing Edward on a pedestal above her. He didn't like comparing strengths to begin with. They were both the youngest State Alchemists in history, they needed to watch out for each other- to support each other, to fight beside one another, not to place one above the other in accordance to strength. Why had (Y/n) diminished her capabilities so often when it came to Edward? Granted, she only just discovered that she could take her alchemy to lengths she hadn't imagined, but maybe if she had more confidence in herself before, she would have been able to discover and nurture her talent early on. But Edward would have to push aside those thoughts for now, and focus on everything his father would say tonight. He just hoped that (Y/n) was taking the news in a positive way.
The said teenage alchemist stared blankly at the man before her. It looked as if she were a computer attempting to restart after having been given an overload of information. Growing up in an atmosphere where everyone around her told her that she was special had put a lot of pressure on her shoulders. She appreciated the fact that she could help people with her abilities in a way that she hadn't been able to for her parents when they were killed. She was grateful for the strength that she had, and though her empathy was extremely taxing- sometimes even the root of her anxieties and insecurities- she was grateful that she could connect with as many people as she could. Still, as special as everyone had made her out to be, she hadn't expected to be told that she was somehow involved with the fall of Xerxes- that she held the power of an immortal within her breast and she didn't even know. This must have been why Father needed her, why he was so fascinated with her. (Y/n) truly did pose as a threat to him, because whatever power she harbored was a power that the Father must have wanted for himself. She didn't know what to say. Her mouth had suddenly gone dry and her brows raised. She looked completely dumbfounded, unsure of what words to speak or if she even wanted to continue this conversation. (Y/n) Mustang could list every strength and weakness of those closest to her, from every little habit they had to each emotion they believed they could hide- yet she knew so little about herself. She was so uninformed of her own strengths, habits, and emotions that she had to hear an explanation of her power from her best friend's deadbeat immortal father. She could deal with Hohenheim being immortal, but she had no idea how to digest the fact that she had been walking around with the power of an immortal all of her life.
"You all look surprised," Hohenheim exhaled as he scanned the three faces before him. "You must have known that you were different, (Y/n). I knew the moment I saw you. I only just figured out why."
"How-" (Y/n) gulped. "I mean, how-"
"Tell me about your alchemy."
(Y/n)'s lips parted to speak but nothing came out. She turned to Edward, he gave her a comforting look and nodded stiffly.
"I... well I tend to empathize with people on a daily basis... and I guess that somehow influenced my alchemy. When I stab a Homunculus with my transmuted weapon, the makeup of their emotion- or more specifically, their sin- flows into me until it changes the power, flexibility, and appearance of my weapon. I sparred with Greed and I wasn't able to bring him down until I had managed to transmute the weapon that appears when my sword penetrates some part of his body. And before that, when he had tried to kill me, I managed to break past his Ultimate Shield to stab him without any influence of his power. His Ultimate Shield is like diamond, by the way. I still don't understand how my weapon managed to break past that on its own."
Hohenheim hummed. "And the color of the energy that your transmutations produce?"
"It's yellow. Not blue."
"As I thought. That's the influence of an ancient Homunculus' power."
"Are you gonna explain what the hell this 'ancient power' is, or do we have to wait for you to cough it up," Greed grumbled, and Hohenheim gave him a cold look out of the corner of his eye.
"There was another Homunculus living while the Dwarf was living," he said.
"Who's the Dwarf?" (Y/n) asked, curiously- cautiously.
"What you call Father. Back in Xerxes, Father was nothing but a mere Dwarf in a Flask. The first Homunculus, resembling that of a small, dark cloud. Back then, I was nothing but a slave given a number for a name. Nothing but a man named by a Dwarf in the Flask
"Xerxes was a peaceful, prosperous land. I remember many kind people, they were all quite humble. Grateful for the life they had been given in this beautiful city. If only I had remained as content... the Dwarf in the Flask was created using my blood. My master used slaves in his experiments to create artificial life forms, and each experiment failed and every slave he used died until... until me. The Dwarf filled my mind with knowledge of the outside world. It taught me to read and write, and fueled my curiosity of freedom with descriptions of vast seas and diverse civilizations. Everything he told me about life outside of slavery seemed so much nicer than the life I was given. Neither of us had freedom, and the Dwarf used that to his advantage.
