Fullmetal Hero

by Anon9876

Summary:

There was something strange about this world. Something in the air. Ed wasn't quite sure what it was, but he was going to get to the bottom of this.

When Edward Elric travels through the portal after defeating Father, Truth refuses to accept Ed's alchemy in exchange for Alphonse. He is faced with three choices, none appealing. Either return empty-handed, sacrifice his own life for Alphonse's, or do a favor for Truth. He picks option three, and finds himself waking up on a trash-covered beach in a strange world, one where every man, woman, and child have some strange power. In order to get home, he must accomplish whatever it is that Truth wants from him, and unfortunately, the being is not exactly inclined to provide thorough explanations.

Notes:

• Inspired by Dost Thou Even Steal Hearts? by BukuBuku

So... I had a sudden inspiration.

Chapter 1: Services Rendered

“I… just wanted perfection,” said Father, falling to his knees in the center of the scene of destruction he had unleashed. His supposedly perfect body, now a hunk of carbon, slowly began to disintegrate in the wind, only for a familiar eye to open underneath him, and a moment later, the black hands dragged him into the portal. There was a massive explosion of red energy, and a moment later…

 

He was gone. 

 

They did it. They won. Amestris was saved. The world was saved. Humanity was saved. A triumphant cry echoed from the crowd of soldiers who had put their lives on the line to fight an enemy they should have had no chance of defeating, but Ed didn’t join them. He was too focused on the empty shell of a suit of armor sitting prone on the ground. 

 

Alphonse was gone. There would be no celebrating until his brother was back, ideally in his original body. He walked forward, kneeling down next to May Chang, crying over Al’s body.

 

“I’m… I’m sorry,” she said through tears, “I’m so sorry.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” said Ed, staring 

 

“Ed,” called Ling, holding up a vial with a red liquid, “I’ve got the toll for him. Take it. It’s a philosopher’s stone. Use it to bring him back.”

 

“...I can’t,” grimaced Ed, fists shaking with rage, “As much as I want to, I can’t. I promised Al we’d never use a philosopher’s stone.

 

There had to be a way to get him back without one. There had to be! He just needed to think. To keep thinking.

 

“...Edward,” said a voice from behind him. It was Hohenheim, leaning on Teacher. “Use my life for the toll. Use me to save Alphonse. I’ve got just enough life left in me.”

“No way!” yelled Ed, “I could never do that, you dumbass! This doesn’t have anything to do with you! It’s our own damn fault! I won’t use another human life to get Al back, and I don’t care who it is! Why should you sacrifice your life for our mistake!?”

 

“Because I’m his father,” said Hohenheim, as perfectly calm as always, “And that’s the only thing that matters. You don’t know how much you boys mean to me, and I just want you to be happy. And I do bear some responsibility for this. This might not have happened if I had just been there for you. I’m sorry, Ed. I’ve lived long enough. Just give me this chance to act like a father for once in my life.”

 

“SHUT UP, YOU ROTTEN FATHER!” Ed yelled through tears, “IF YOU SAY SOMETHING THAT DUMB AGAIN, THEN I’LL KNOCK YOU OUT!”

 

“I’m sorry, forgive me,” said Hohenheim.

 

Think! Come on! You’re the youngest state alchemist in history, damn it! You’ve seen the truth, you can transmute with your bare hands! There’s got to be some way! There has to be! His eyes widened, and he glanced toward Mustand and Hawkeye. He couldn’t give up. There had to be some way. There had to be something… 

 

He looked down at his hands, and a smile appeared on his face.

 

“Alphonse…” cried May Chang, “Poor Alphonse…”

 

“May, stand back a little,” said Ed, a smile on his face. He picked up a stick and began to draw what would be his final transmutation circle.

 

“Is that…” gasped Ling, “It’s a human transmutation circle!”

 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” smirked Ed, “This is my last transmutation. Stand back and enjoy the show!”

 

It was a weird thing to say, but he was getting used to the sensation of getting torn apart by dozens of tiny, black hands and dragged into a white void. This was, what, the fourth time he had been dragged through the portal? With any luck, this would be his last. Father was dead, turned to ash. Alphonse would be dragged back to the real world, body and soul. In a few moments, his God-forsaken quest would be over, either because he had succeeded or died trying.

 

“I take it you’re here to retrieve your brother,” said the Truth, casually sitting on the floor as always, “Just how do you plan on pulling an entire human out of here? What’s your payment? Do you intend on trading your own body?”

 

“Yeah, I’ve got your payment right here!” gesturing to his own portal, “So go ahead and take it!”

 

Truth’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Was he… it… surprised? Oh, that sight alone was worth more than this crappy portal.

 

“This thing is my portal of truth,” he continued, “So I get to make the decision on how it’s used. Is that right?”

 

Truth laughed. “It’s come to that?” it asked, “And you’re sure about this? You realize you’ll never be able to perform alchemy again without your portal.”

 

“I’m aware of that,” said Ed, “This portal… I know it contains every secret alchemy has to offer… However, it’s also led me astray. I saw the truth that lies within it. I became convinced I could solve every problem with alchemy. But I couldn’t possibly have been more wrong. That was just arrogance.”

 

“You’re willing to cast it aside?” asked Truth, “To lower yourself to a simple human?”

 

“What do you mean to lower yourself?” Ed asked rhetorically, “A simple human is all I’ve been. Just a simple human that couldn’t save a little girl. Not even with alchemy.”

 

“You’re sure you’ll be alright without it?” asked Truth, “Be careful now.”

 

The voices of his friends flashed through his mind. Teacher. Mustang. Winry. Ling. Armstrong. May Chang. All of them. “Who even needs alchemy?” he asked, “When I’ve got them!”

 

“You’ve done it!” cried Truth, “That’s the right answer!” 

 

Ed triumphantly clasped his hands together, pressing them against the portal. This would be his last act of alchemy. And he was fine with that.

 

Only…

 

Nothing happened.

 

The portal was unchanged.

 

“Your alchemy is worthless,” said Truth, “You have just acknowledged as much. It is nothing compared to them. So… tell me, Edward Elric, why should I accept it as payment? It is the law of equivalent exchange, I cannot accept your alchemy in exchange for your brother and a lifetime of happiness.”

 

Ed grimaced. “Fine,” he said, turning back around, “Then take me. Give Al back and take me.”

 

“We can make that deal,” said Truth, standing up, “However… in this case and this case only… I shall accept services rendered.”

 

“...What?” said Ed, eyes widening, “What the hell do you mean services rendered ?”

 

“Equivalent exchange,” said the Truth, “You shall have your brother, and in exchange you will do something for me.”

 

Ed just stared at the being in a stunned silence. Services rendered. Services rendered . Truth, God, the universe, Adonai, he wanted services rendered.

 

“You’ll know what needs to be done,” continued Truth, stepping closer, “Do you accept?”

 

God… GOD DAMN IT! Of course, it wouldn’t be this easy. Of course this bastard wouldn’t let him just walk away with his brother. What on Earth could… God want from some simple human like him.

 

“...You’ll give me Alphonse back?” asked Ed. The Truth nodded. “Then I’ll do it. But I’m not killing anyone for you if that’s what you’re asking.”

 

"These terms are acceptable,” said the Truth, extending a hand.

 

Eh, he had come this far. What were a few more steps to get Alphonse’s body back? Ed shook the being’s hand, and the portal of truth flung open. Again, the dozens of black hands tore him to pieces, and he was dragged through the stone doors. 

 

Let’s just hope he wouldn’t keep them all waiting for too long. He couldn’t bear to let everyone think both he and Al were truly gone. 

 

Besides, he still had to pay back Mustang’s 520 cens. 

 

He had to see off Ling and May Chang before they returned to Xing. 

 

He had to see Scar build a new Ishval. 

 

Heinkel and Darius getting their bodies back.

 

Alphonse tasting all the food on his list.

 

He had to see Winry’s tears of joy.

 

“Remember!” called the Truth, “Always remember the truth within the truth that you have just told me, Edward Elric!”

 

______________________________________________________________________

 

Wherever he was… 

 

It was real. He was out of the void. The Truth had spat him out somewhere in the material world. He could feel and smell and hear it all. There were seagull cries in the air, warm sand in his face, and a hint of salt filling his nostrils.

 

So he must be by a beach somewhere. Only… Amestris was landlocked. There were no oceans in the entire country. Why on earth had Truth sent him here? And… where on earth had he been sent? There was something strange about this land, wherever it was. In Amestris, they drew what powered their alchemy from the movement of the Earth, although Ed was now questioning that. May Chang had said it felt like a cry of pain, not unlike a philosopher’s stone. But whatever it was that powered their alchemy, Ed felt it here, only it permeated the air, yet it was entirely absent beneath his face pressed into the sand.

 

Speaking of which…

 

Ed lifted up his head and wiped the sand off his face before rising to his feet. From his jacket to his socks, all his clothes were all soaked.

 

“Let’s see if this still works,” he muttered, pressing his hands together before grabbing hold of his coat. There was a flash of blue energy, and a split-second later, a blob of water and sand fell to the ground, and his coat was dry. A second later, his shirt was dry, and then his pants. The socks and underwear would have to wait for a bit more privacy, he supposed.

 

Now reasonably comfortable, he…

 

Huh. His wounds were healed. Ten minutes ago, a stick of rebar was impaled through his good arm. Er, well… his formerly good arm. There was no ‘good arm’ anymore; his right leg was back to normal, although his left leg was still good old-fashioned auto-mail.

 

Anyway, the Truth had told him he would know what needed to be done. He supposed he’d have to do a bit of exploring before realizing it. Ed walked through the trash-covered beach, filled with quite a few peculiar-looking metal boxes. There was nothing that immediately jumped out to him as wrong; the cars looked quite strange, and some of the people wore strange, colorful clothing with weird symbols on it. Who the hell was ‘All Might’ and why was someone wearing a shirt with his face on it? Could it be some kind of local religion? 

 

Or… maybe he was a character of some kind? There was a large poster for a film about him above some buildings, larger than anything he had seen. Why would they bother putting posters up that high? People weren’t casually looking up to see it or anything. Besides, it had to be a pain in the ass to take it down–

 

Woah…

 

In an instant, the ad for the movie was replaced by one for something called a ‘McDonald.’ How the hell was that even possible? Some kind of alchemy? Or perhaps some advanced technology. That would explain the weird car and what that metal box was. 

 

He continued to look and walk around. A person spoke into a tiny black rectangle as he walked past Ed. Eventually, after a few minutes of walking, he found himself standing outside a building emanating flashing lights and a cacophony of buzzes and dings. An arcade. That sure as hell wasn’t like any arcade he had ever been to before. After a little more walking, he noticed a sound coming from above him. He looked up to see some strange metal contraption with four blades descending from the in the distance. A flying machine?! They really had flying machines here!? Ed wasn’t super familiar with lands outside of Amestris, but he had to imagine news of something like that would spread quickly.

 

Then… 

 

It hit him.

 

There was a flyer on a streetlight advertising the same film for this ‘All Might.’ He noticed something in the corner, something he wasn’t able to see at that distance, illuminated one above the rooftops. Coming out August 9th, 2413. 

 

2413. Ed knew that some other countries had their own calendar with their own year 0, but this one used August just like they did. Could… Could he really be in the future? Was that why the technology was so advanced here? Did Truth really have that power? Did that mean the future was set in stone? Did free will exist? Had every action, every step he took on his journey to acquire his body been pre-ordained? Father, the homunculi, Amestris, had that all been inevitable?

 

And why the hell had Truth sent him here!? It told him that he would know, but so far, nothing seemed overtly wrong to him! People were going about their day, children were walking home from school, what the hell was so wrong about this place that the Truth, basically God, decided to hurl him here!?

 

“Excuse me, kid,” called a voice from behind him as he felt a hand on his shoulder, “Are you alright?”

 

Oh…

 

He hadn’t realized he had fallen to his knees in the middle of the sidewalk, right in front of the street light.

 

“Yeah, just… It’s been a long day,” said Ed, accepting the hand only to double-take as he realized the man standing behind him was wearing a strange suit of black and white armor.  

 

“Are you sure?” said the armored man, his helmet barely concealing his skepticism.

 

“Yeah,” said Ed, “I should be getting home.”

 

“...Alright then,” said the armored man, “Stay safe.”

 

That was… odd. What the hell was a person doing wearing armor like that? Even in his time, something like that was at least a hundred years out of date (Unless, of course, your soul was bonded to it). He had to imagine that another five-hundred years of weapons innovation had to make something like that even more useless. Maybe there had also been some corresponding metallurgy innovations to make it practical. It looked like a car’s exhaust pipe was sticking out of his elbows, so perhaps there was more to it than meets the eye.

 

That, of course, wasn’t even addressing the question of what the hell he was doing wearing armor like that. The man drew eyes as he walked down the street, but nobody seemed particularly shocked. He didn’t look like a soldier, and he didn’t appear to carry a gun, so who the hell was he?

 

He needed to slow down, Ed decided. The wisest course of action would be to treat his predicament like a survival situation, like when he was stuck on the island for a month. His first priority then had been food, water, and shelter, not exploring the flora and contemplating Teacher’s question. This was no different. He was in a strange and potentially hostile land with no way to get home and a problem so huge that literally God asked Ed to solve it for him. Right now, he should be focused on getting settled in while things are seemingly peaceful. Then he could start thinking about how to do whatever it was he was here for.

 

“Stupid piece of crap…” muttered a voice from behind him. Ed turned around to see a man kneeling in front of the back wheel of his car. “Damn it! I forgot to replace my spare… How the hell am I gonna make it home in time?”

 

“I can give you a hand with that,” Ed called, pulling off his jacket and tying it around his waist.

 

“You got duct tape or something?” the man asked, stepping back.

 

“Don’t need it,” smirked Ed, cracking his knuckles before getting on one knee. Whatever the hell ‘duct tape’ was, there was no way it was better than good, old-fashioned alchemy. He pressed both hands together and then pressed it on the wheel, feeling the rubber and sealing the hole inside it. The hunk of metal that had caused the issue was spat out onto the street, and Ed was quick to seal it into the street to prevent a future problem.

 

“Woah…” said the man.

 

“It still needs air, do you need a pump?” asked Ed.

 

“Nah, I’ve got a compressor in the trunk,” said the man, “Just… be careful. That’s some Quirk you’ve got, but you know it’s against the law to use it without a license.”

 

“...Right,” said Ed, unsure what a Quirk was. Had these people never heard of alchemy before? But if that was the case… 

 

Well…

 

A plan was beginning to form in his mind.

 

“Say, would you mind doing me a favor?” he asked, “I was looking for the scrapyard but somehow I got turned around. Any idea where the nearest one is?”

 

The man pulled out a small, black rectangle, causing Ed to raise an eyebrow, but he could barely hide his surprise when it lit up and quickly a map of the town was revealed. Boy, he’d really need to read up on the latest technology when he had free time. The man typed something into the rectangle, and soon a route appeared. 

 

“You really got turned around,” the man commented, “It’s a mile and a half to the south. Make a right on tenth street and you can’t miss it.”

 

“Thanks,” said Ed, saluting the man as he began to walk south. Questions began to firm in his mind about the implications of that man not realizing he was using alchemy, but he suppressed them as he continued to walk. Eventually, he reached the scrapyard he had been directed to, a somewhat isolated place right underneath a massive road with a dusty sign that said ‘HATSUME SCRAP AND USED APPLIANCES’ .

 

“Hey there!” he called, waving at the man disassembling a car in the back. He was lean and muscular, at least six feet tall with stubble and pink hair tied back in a bun, with a grease-stained tank-top and torn jeans.

 

“What can I do for ya?” the man, presumably Hatsume, asked, wiping the oil of his hands.

 

“You buy scrap, right?” Ed asked. The man nodded. “What, um… what kind of scrap would you pay the most for?”

 

“...Suppose it depends on what you mean by most,” he shrugged, “Are we talking total or per kilo?"

 

“Per kilo,” said Ed.

 

“Anything with copper in it,” said the man, grabbing a wrench and returning to the car, “Pipes, wire, whatever. Going rate is 650 yen per pound. But if you’re looking for good, quick pocket money, try checking out Takoba Municipal Beach. Tons of trash washes up on the shore. If you can haul over any appliances in a reasonable enough condition, I’ll pay good money for it.”

 

“You got cash on-hand?” Ed asked. Again, the man nodded. “Alright. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

 

With that, Ed left the junkyard, a smile on his face. This would be too easy. Perhaps not as easy as transmuting a bar of gold, but that was a taboo, and even if he wasn’t in Amestris, it could draw too much attention if he was casually creating gold. He ducked into an alley across the street, cracked his knuckles, and prepared to get to work. The first thing he did was make a cart. It was nothing fancy or anything, just the concrete reformed with a small, black handle. Next up came the copper. Transmuting the stone beneath his feet into copper was a bit of a complicated process, but Ed wasn’t called Full Metal for nothing. This was his specialty. He formed out a long and hollow pole with holes at both ends. The man asked for pipes, right? He piled on one, then another, then another, until he had around twenty pounds of copper pipes stacked on his wagon.