"He's a selfish creature. One that can find a way to grasp the world in his hand and still want more. He was greedy, and pompous. Every red flag was there, but I ignored them simply because I wanted to be free as well. I wanted to live life on my own, not under someone's command. I had been happy in Xerxes, but I allowed the Dwarf to push his nonsensical dreams onto me. I confused my ambitions with his, and it cost me greatly.
"The second, and only other Homunculus that had been created during that time was far different from Father. To start, its shape was malleable. It looked something like a ghost that glowed with golden light, and it twisted itself into any shape it desired within its flask. The slave whose blood and body had been used to create it died, yet even in death they produced an extraordinary thing. The second Dwarf in the Flask was patient. It understood me, it understood Father, and above all, it understood that the life it was given was more than enough. Sometimes, I wonder if it birthed the idea of empathy. The way it shifted into the shape of me whenever we spoke like it was trying to take on my burdens. It was... something. I only wish I hadn't been so blinded by Father's words. It warned me about him, time and time again. And I never listened, and even through all my ignorance it was always so patient... so understanding. Does that sound familiar?"
Edward peeked at (Y/n) out of the corner of his eye, and he had to stop himself from commenting.
"Father wanted to live forever, and the other Homunculus could only live on within someone else if it truly wanted to. The second Dwarf wasn't physically immortal, but its power was. Even then, I had no idea what that meant. I didn't want to know what it meant, but I paid the price for my ignorance when the time came.
"As well as being created using my blood, Father's origin came from the Eye. The Eye can be conceived as the Eye of God or the being that exists on the other side of the Gate of Truth. I understand you are familiar with that, Edward."
Edward gulped. "Hold on, Father holds the knowledge of Truth within him?"
"If not more than that, yes."
(Y/n) barely understood the concept of Truth. Every time Edward tried to explain it to her, she zoned out or got lost in the jumble of his words. It was hard for someone who didn't experience it first hand to understand what Truth entailed and what it had to offer. (Y/n) knew that seeing the Truth gave Edward the ability to transmute without a circle, and that witnessing the Truth itself was incredibly overwhelming. She'd have to get a stronger grasp on the concept before the Promised Day, especially if the Truth tied into the power that Father, as well as herself, had.
"With that knowledge, the Dwarf in the Flask manipulated the King of Xerxes into creating a Philosopher's Stone. The king had believed that Father was giving him eternal life, and his trust in it was stronger because of my affiliation with it. But, when the ritual was prepared, the King- as well as the entire population of Xerxes- was killed. Father used them, my friends, to create a body for himself that resembled me. He split the inhabitants of the stone in two, one for himself and one for me, so that I, too, would have immortal life.
"Stepping out into the city after the ritual was horrifying. All the life I'd ever known- the humanity, the warmth, the kindness of strangers- was all gone. Bakers, wives, children that I'd watch play from across the street were stuffed inside of me to give me a life that I had only thought I wanted. But I didn't. It was... it was all my fault. I'd lost everything, people had lost their lives because of me. If I had just listened to the second Homunculus... I would have died in Xerxes. I would have known peace, and I would have spared so, so many lives."
"Don't," (Y/n) interrupted. "Don't do that, don't play the guilt card. How would you have known that this would happen? You were just a man overpowered by curiosity. You didn't know any better. And no way am I defending you for what happened, but I'll be damned if I sit here and listen to the father of my best friend talk about how he wished that he would have died four hundred years ago."