 

“...Holy shit,” said Hatsume, as Ed dragged it back through the gates of the junkyard, “You sure work quick. What the hell did you do, rob a hardware store or somethin’?”

 

“What’s it to you?” asked Ed, “Copper is copper, right? I think you owe me 13000 yen.”

 

“C’mon, kid, do you think I’m an idiot?” asked Hatsume, “I can’t buy stolen copper. I’m trying to run a business here. Now scram before I call the cops!”

 

“It’s not stolen!” yelled Ed.

 

“Then where the hell did some kid get that much copper in five minutes?” asked Hatsume.

 

“...I made it,” admitted Ed.

 

“...You made it,” Hatsume repeated, “What, is that your Quirk or somethin’? Turning crap into copper?”

 

“If… If I show you, do you promise not to tell anyone?” asked Ed. Hatsume nodded, and so he took a deep breath, pressed his hands together, and held up one of the pipes, turning it to stone.

 

“Jesus…” muttered Hatsume, “That’s some Quirk. What’s it called?”

 

“...Equivalent Exchange,” said Ed, “I can edit and reshape matter down to its atomic level.”

 

“And you’re using this power to get petty cash from a scrap dealer,” said Hatsume.

 

“Look, do you want the copper or not!?” yelled Ed, stamping his foot on the ground.

 

“I’ll take it,” said Hatsume, pulling a wad of bills from his wallet, “That’s, what, twenty pounds of copper? I’ll pay 13000 for it. And, hey, if you want to do business again, do me a favor and just make bars, alright? It’ll save me a whole lotta time smelting it down.”

 

“Whatever you say,” shrugged Ed, taking the wad of bills.

 

“Does your mother know you’re doing this?” Hatsume asked. 

 

Ed frowned and just walked away. 

Chapter 2: Exploration

Summary:

Ed continues to explore this strange new world he finds himself in.

Notes:

Wow, the response from that first chapter was insane. I'm so glad so many people seemed to be really excited for what I have cooking.

13000 yen. Ed didn’t exactly have a frame of reference for how much money that actually was in this time and country, but he had to imagine it wasn’t exactly pocket change, considering how much copper he just sold him. That should be at least a few days of food taken care of. 

 

Now all he needed to do was figure out a place to stay. Ed was no stranger to sleeping in the middle of the woods, but he imagined that if he was going to figure out what the hell was wrong with this place, he’d need to stay close to civilization in the long run. Ideally, it would still be a bit isolated. It’s not like Ed had any papers. That might complicate acquiring, how shall we say… legitimate housing. Plus, if the problem this time faced was anything like what his time faced, it would be valuable to have a base of operations that the government couldn’t easily locate.

 

Hmm…

 

Hatsume mentioned a beach that was overrun with trash. Could that be the same beach he had woken up on? That might be perfect. It wouldn’t smell great, but it was in the city while still being nice and private. Plus, it would be kind of cool to have all those appliances around to mess with. Ed was no gearhead like Winry, but he liked knowing how things worked. One of his most impressive alchemy tricks was repairing smashed radios, and it would be nice to know how to do something similar with the technology here.

 

It took only a few minutes to make it back to the beach, and it took a few more to find the perfectly placed pile of trash, right on the edge of the dump. One quite complicated transmutation later, and a square hut of alumina, silica, hydrogen dioxide, and a few other compounds that all combined to form what humans had dubbed clay, replaced it. What trash he hadn’t directly transmuted had instead been fused into the outside of the hut to make it blend in with its surroundings, but if you grabbed the metal bar conspicuously sticking out of the front and pulled, the door would swing open.

 

The inside was fairly simple. Just one room, with a few slits in the ceiling for ventilation. Clay was a good insulator, and it was decently cold outside, but he might die of the stench if there was no ventilation.. Furniture could come later. He was sure he’d end up transmuting a mattress for himself in time, but transmuting organic substances was a very annoying process, and he was already pretty tired from all the alchemy he had done since arriving here. He didn’t want to spend the next half an hour trying to spin sand into cotton, not before getting a good meal, at least.

 

After checking to make sure nothing had gone horribly wrong, Ed determined he ought to try and find a market and buy some food before the sun set. After a bit of searching, he stumbled upon a building with shelves of apples and pears sitting on the outside, and so he approached the door, pausing as it swung open ahead of him, only to realize it had somehow opened on its own.

 

“Holy crap…” he muttered, as he felt the waves of cool air from the produce section. Curious, he picked up a head of lettuce. It was cold to the touch. Technology like this must make life here immensely convenient. It was impossible to contain the look of awe and wonder on his face as he practically ran through the grocery store. Everything seemed to come in individually sealed containers, made out of some strange material he didn’t immediately recognize. This store had every food the heart could want. It made the so-called general stores of his time look paltry by comparison. From the standard foodstuffs familiar to him to raw meat and fresh fish to wine and beer to items that were exotic luxuries in his time, like foreign fruits, it had everything. 

 

Unfortunately, he didn’t have the money to blow in this strange store. Ed restrained himself to purchasing cheap cuts of beef (still bafflingly cheap compared to what it would have cost him in his time if he were to compare it to more familiar items like potatoes and milk), some potatoes, and a truly monstrous bag of some grain called rice. According to the instructions on the back, it was supposed to be boiled, and then the food would be served on top. It seemed to be quite a good bang for his buck and easy to make for a complete amateur like him, whose cooking experience consisted of roasting fish and rabbits on an open flame. He did, however, splurge on one luxury: a cardboard box that said ‘Golden Curry.’ Ed had no idea what the hell a curry was, but it looked like some stew served over rice, so he figured that with his other ingredients, it would make a nice meal.

 

The cashier used another piece of strange technology that shot a red light at his groceries before putting four of his 1000 yen bills in what he assumed was a cash register that had the same screen as that black rectangle. With his potatoes, beef, and curry in a bag made of a strange material and the rice slung over his shoulder, he returned to his new home. He transmuted himself a basic pot, and then formed some of the sand into a fire pit with grates to set it on. 

 

Next step: potatoes. He filled the pot with water before filtering out all the salt and impurities with alchemy before attempting to transmute his arm into a blade, forgetting that his auto-mail was gone. Slightly embarrassed, he found a hunk of scrap metal that he turned into a kitchen knife, cutting the potatoes into chunks, which he then threw into the pot. A clump of sand was easily transmuted into carbon that was then scattered underneath the grates. Some more scrap was turned into a steel rod, and some sand was made into a flint. A moment later, the carbon was burning, and the water quickly began to boil.

 

As the water bubbled away and the cell walls of the potatoes slowly began to break down, Ed sat on the beach, watching the sunset. The last time he cooked on a beach like this was during his training, when Teacher had left him stranded on that island. Al had been by his side then. Now he had no one. He had come so far since then as an alchemist and a fighter, his knowledge of the world had grown exponentially since he was first asked to contemplate what ‘one is all, all is one’ meant.

 

It was almost funny. Despite how far he had come, he was so much weaker and dumber now than back then. Humans were like ants. Alone, they were nothing, but together? Together, they could accomplish the astonishing. No matter how skilled an alchemist he had become, Ed would always be weaker by himself than he was with his friends by his side. And he was dumb enough to throw them away! To accept this stupid job from Truth all alone!

 

It didn’t take long for his curry to be finished. The rice was a tad mushy, but it was still quite good. Still, he didn’t bother to savor it. Ed scarfed down the meal before transmuting his fireplace back to sand and bringing his equipment into his makeshift shelter along with the remaining rice. He curled up on the sand and tried his best to fall asleep, resolved that tomorrow, he would figure out what the hell he was doing here.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” said Ed, approaching the woman with short, black hair sitting at the desk by the entrance to the library, “Could you tell me where the books on Quirks are?”

 

“Sure,” she nodded, “They’re in the biology section, on the second floor. Are you doing research for a school project?”

 

“Something like that,” said Ed.

 

“Are you a member of our library?” she asked.

 

“Um… no,” he said, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. He was so used to being able to flash his state alchemist’s pocket watch around that he forgot how expensive books could be. Of course, they’d want to charge people to use them! “Do I need one to look at the books?”

 

“You’re fine,” she said, “You just can’t check any out without one. Would you like to sign up for a card?”

 

“I, um… I don’t have a lot of money,” he said.

 

“Oh, don’t worry!” the librarian smiled, “It’s free. I just need your name, address, and your parents’ permission.”

 

“Um… I’ll pass for now,” muttered Ed.

 

The librarian gave him a strange look, not unlike the one the man in the armor gave him yesterday. “Alright,” she said, scribbling on a piece of paper, “If you want to use our computers, here’s the guest sign-on.”

“Computers?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Yeah, they’re scattered around the place,” she said, handing him the slip, “But there’s an hour limit.”

 

“...Thanks,” said Ed, accepting the slip of paper. 

 

He made his way up a flight of stairs and began searching through the aisles, until he found what he was looking for. A History of Human Evolution: The Rise of Homeo-Qurikus by Kyudai Garaki. This seemed like it would be a good start. He grabbed the book and made his way over to one of the desks, where there was a box made out of the same carbon-based material with a glass screen, as well as a smaller device conected to it by a wire lying on a black mat along with what looked like the keys of a typewriter. Curious, he pushed one of the buttons on the box, and recoiled when the screen lit up. 

 

Please Enter Login Information , it said, as two white bars appeared on the screen. Ed opened the slip of paper and typed in GUEST , which was listed as the account, and MTFLIBRARY , which was listed as the password. The screen was immediately replaced by a rotating circle and the words LOGGING IN , which was then followed by a light blue background with a white arrow in the center, and a few… icons would probably be the best word to describe them.  There were two specifically, one that said settings, and another that said INTERNET BROWSER.

 

“What the hell is an internet?” he mumbled, grabbing the device that had was connected to the machine by a wire. The second he touched it, the arrow in the center moved. His curiosity had been well and truly piqued. What was this machine? How did it work? What did it do? He grabbed the device and navigated the arrow over to the icon that said INTERNET BROWSER , and the arrow was replaced with a hand that had a finger extended, but nothing else happened.

 

“Hmm…” he muttered, staring at the device. There was a rubbery circle in the center, and on each side, there was…

 

Well, it was hard to describe. They weren’t exactly buttons, but they had give to them, and it seemed to be intentional. Now came the question: left or right? 

 

“Einie… Minie…” he muttered, “Left.”

 

The… whatever it was clicked as he pressed down on it, and the blue background was replaced by an all white screen, with the word ‘GIGGLE’ in different colors in the center. There was also a white bar on the top of the screen, with the text ‘Search Giggle or type URL.’ What the hell was URL? Whelp, if that was the instructions, he typed the letters U, R, and L into the bar. Nothing happened. He clicked around, but again, nothing happened. Finally, he just banged his fist on the keyboard, and suddenly, the white page was replaced by rows of text, the top of which said ‘Interpedia’ in blue.

 

‘ A uniform resource locator ( URL ), colloquially known as an address on the Web, [1] is a reference to a resource… ’

 

Was… What was this? He clicked on the blue text, and it redirected him to a new screen.

 

‘A uniform resource locator ( URL ), colloquially known as an address on the Web, [1] is a reference to a resource that specifies its location on a computer network and a mechanism for retrieving it. A URL is a specific type of Uniform Resource Identifier (URI), [2] [3] although many people use the two terms interchangeably. [4] [a] URLs occur most commonly to reference web pages (HTTP/HTTPS) but are also used for file transfer (FTP), email (mailto), database access (JDBC), and many other applications.’

 

What… WHAT THE HELL DID ANY OF THIS MEAN? Ed liked to think he was pretty up to date on all the most recent sciences of his world, and he was entirely lost! What was a computer network? What was an email? What was the web!? 

 

Ed cracked his neck and his knuckles before grabbing the device.

 

He had a lot of research to do.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

Garaki’s book sat unread by his side for the entire hour, until the computer screen finally turned black. He hadn’t done any of the research he was here to do. The rabbit hole went too deep. One hyperlink (which is what that blue text was called) led to another. He read all about Turing and Cerf, and Berners-Lee. Binary and transistors, and IPs. This time period he lived in apparently had the sum of all the world’s information at their fingertips. The capacity to reach anyone, anywhere, through massive machines they launched into space. How the hell could things be so messed up that Truth felt the need to send him here?

 

Not all of his research was related to technology. For one, he learned that this country was called Japan. It was ruled by an Emperor, but he was apparently a powerless figurehead. This had once been a warlike country, but it had been centuries since the last foreign war. He took some comfort in that. Perhaps Amestris could follow a similar course, and hopefully without the tragedy of Hiroshima and Nagasaki to prompt it.

 

This was also a time where everyone had some… power. People called them Quirks, and they were entirely a result of genetics, according to their best scientists. Some of them gave you control of the elements, and others turned you into what he would call a chimera in his time.

 

Or… in his world. Because he was fairly certain he was not on his Earth. The people here had scoured every mile of land on the globe, and they knew of no Amestris. No Xing, no Drachma, no Areugo or Creta. This was an entirely new Earth, and Ed couldn’t fully comprehend the implications of that, too overwhelmed by all the other information he had learned. 

 

Getting up from the table, Ed returned to the librarian’s desk with Garaki’s book in hand. “Hi there,” he said, “Do you know where I could find books on computer repair?”

 

“Same floor, aisle twelve,” said the librarian, stamping a book, “All our non-fiction is up there.”

 

“Thanks,” said Ed, “I ran out of time on the computer. by the way, can I pay for more?”

 

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” said the librarian, “You can just log back in and it’ll be fine and dandy.”

 

“Cool, and is there any paper I can borrow?” he asked.

 

“Grab some from the printer,” she said, gesturing to the large machine in the corner with one hand and handing him a pencil with the other. “By the way… the community rec center is just down the corner. There’s… There’s a free gym there and, um… they’ve got showers if you need ‘em.”

 

“Uh… I appreciate the information,” he said, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. He supposed it was only natural that he smelled bad, he did sleep in what was basically a trash dump. Ed would check them out once he was done in here. He climbed back up to the second floor and went searching for books on computer repair, quickly devouring it in half an hour while only having to look up a few terms on the internet. With detailed notes on a few sheets of paper, he finally turned to his reason for coming here and opened Garaki’s book.

 

After another hour of reading, Ed found himself better understanding aspects of human biology, but he was no closer to understanding what the problem he was here to solve was. This world followed the same laws as his own; otherwise, his alchemy wouldn’t work, but it appeared that these people hadn’t made that leap. Something like that wasn’t entirely unprecedented. The people of Amestris and Xing hadn’t learned alchemy until Father and… well… his father had taught it to them. Maybe this was just a realm where humans never made that leap, or perhaps they had, but whatever civilization invented it died out before passing the art onto another.

 

Uch. Why couldn’t Truth have just told him what it wanted? Why was it all puzzles and mind games? How long did it expect him to sit around, twiddling his thumbs, until whatever was wrong revealed itself?

 

Ed wasn’t going to fall into that trap. He knew firsthand how evil could fester if not attacked head-on. He would seek whatever it was that Truth wanted him to find; there would be no sitting around and waiting for it to arrive.

 

Well…

 

That was easier said than done. He wasn’t Hohenheim, he couldn’t wander the world for a thousand years before fulfilling his purpose. Ed had no idea what he was looking for. Was it even a what? Could it be a who? Truth had been light on details.

 

He glanced around the library, making sure he was alone, before closing his eyes and trying to meditate. There was something peculiar about this land. He could draw power from the earth’s energy like he did back in Amestris, but there was also a power that permeated the air. It felt like… a part of the earth had been moved there, somehow. Hmm. He wished May Chang or Ling were here. They both recognized what was odd about Amestris, the presence of Father deep underground. They both would know in a heartbeat what was wrong.

 

Now slightly frustrated at the lack of progress, Ed made his way out of the library and began to walk down toward the ‘rec center,’ whatever that was supposed to be. A hot shower would do him well. It had been a few weeks since he had that luxury. 

Notes:

So... Yeah, I decided I'm gonna stick with this. I've written the first ten chapters already in only a week or so. I'll be uploading for this on Sundays. The Spider-Verse fic will be Saturdays, the Noir fic will be Tuesdays, and Bat-Zuku will be Thursdays. Expect 3kish word chapters in general. I really appreciated the positive response this fic got, I'd love to talk to you all in the comments or on Discord or whatever. Huge thanks to anyone who left a comment or kudos. I know it's a bit unhealthy to write with any expectations of feedback, but it's really encouraging to know I'm not just posting this into the void.