(Y/n) scooted her chair closer to the table and leaned over slightly. "Look at what you made here. Look at what you learned. You learned to love a woman, and you gave her children. You gave me a best friend, and you gave the world a light to hold on to in the darkest times. Without you, Edward and Alphonse wouldn't be here. You wouldn't have left them, they wouldn't have committed the Ultimate Taboo, and therefore I would have never met them. Listen to how insane life is! Horrible mistakes can lead to the most beautiful occurrences. Even if it sounds awful to say, without death and devastation there would be no love. You fucked up, over and over, but are you seriously going to let yourself cry over that for four hundred more years? Stand up, be there for your kids, and fight, dammit! If you love them, you'll fight. You don't leave, you don't decide that you're not good enough for them- you fight. Then, after you've done everything you could have, after you've been the best father you could be, only then can you let them decide if you're not good enough. It's not your place to remove yourself from their lives because you're not happy with who you are. They're gonna need you once shit hits the fan in a week, so be here."
With hot cheeks, she pushed herself away from the table and leaned into her chair. She didn't bother looking at Edward because she knew that his eyes were already on her. Greed had watched silently, his eye twitching slightly as the words flew out of her mouth. Hohenheim, though his face was still, looked like he could have cried. But he didn't.
"I lived amongst humans for so long, trying to find some sense of normalcy," he said quietly, as if he were afraid to go on. "I only discovered love when I met... Trisha." He glanced at Edward, who refused to let his hard face fall. "Edward, I truly did love your mother. She was the only woman I ever loved, and I beat myself up every day for not being able to be there for her. And for you and Al."
Edward looked to the ceiling as his nose flared, his lashes fluttering.
"I didn't know how to be a dad. I always knew that the Dwarf would make another move during this time. He'd spoken it into existence. He'd always said that he would... surpass God. Like the power was something that had been promised to him- which of course, was ridiculous. I was scared of letting you down. I was scared of watching you get killed. I know that when I left, you were hurt. I know that me not being here made you hate me more and more with each passing day, but please know that I left to protect you.
"The only way for me to care for you at the time was to leave and spark my plan to fight back into action. I knew what was going to happen to this country, and I refused to be unprepared for it like I was when Xerxes fell. I couldn't be present as your dad and protect you at the same time, and I am truly sorry for that. I'm sorry things had to work out this way. I wasn't... there. And even when I was still around, I wasn't there with you. My mind was always elsewhere, in a different world. I told myself every single day that leaving you was the only choice I had, and I tried to find a way to live with what I did with the reassurance that you would be safe if I left to conjure a proper way to fight the Dwarf.
"I'm not trying to make you see me in a better light, and I don't expect you to believe me when I say that I left you and Alphonse for your own good. But every day I do not see you boys, every day I remember how short Trisha's life was and how I was not there to guide you through your grief, to be a... father, I ache. Edward, you must know I did not abandon you without reason. Hear me when I say that I would have stayed to be a better father if I could have."
A lump formed in (Y/n)'s throat as she looked at Edward, who was avoiding all eye contact. He took a deep breath and lowered his head, closing his eyes. "Just... Just tell us what you know. I don't need to hear this right now."
"Edward," (Y/n) started.
"I don't," he glared at her, lifting his arm from behind her. "We just need to know what he knows so that we can hurry up and get up north, and make sure Winry's okay."
"I'm afraid I don't know what else you'd like me to say. I came back to face the Dwarf, and to say goodbye. Nothing else."
"To say goodbye?" (Y/n) echoed. "What do you mean by that? Why would you say goodbye? You said your reason to leave my friends was to have a way to fight back now, right? So what's the deal? Are you not ready to fight? Do you not think you'll win? I-I don't get it. Why would you say goodbye?"
"(Y/n), please," Greed sighed boredly. "Look at the guy. He's been alive for eons. You really think he plans on staying around if his 'plan to fight Father' turns out right?"
The (s/c) skinned girl whipped her head back around after looking to Greed, her brows arched in shock. "What is Greed saying?"
"I'd... rather not discuss this," Hohenheim sighed after a moment of silence.
"Hold on a minute," (Y/n) urged. "You're not gonna-"
Hohenheim lifted his hand to stop her, a tired look overcoming his features. (Y/n) caught the way he glanced at Edward out of the corner of his eye, as if he were trying to be weary of what was being said around the boy.