Now, onto plot stuff. This chapter was mostly just set-up, showing Edward trying to get settled into this new world. I don't think there was anything particularly notable (although I hope it was at least entertaining), but it won't be long before we really start getting into the meat of this story. At the rate I'm going, I could see this fic easily going to thirty or forty chapters, maybe even fifty.

Chapter 3: A Helping Hand

Notes:

Sorry for no update last week, I've been super busy with the end of the semester.

Himiko Toga wandered aimlessly through whatever city she had now found herself in. Mom and Dad had kicked her out of the house a few days ago. They had heard the rumors. The counseling hadn’t worked. Sh e… She had seen him walking home from school a few days ago and couldn’t control herself. Saito was still alive, as far as she knew, but he would be in the hospital for quite a while. After that … she had just gotten on a train to God knows where.

 

“Hey, you!” called a voice from the alley. Uh oh. That couldn’t be good. Himiko turned to see a man twice her size approaching her with a knife in hand. “Hand over your wallet!”

 

“I–I–I–” she stuttered, stepping back.

 

“C’mon now, I’m not lookin’ to hurt ya,” he said, smiling a toothy grin, “Not yet at least.”

 

“Hey, you!” called a voice from behind her, “Leave her alone!”

 

“Tsk, what are you gonna do about it, pipsqueak?” the man scoffed.

 

“PIPSQUEAK!?” the voice yelled. CLAP . “I’LL SHOW YOU WHO’S A PIPSQUEAK!”

 

Himiko turned around just in time to catch the flash of lightning, and a second later, the short, blond kid in the red coat rushed past her, metal staff in hand. He easily knocked the knife out of the mugger’s hand, before ducking through his legs and whacking him across the head.

 

“Are you alright?” the kid asked. Still a little stunned by what just happened, Himiko nodded. “We should probably call the police. Do you have a phone?” She shook her head. “Hmm… Neither do I. Well…” He pressed his hands together. “He won’t be going anywhere.” The kid pressed one hand against the wall and grabbed the mugger’s arm with the other, before pushing the mugger’s hand through the wall as if it wasn’t even there.

 

“Thanks,” Himiko muttered, staring down at the mugger’s bloody nose.

 

“No problem!” the kid smiled, giving her a thumbs up, “Big, dumb, and ugly here was nothing special.”

 

“Um… Are you sure you should be doing this?” asked Himiko. “How old are you?”

 

“I’m sixteen!” yelled the kid, his smile turning into an angry frown. Himiko just raised an eyebrow. “Ah, shut up! Are you really calling the guy who saved your life short?! Tsk, I’m going home!”

 

“Wait!” she called. The … well, it wasn’t really appropriate to call him ‘kid’ anymore, but he froze misstep. “Who are you?”

 

“Call me Ed,” he said, “Edward Elric.”

 

______________________________________________________________________

 

Someone once told Edward that cleanliness was next to godliness.

 

As someone who had met God, he had to disagree. There were quite a few things in between godliness and cleanliness if you asked him. Cruelty and vagueness were definitely closer.

 

There was still a comfort Ed took in cleanliness that he rarely got to experience with his nomadic existence. A warm shower was generally low on his priority list when he was on a train or camping in the woods every other day. Cleaning himself, i t… it made him feel pure in a way. That was a rare sensation for him, whose body had been defiled at such a young age. So he especially appreciated this time period’s dedication to the principle that they would allow vagrants like him to take a warm shower free of charge. Then again, it’s not like the practice was entirely benevolent. Ed would enjoy not feeling dirty, but everyone else would also enjoy not smelling him.

 

Despite that, there was still another comfort he took in getting his hands dirty. Beating up that mugger had been the biggest release of his built-up frustration since he first arrived in this world. He hoped that girl was alright. Her clothes were getting worn out and her face was dirty. Ed was suspicious that she might be homeless, and she wouldn’t have the advantage of being able to transmute herself a shelter.

 

He had walked a few blocks away from her before stopping. Could he really leave her alone to face the elements? It probably wasn’t any of his business. He didn’t actually know if she was homeless or not. Maybe she was just, well … poor. It’s not like she was wearing literal rags or anything. Besides, he had bigger fish to fry. He still hadn’t figured out what the Truth wanted from him.

 

…W hat was he saying?! Ed slapped himself across the face before turning back around. Had he not learned anything this entire time? The problems of the world were decidedly not greater than the problems of just one person, he knew that better than most. There was no way he could turn his back on someone who might need him, even if he could claim plausible ignorance.

 

He found the girl sitting on the ground in an alley a few streets back. She looked up at him, her eyes full of curiosity and fear, but didn’t move as he sat down across from her.

 

“Did you run away from home?” he asked bluntly. She raised an eyebrow. “I’m not going to call anyone. Hell, I don’t even know who to call. I’m in, well … basically the same boat. I live in a shack down by the beach.”

 

“…What gave it away?” the girl asked.

 

“C‘mon, you didn’t exactly hide it,” he said, gesturing to her clothes, “I’ve got food, though, if you’re hungry.”

 

Her stomach growled. “Fine,” she said, pulling out the mugger’s knife, “But if you try anything, I’ll gut you.”

 

“Fair enough,” said Ed, helping her to her feet, “What’s your name?”

 

“Himiko,” she said, “Himiko Toga.”

 

______________________________________________________________________

 

“Woah…” Himiko muttered as he opened the door to his little clay hut, “How long have you been on the streets?”

 

“A few years,” Ed said, the answer somewhere in between a truth and a lie. 

 

He was technically homeless, although he would always have a warm bed and meal at the Rockbell’s house. And even if he was technically an itinerant, he was quite a wealthy one. There was a state research account with more money than he knew what to do with. He could always afford a stay in a hotel or dinner at a restaurant. But not every town had a hotel, and sometimes he would get to town after they closed. There were more than a few nights where whether or not he ate depended on the generosity of strangers or his ability to catch himself a juicy rabbit or fish to cook. He couldn’t count the number of nights he went to bed hungrier than he would prefer, sleeping on the hard ground under the stars.

 

Of course, that was only thanks to his alchemy. He had built quite a few makeshift structures like this before, and he could transmute a fishing spear or animal trap in his sleep. Plus, it meant he didn’t need to worry about muggers and criminals like the girl probably did. He also always had Alphonse by his side. No matter what trials and tribulations he faced on his journey, he almost never had to deal with loneliness.

 

Right, he had promised her some food. Ed grabbed his sack of rice and pot before stepping through the door. He easily recreated his firepit, filled the pot with alchemically purified water, and waited for it to boil, all while Himiko watched in silent suspicion.

 

“Your sweater has a tear in it,” Ed observed, as he poured the rice into the pot, “Do you want me to fix it?”

 

“…Ok,” she said, “But do it quickly.”

 

“It’ll literally take two seconds,” he smirked, pressing his hands together before placing on her sleeves and willing the fibers to reconnect, easily patching the hole. For good measure, he also separated the dirt and grime that had built up, which blew away in the wind.

 

Hu h…

 

As his alchemy spread across her torso, Ed couldn’t help noticing the strange energy contained within her. There was something familiar about it, something … sinister.

 

“You’re lucky you have a Quirk like that,” Himiko bemoaned, sitting down across from him on the opposite side of the fire.

 

“It comes in handy,” Ed acknowledged, “How about you? What’s your Quirk?”

 

“…I don’t want to talk about it,” said Himiko.

 

“Alright,” shrugged Ed, poking at the fire with a stick. “Do you mind me asking how you ended up out here?”

 

“I… I got into a fight with my parents,” she admitted , “ They called me a monster. How about you?”

 

“I… I guess I had the opposite problem,” said Ed, “My mother died a few years ago, and my father, he… he was a deadbeat. Now I’m out here.”

 

They sat in silence until, finally, the rice finished boiling, and Ed began to prepare the curry. It didn’t take long for either to finish their food. Ed already had a massive appetite in general , and Himiko hadn’t eaten in a few days. 

 

“I’ll, um… I don’t know what your plan is or if you even have one,” said Ed, transmuting the fireplace back into the sand, “But I’ll be around if you need help. You know how to get in if I’m not here and it’s raining or something . If I’m not here, I’ll probably be at the library or something .”

 

“You shouldn’t be so kind to me,” Himiko muttered, “My parents… they weren’t wrong.”

 

“We’ve all made mistakes,” said Ed, feeling an ache in his metal leg. “I won’t hold yours against you if you don’t hold mine against me. Deal?”

 

“…Deal,” said Himiko, shaking his hand before allowing herself to be pulled to her feet, “Thanks for the curry.”

 

“No problem,” said Ed, watching as she walked back toward the city.

 

Now with some relative privacy, Ed turned to the massive pile of trash outside his ‘home.’ It only took a few minutes of searching until he found what he was looking for: a small metal box with a steel exterior and a small lever on the outside. He pried off the exterior shell of the toaster and began to examine its guts.

 

“Let’s see how you work,” he muttered, as the sun set over the beach.

______________________________________________________________________

 

“Morning, Hatsume!” called a familiar voice from the edge of the junkyard. Yuichi set down his wrench and turned around to see a familiar head of blond hair approaching him with a beat-up toaster in hand . “Watch this!”

 

The kid set the toaster down in front of him , before pressing his hands together and activating his Quirk , and in a flash of blue light, the dents of the toaster were removed.

 

“Did you just…” Yuichi muttered.

 

The kid nodded. “Try it for yourself,” he said confidently.

 

Curious, Yuichi picked up the toaster and brought it to the nearest outlet, plugging it in and turning it on. The heating element activated, and after a few minutes, it popped.

 

“Not bad,” said Yuichi, “I’ll give you 1500 yen for it.”

 

“Fine,” said the kid, “But I want to make a deal with you. Something long-term. That beach is full of appliances. I can bring you tons of ‘em. I could probably even replicate some out of scrap metal with enough practice. How about we split the profits instead of you buying from me?”

 

“Why the hell would you want that, kid?” said Yuichi , raising an eyebrow , “Take my advice , money now is always better than the chance at money later.”

 

“If I needed short-term cash, I’d come by with more copper,” said the kid, “I need income, not money.”

 

“Sorry, kid, no dice,” said Yuichi.

 

“Are you really gonna throw away this deal over slightly reduced profits !? ” said the kid , “ You don’t have to do anything! I’m doing all the work! Maybe I’ll just take my business to a pawn shop!”

 

“Best of luck to you,” shrugged Yuichi, “But this isn’t about money, kid. It’s about plausible deniability. If you’re just some kid I buy stuff from, we don’t know each other. I don’t know you’re illegally using your Quirk. But if we’re splitting profits, we’re partners. I’ve got family. I’m not going to risk it for a few refurbished toasters.”

 

“… Ok ,” said the kid, “I’ll keep coming here and you can just buy it from me. But I have one condition. If you get any computer parts, save them for me.”

 

“Sounds good,” he said, “I can stop by wherever you wanna meet with my truck so you don’t have to shlep over here next time.”

 

“Just meet me by Takoba Beach,” said the kid.

 

“Ok,” said Yuichi, “What’s your name, by the way?”

 

“Edward,” he said, “Just call me Ed.”

 

“Do your parents know what you’re doing, Ed?” asked Yuichi, pulling out a cigarette. “Makes no difference to me either way , I just need to know if I’ve gotta be prepared to get chewed out by more angry blonds.”

 

“They won’t be a problem,” said Ed.

 

“Alright then,” said Yuichi, “Give me a call when you need me to pick stuff up.”

 

“…Got it,” said Ed. 

 

Yuichi sighed, taking a drag on his cigarette as he watched the short, blond kid walk through the gates of his junkyard. Edward wasn’t the first kid to show up at his place of work with a pile of scraps looking for money to buy himself dinner, but he was certainly the strangest. For one, he was certainly the first person he was actually making a profit on. Usually, he more or less broke even, but Edward actually had the potential of making him some money. Nothing crazy, mind you. There was only so much of a potential profit margin in refurbished appliances. The toaster he had just bought would probably go for 4000 yen if he was lucky . That’s half of why Yuichi turned him down , splitting the profit wouldn’t actually be better for him. Even if it was slightly more money, a bird in hand was better than two in the bush.

 

Of course, there was no way Yuichi would let him know that. This kid was almost in a bad spot. He hadn’t confirmed that his parents were ok with this, but hadn’t said they weren’t. That had to mean either they were neglectful or not in the picture. And considering how he had the voice of a 16-year-old but couldn’t be more than 150 centimeters tall and built lean, he had to assume it was the latter and the kid was malnourished. Yuichi hadn’t been a kid like that, but he knew plenty of them growing up. Kids like them … they were proud, and they needed a sense of control over their lives. So he’d pretend he was making his offer out of self-interest, rather than scaring him off with the offer of charity.

 

“Hey, Yuichi!” called Mei, rushing out of the workshop, “I’m heading to the hardware store! Don’t wait up!”

 

“Be home before–” he began, only for his sister to rush out of view before he could finish. 

 

God, she was a carbon copy of Dad, only with Mom’s passion for building stuff. He was going to have to build another shed to hold her inventions if she kept this up. Maybe the kid would be able to lend a hand. That was some Quirk he had. To be able to edit matter at a subatomic leve l… It was the engineer’s dream. God help him if Mei ever found out what he was capable of; he’d be transmuting probably illegal amounts of uranium for the rest of his life if she had her way with him. Yuichi hoped whatever had forced him onto the streets would be over soon. With a power like that, he should be out there helping people, not wasting away in a cold alley.

 

Yuichi was taken out of his thoughts by a clinking from the rusty gate. A portly man in a black suit stepped through, the sun reflecting off his balding hands. He wore a sinister smile on his face that sent chills running down Yuichi’s spine.

 

“Afternoon, Yuichi,” called Kusumoto, “You know what I’m here for.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” sighed Yuichi, dropping his cigarette and stepping on it, “Your money’s in my office.”

 

The two made their way into the small building next to the workshop, and Yuichi unlocked the small safe in the corner, emptying out half of it and setting it down on the desk.

 

“Y’know, I wouldn’t have to do this if we weren’t friends,” said Kusumoto, giving an exaggerated sigh, “People on my side of the track always have a use for a mechanic who operates a cash-based business. We could make good money together. I’m sure your kid-sister needs it for school. Your mother and I–”

 

“Don’t talk about my mother,” spat Yuichi.

 

“Watch it, kid,” warned Kusumoto, “You’re like a nephew to me, so I’ll let that slide, but y’ain’t gonna like what’ll happen if you don’t watch your mouth.”

 

“You’ve got your money,” said Yuichi, “Are we done?”

 

“For now,” said Kusumoto, putting his hard-earned profits into his coat pocket, “You’ll come around one way or another, Yuichi. It hurts me to do this, you know. I hate seeing Emiko’s kids livin’ in a dump like this, sweatin’ away for peanuts. I wanna lend a helping hand. But if I cut you slack, that means I gotta do the same for everyone else in the neighborhood who’s the cousin or aunt or whatever for someone who works for me. But we take care of our own. If you’re one of us, you’re one of us. If you think I’m a bad guy, fine. If you think my money is blood money, you’re not wrong. But it’s gonna get collected by someone at the end of the day. The least you could do is take it and do something good with it. Send Mei to college. Buy an apartment that isn’t next to the dump. Give it to charity for all I care. Just take it.”

 

“I got work to do, Kusumoto,” said Yuichi, “Is that the end of your little speech?”

 

“Fine,” said Kusumoto, “But if you want me to leave, I at least want to hear you call me Uncle.”

 

“Fine, can you get the hell off my property, Uncle Kusumoto?” asked Yuichi, rolling his eyes.

 

“Sure, kid,” said Kusumoto, stepping through the door, “But if you want to start doing some real work, you know where to find me.”

Notes:

Friendship is magic :)

Chapter 4: Introspection

Summary:

Edward continues to try and discover what exactly is wrong with this world.

Notes:

Sorry for the late upload.

“Can I keep using the same login on the computers?” the short, blond kid asked, approaching the library desk.

 

“Yup,” Nobuko nodded, “Doing more research on Quirks? Or is it computers now?”

 

“It’s… complicated,” said the kid, “I guess you’d call it studying the human body.”

 

“Well… good luck with your project,” said the librarian, watching as the kid sat down at a table in the corner.

 

Nobuko hadn’t been a librarian for very long by the ‘industry standard’, only around six years, but she had seen more than her fair share of kids who had some kind of home problem, and this one was sending her a shocking number of red flags for someone she had only met yesterday. He had been hesitant to accept her offer of a membership after being told he needed an address and parental consent, and instead of asking her how much it cost, he asked if it had a cost. He also came in this morning not smelling like garbage, which implied that he followed up on her advice about the rec-center showers. That wasn’t even addressing his signs of chronic malnutrition. He wasn’t that skinny, but he was concerningly short for what she guessed was a fourteen-year-old boy.