The (e/c) girl could feel her stomach sink as she came to understand what Hohenheim meant. To say goodbye, as if he didn't plan to remain on this earth once he finished what he started.
She dared to look over at Edward, who had a far off look in his fiery eyes. It almost appeared as if he hadn't been listening, but when (Y/n) caught a glimpse of his hand trembling in a fist beneath the table, she knew that he heard and understood every what of what his father had said.
Hohenheim picked up his glasses off of the table and wiped them with the hem of his coat. "Father is jealous of you. He needs you as the main human sacrifice because the Homunculus' power inside of you has always been something that he wanted, yet he couldn't have. I see that he split himself into seven- each Homunculus being the embodiment of human sin that he thought he could pluck away to appear less weak."
"Y-Yeah."
"There's only six left now," Greed added.
Hohenheim quirked a brow. "Oh?"
"(Y/n)'s dad killed her. Her name was Lust."
Hohenheim looked to (Y/n) with surprise in his eyes. "You mean- a mere human was able to kill a Homunculus?"
"I wouldn't look so excited. It's not a good thing," Edward grunted.
"Why is that? Who exactly is your father, (Y/n)?"
"Um... well I'm actually adopted. My parents lived in poverty and they died when I was five. I was adopted by the military's Colonel of Eastern Command. They call him the Flame Alchemist. He's the one who raised me... and recently- um... recently we both lost someone really close to us at the hands of Envy, and he's not taking it very well. He spiraled and killed Lust, which is bad because he had promised Father that he wouldn't cause any trouble or else Winry's life would be on the line."
"I see. Was this person killed on Father's order?"
(Y/n) nodded mutely. "He was the General of Central Command. He was a really good man... helped me with a lot of things. We only lost him a little less than two weeks ago. His death was a warning... if we were to meddle with Father's plans any more than we apparently had, he'd continue to kill the people closest to us. Roy- er- my dad disregarded that in his rage and killed one of his 'children'."
"I'm sorry for your loss. Truly."
(Y/n) shook her head. "That's why we need to get Winry to Briggs with Alphonse before something happens to her."
"Let me ask you something," Ed's father pushed his glasses onto the bridge of his nose. (Y/n) looked at him and awaited his question. "Do you think you can defeat him?"
She blinked. "I... do. There's no reason why I shouldn't, considering I'm the only person he sees as a threat. I was able to beat Greed in a fight-"
"It took you all day. Plus, you couldn't break my shield until you did all that alchemy reconstruction stuff," Greed reminded (Y/n).
"But the point is that fighting against you gave me an advantage. If I can harness power from you, then I must be able to harness power from Father. He's a Homunculus, just like you."
"He's different, (Y/n). He's the first Homunculus," Hohenheim informed. "He knows a lot more than you, and though you have the power of the second Homunculus within you, you don't have complete control of it yet."
"Then I'll just train harder," (Y/n) said firmly. "I'll get stronger, I'll do what I need to do. Whatever it is, I'll do it."
"You haven't seen the Truth." (Y/n) froze, gazing blankly at the man who resembled her dearest friends. "The Truth will give you an advantage. But you haven't seen it, and no one who hasn't experienced it for themselves truly knows what it's like."
"So you're saying I have to be exposed to Truth to have a chance against Father? There's no other way?"
"Hear me when I say this- I have complete faith that if anyone can stop him, it's you," Hohenheim narrowed his eyes. "I don't know you, but I know that my son believes in you and I know the power inside of you. Truth is the advantage Father has over you."
"How do I... I mean- what do I have to do to see it? I know how Edward was able to see it, but I don't- I don't know what I should do."
Greed lifted his head up slightly when an idea popped into his head. Granted, it was crazy, but it would work if Truth was really what (Y/n) needed to see. He was sick of his Father, and in all honesty, he wanted this shit show to come to an end. He hadn't wanted to turn against his 'family', nor did he want to be one of the reasons why Maes had been murdered, but he was honestly just tired. If (Y/n) winning against Father's power was going to fill the emptiness he felt inside, then maybe he just needed to continue doing what he could to help her.