 

It wasn’t so alarming that she was contemplating calling social services on the boy. He looked healthy, despite her concerns, and his clothes weren’t worn out. Plus, it was a Sunday. It was perfectly normal for him to spend nearly the entire day at the library, like he had yesterday. But she’d be keeping an eye on him. If he started sleeping in the library or if he came in wearing the same clothes day in and day out, she’d have to take some action.

 

Actually…

 

She almost forgot, she had something with her that would be perfect for a situation like this. Nobuko filed through her desk drawer until she found the black and white business card that read IDATEN OUTREACH . Some nice lady had dropped it off a while back. Their hero agency was trying to expand its outreach efforts with at-risk youth, ideally with a lighter touch than the often heavy-handed social services. Maybe she’d give them a call if he made her any more worried.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

Hmm. It looked like this universe had no idea what the hell a ‘Dragon’s Pulse’ was. That wasn’t entirely surprising. They considered alchemy to be a defunct proto-science practiced by charlatans. When he looked up a Philosopher’s Stone, all he found was a book series from a few hundred years ago about a wizard in a country called England. 

 

Guess he was going to have to figure this out for himself. Ever since he had first learned about alkahestry, Ed wanted to learn more about it, but this was no mere journey of self-edification for its own sake. Both Ling and May Chang had instantly grasped what was wrong with Amestris. They were able to sense both Father and the humunculi, and the Philosopher’s Stones contained within. Maybe if he could try and grasp what they saw in the world, he could feel what was wrong with this country.

 

It wouldn’t be easy. It probably wouldn’t have been if he had an actual tutor. And now he’d have to figure it out on his own with a very limited understanding of the subject matter.

 

Ed cracked his neck, then his knuckles, before re-arranging himself on his seat so his legs were crossed. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before releasing. The Dragon’s Pulse was an energy contained within him, but it also existed within the Earth. That’s what May Chang had told him. Ed searched for it. He did his best, focusing on his breathing and trying to feel his life force, with no results.

 

After maybe ten minutes of futile meditating, he pressed his hands together as if he were about to transmute something. There were those familiar blue sparks, but there was no change in matter. He simply maintained this flow of energy. Ed could feel the energy of the Earth flowing through his body, but he felt none of his own energy, and certainly didn’t feel anyone else’s like the Xingese people he knew.

 

Damn it! What was he missing? Ed had to have been one of the few people in the universe who had seen the truth and, well… the Truth. He probably knew more about the nature of being than all but a handful of people. Why couldn’t he understand this?

 

Taking a deep breath, Ed tried to refocus himself. One is all, all is one. He was a tiny, insignificant part of a greater whole, yet without his existence, that whole ceased to be. Perhaps it was his environment. This library, with its concrete walls and tile floor, was probably not an ideal place for understanding the natural flow of life. Edward got up from the table and made his way out to the small garden behind the library, sitting down on a bench right in front of a large bush. Again, he crossed his legs and tried to meditate, but again, he felt nothing but boredom.

 

That, and frustration. Ed was a scientist. He had dedicated his life to studying the nature of being. He worked in empiricism. Trial and error. Null and alternative hypotheses. This just felt like spiritual mumbo jumbo, yet what truly frustrated him was the fact that he knew it was legitimate. He had seen people utilize the Dragon’s Pulse with his own eyes, he knew it was real in some way, shape, or form. So why couldn’t he tap into it?

 

“Hmm,” muttered a voice next to him. Edward opened his eyes and looked toward it. There was a gardener, treating a bush that was clearly dead. “Roots got all messed up.”

 

Huh. Maybe…

 

Ed got up from his bench and approached the green space on the other side of the parking lot, right in front of his library. His jacket fell to the ground before he pulled off his shirt. Maybe he was like that bush. If he stuck with the metaphor for a moment, Ed had just been uprooted from his original garden, and instead of being tenderly re-buried in a new plot, he had essentially been tossed on the ground. If he wanted to understand this new ecosystem, he needed to firmly connect with it. 

 

With his torso exposed to the elements, Ed plopped himself down on the grass and stared up at the sun, brushing his hands on the grass as he focused on his breathing. He lay there for a minute, then two, until time began to lose its meaning to him. An ant crawled up his finger, but he didn’t react

 

There was definitely something different about this world. If he had to describe it, it was like something in the ground was instead permeating the air. The ground wasn’t absent of energy, he could feel it keenly with his hands pressed against the grass, it was just… different. It was light, while the air was heavy.

 

That lightness didn’t feel bad, mind you. It wasn’t light because something was missing; it was more like his world was bloated, while this one wasn’t. Rather, the air here felt bloated, contaminated by something sinister that he could only feel when he truly focused on it.

 

Taking a deep breath, Ed set the ant crawling on his finger onto the ground before clasping his hands together. He felt lighter too, like he had been bloated his whole life up until now. Despite his closed eyes, he could see the energy in the grass. It was faint, but it was there. Whether it was faint because the grass lacked vitality or his vision was simply impaired was beyond him, but he decided to act as though he was the problem and push forward, putting more and more mental energy into sensing its life force. The energy within that single blade grew brighter and brighter, but…

 

As he began to focus, he started to hear a whisper. As the Dragon’s Pulse became more and more visible to him, the whisper grew louder and louder. The whisper turned into a cry, which turned into a scream, which turned into a cacophony from not just the grass, but from all around him. He knew what that heavy bloat that he sensed in the air was. Agony. Pure, unfiltered agony. Ed tried his best to listen, to locate its source, yet he could only take so much. The pain became too much for him, and he quickly blacked out.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Are you alright!?” called a familiar voice from above him. 

 

“Uch… What happened?” asked Ed, rubbing his temples and opening his eyes.

 

“I don’t know,” said the librarian, leaning over him, “I heard something and came out to find you screaming bloody murder!”

 

“My head is killing me,” muttered Ed.

 

“Ooh, migraine?” the librarian asked. Ed nodded. It wasn’t a migraine, but that was an easier explanation than the truth. “Come inside and get some water.”

 

“Thanks,” said Ed, accepting her hand.

 

“You might want to put your shirt back on,” the lady observed.

 

“Oh, uh… sorry,” Ed stuttered, throwing his shirt back on and grabbing his jacket before following her to a drinking fountain. The cold water tasted like heaven on his tongue, but he stopped drinking as the librarian reached into her purse and pulled out a small container of the carbon polymer these people had dubbed plastics.

 

“Here,” she said, unscrewing the cap and dumping a few pills into her hand, “Take some IBprofun.”

 

“...Thanks,” said Ed, pretending he knew what the hell that was. He tossed the two pills into his mouth before taking a big sip of water and swallowing.

 

“Keep the bottle,” she said, slipping it into his coat pocket, “If you’ve got migraines, you should have some on you at all times.”

 

“I… I wouldn’t want to impose,” he muttered, the guilt of his lies weighing on him. Was he really going to let this nice lady give him her medicine? What if she needed it? If that was a specialized migraine cure that she had because she or a loved one had migraines, there was no way he could accept this.

 

“It’s fine,” she insisted, “I have a spare one at my desk.”

 

“If you say so,” shrugged Ed, slipping the bottle into his pocket.

 

“Feeling better?” she asked.

 

“A bit,” said Ed, rubbing his temples, “Thanks for the medicine.”

 

“Sure,” said the librarian, “Just let me know if you need anything else. But… if you don’t mind me asking, what were you doing out there?”

 

“Just taking a nap,” lied Edward, throwing his coat on.

 

“I see,” said the librarian, stroking her chin, “What’s your name, by the way?”

 

“Edward,” he said, “And you?”

 

“Saito,” said the librarian, “Nobuko Saito.”

 

“I’ve gotta get back to my project,” said Ed, walking back to the table he was working at.

 

“Are you sure?” said Nobuko, “Migraines are no joke. Maybe you should take it easy for a bit.”

 

“I can take it easy when I’m dead,” smirked Ed, “Seriously, though, I’m feeling much better. This IBprofun stuff works great.”

 

“...Alright,” said Nobuko.

 

So… That was weird. Ed sat down in front of a computer, crossed his legs, and began to think. What the hell was up with all that screaming? It was painful to even try and recall the memory, but he was pretty sure it was not just coming from the grass. It was practically surrounding him. It was like…

 

Like it permeated the air.