"Yo," he spoke up. All heads turned into his direction and he shifted so that he leaned over the table, arms folded on the neat wood. "What are the odds we bump into Gluttony?" he asked.
(Y/n) and Ed exchanged confused glances. "I don't know," the girl answered. "Why?"
"Remember I said that Gluttony eats everything and anything?" The alchemists nodded. "Where do you suppose all of that goes? The buildings, the people, the livestock?"
"Down... his stomach?" Ed answered as if Greed were dumb.
"No person can eat a whole house with just their mouth. Not even a Homunculus," the avaricious Homunculus scoffed. "See, when Gluttony swallows something whole, he opens up his stomach."
"Gross," (Y/n) scrunched her nose.
"Listen," Greed growled. "His stomach opens up, revealing what you call 'The Eye' or a replication of that eye. Gluttony's one of Pops' failed experiments. Every now and then he tries to recreate something that shouldn't be recreated, and in this case it was the portal of Truth. When Gluttony opens up his stomach, he sucks in everything in his path. Everything that's sucked up ends up in this space between reality and nonexistence. It's the dark, empty place that has no exit other than traveling through the real portal of Truth."
"I see what you're saying," Edward muttered. "You think we should let ourselves get eaten by him in order for (Y/n) to discover Truth."
"Hold on, that's suicidal," Hohenheim disagreed. "You have know way of knowing if that's even a plausible way of escaping what would be this Homunculus' stomach."
"It's worth trying instead of giving up, don't you think?" (Y/n) argued, and Hohenheim decided it would be best not to argue. "Is this really something you think we could pull off?" she turned to ask Greed.
"I don't know, but you both would be pissed at me if I hadn't suggested it."
(Y/n) chuckled lightly and rested her elbow on the table, cheek in palm as she looked up at Edward. "What're you thinking?" she asked him softly.
The blonde glanced down at her and breathed out through his nose. He noticed the hopeful look in her eyes that overpowered the fear and confusion. Even after finding out about the true origin of her power, Edward would always look at her just the same as he always had. She was (Y/n), his selfless and tenacious best friend. He scanned her face for any hidden tells, maybe if she were looking for some way around this, but there were none. She was looking to him to see what he'd think. She wanted and valued his opinion, just as she always had.
He groaned and mimicked her actions, elbows on the table and hands cupping his face as he looked down at her. Her lips twitched upward slightly, and he couldn't help but feel his own mouth doing this same as he gazed at her determined face.
"So you wanna see Truth, huh?"
(Y/n) snickered and bit her lip, shaking her head and shrugging. "It seems I have no choice."
"And we're gonna let a Homunculus eat us?"
"You word it so terribly," she looked down from his gaze. "We'll be fine. We'll get Winry up north, head there ourselves, and find out how to track him down from there. Winry's our first priority, then we can worry about Gluttony and Truth."
"Right," Edward nodded. "And you're okay with all of this?"
"I have to be, Ed. There's no 'not being okay with this'. I just have to accept it all and keep moving. And when this is over, we'll be back to focusing on getting Al's body back."
"How many times do I have to tell you to stop and think about yourself? This is big, you idiot. I mean, all the power you've ever known-"
"I know. And I'll do my best, but we don't really have the time for me to sit down and take it all in, in awe. We just need to do what we need to do."
"But, (Y/n)-"
"Are you two done over there?" Greed called out, and the two teens slowly looked at him angrily. "Great. We all caught up? Ling? You have anything to contribute to the conversation? I know you wanted to talk to the guy."
There was a beat while Greed's posture and mannerisms shifted in accordance to Ling Yao's personality.
"Nope. Looks like you answered every question I had already," the prince said disappointedly, crossing his arms and sighing. "So are we calling this Winry girl or what?"
Edward threw his hands up in the air and allowed them to fall to his sides, lips pursed. "Looks like it."