 

His eyes widened as he put two and two together. Something that was underground in Amestris instead was in the air. The air here was also full of agony. There was only one thing that was both full of agony and underground in Amestris, and it was the same thing that Ling and May Chang had both instantly noticed when arriving in Central City.

 

A Philosopher’s Stone. A huge one. Almost interwoven into the atmosphere. At least, that’s where he thought it was. He had sensed it coming from nowhere specific and everywhere at the same time. That had to be related to what Truth wanted from it. The Philosopher’s Stone was the one thing in the universe that could bypass the laws of nature, the one thing that could threaten Truth itself. He would admit, there was something satisfying about that, despite how the mere thought of a Stone existing in this world made his blood run cold. This being, this representation of the universe, was scared. 

 

It made sense, he supposed. It was a natural law of the universe that things sought to protect their own existence. Roses grew thorns to defend against rabbits trying to eat it. The rabbit burrowed to prevent the fox from killing its young. The fox hunted at night to escape eagles. The eagle builds its nest high to stop wolves from eating their eggs. The wolf was smart enough and fast enough to run from humans. Humans made clothes and tamed fire to save itself from the elements. If Truth was a representation of the natural laws of the universe, why should it be any different?

 

That, then, begged the question of what he was supposed to do about it. Alphonse told him that Doctor Marcoh had used alchemy to destroy Envy’s Philosopher’s Stone, and he had seen with his own eyes how Mustang had overwhelmed Lust’s, but in each case, Ed both lacked the knowledge to replicate their techniques and also had no idea how it would be applied in this context. If there was a physical stone, it would be easier, but Ed had sensed it coming from, well… everywhere. He couldn’t exactly set the air on fire. That would do more harm than good. 

 

He needed more information. That brief glimpse into the world of energy was insufficient for drawing conclusions. Ed took a deep breath, and mentally braced himself for the pain, focusing on the white and red haired woman in the blousy sweater examining a shelf as he closed his eyes. He could feel her life force, much stronger than that blade of grass but still faint. It would take a great deal of practice, he imagined, before he was able to casually see the Dragon’s Pulse without focusing on it like Ling and the Xingese could. The screaming still followed, but Ed was ready for it this time. He was patient, taking his time to tune out the screaming before deepening his focus. Yet still, eventually it became too great, and Ed was forced to break his focus before it overwhelmed him.

 

Hmm…

 

Maybe it was just a matter of building up the tolerance for it. Ed doubted that was the case, but he couldn’t think of a better idea. He’d keep practicing, at the very least hoping to get to a point where he could sense everyone in a room, regardless of if he knew whether or not they were there. 

 

But that was enough work for now. There was still research Ed needed to do. He’d like to know what the deal was with the people in strange costumes, and he still had to finish Garaki’s book.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

Heroes. They were called heroes. That was a bit grandiose if you asked him. But according to the web-site of the Hero Public Safety Commission, they were basically this universe’s opinion of State Alchemists, although there were a few key differences. For one, they were the only people legally allowed to use their Quirks. In Amestris, anyone who knew alchemy could use it, although he’d acknowledge that perhaps there would be more regulation if there were more alchemists. Alchemists were a fraction of a fraction of the population where he lived, while here, nearly everyone had a Quirk. 

 

Quirks and alchemy weren’t a direct parallel, of course. Alchemy was a science, skill, and art all in one. A Quirk was a muscle. You couldn’t be born an alchemist. He and Al were prodigies in the art, but it’s not like he would have spontaneously developed the ability to perform it the same way a person could develop a Quirk. Yet you also could not become a better alchemist through repeated practice. It was not a muscle that could be improved by breaking down the fiber and letting it rebuild. If you practiced the same transmutation over and over again, you might become marginally more efficient at that one specific transmutation, but the mere act of doing it did not make you better. If it was not accompanied by understanding what you were doing, you did not get better.

 

Alchemy was also a lot more theoretically versatile than Quirks. Most alchemists only specialized in one particular type of alchemy, Mustang being the prime example. Ed and Al were unique in their capacity to work with almost any material put in front of them, but anyone theoretically could do the same. He’d concede that it wasn’t entirely through talent. Versatility was much easier when one didn’t need to memorize transmutation circles like him. But when compared to Quirks that only did one thing, the average alchemist had a much higher potential than the average Quirk user. 

 

What he found himself most curious about was how exactly they had come to be. Garaki’s book claimed it was a spontaneous gene mutation, and all other scholarship seemed to confirm it. But while Ed was no biologist, he liked to think he had a decent understanding of how nature worked. It also seemed to defy the principles of survival of the fittest. From his understanding of the process, a creature was born with a genetic mutation which gave it a comparative advantage. That advantage made it easier for that creature to survive and breed and outcompete his less evolved peers. While these Quirk mutations might have made it easier for humans to survive in the wild, that was not necessarily true in the anthropocene. Being able to shoot fire out of your hands or having a lion mutation didn’t necessarily make it easier to earn a living wage in an office park or factory. The force of prejudice also wouldn’t have helped the Quirks. His admittedly limited understanding of this world’s history told him that the Quirks were widely discriminated against. Theoretically, this should have made it much harder for the Quirked to, well… survive and breed and outcompete their less evolved peers.

 

Perhaps in time these Homo-Quirkius, as Garaki dubbed them, would have become the dominant species, but evolution didn’t work like that. Evolution occurred over thousands and thousands of years. For one species to replace another in a few centuries would be quite remarkable. 

 

He found it a bit puzzling how people here felt the need to reign in their power. What would have happened to the people of his town if his Teacher hadn’t built that dam to prevent the river from flooding, fearing state persecution. Of course, Teacher was never the type to let a little thing like the law stop her from doing what was right, but there were plenty of non-State Alchemists who lived normal lives and practiced their art as more of a hobby who provided invaluable services to their communities. 

 

And why did they feel the need to wear such ridiculous costumes? Maybe it was an intentional deception. The State Alchemist was the dog of the military, and that was an undeniable reality of his world. Edward Elric was legally the equivalent of a major even if he didn’t use the title, and while he preferred civilian garb, nothing more than his silver watch confirming his position, Colonel Mustang and Major Armstrong both preferred their blue officer’s uniforms. If these heroes were also ‘dogs of the military,’ their love of that weird plastic fabric, aliases, and bright colors must have done the yeoman’s work of hiding that fact.

 

Then again, maybe it was also earnest. Maybe they did actually aspire to heroism, and those strange costumes were… some way of inspiring hope? When people saw him (er… when they saw Alphonse) and heard the name Fullmetal Alchemist, it often brought hope to people. 

 

Maybe, just maybe, they were the same.

Notes:

Wow, it's already been a month. The support I've got on this fic has been insane. I really appreciate everyone who's commented and left a kudos, talking to y'all is my favorite part of writing.

Chapter 5: True Power

Summary:

Ed gets reflective.

“Didn’t I tell you to call me, kid?” said Hatsume, as Ed dragged his cart through the gate of the junkyard.

 

“I lost my phone,” lied Ed, cracking his back as the mechanic examined his wares, “I fixed up a washing machine, two toasters, and these… hot air blowers.”

 

“You mean a hair dryer?” said Hatsume, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Uh… Yeah, that,” said Ed, scratching the back of his neck.

 

“I’ll give you 20,000 for the washing machine,” said Hatsume, “3000 for the toasters, and another 3000 for the hair dryers.”

 

“That much for the washing machine?” asked Ed, a bit incredulous.

 

“I’m not giving you any more, I’ll be lucky to get forty for it,” said Hatsume.

 

“I… I meant it in the opposite way,” said Ed.

 

“...Oh,” said Hatusme, “Word of advice, kid, if you’re gonna be in this business, do some market research. Washing machines are quick sellers. The difference between a 4000 yen refurbished toaster and a 10,000 yen new toaster is a lot smaller than a 40,000 yen used washing machine and a 100,000 yen new one. Your toasters might sit on my shelf for a few months before someone picks ‘em up, but that machine’ll be gone in a week.”

 

“Good to know,” said Ed. He had never really given business much thought before. An alchemist of his caliber wasn’t ludicrously wealthy by Amestrian standards, but he wouldn’t want for anything within reason. Perhaps he would have had to give it more thought if Truth had accepted his original bargain. 

 

“Shit…” muttered Hatsume, pulling out his cellphone, “Watch the shop for me, will you? I gotta take this. I’ll get you your money in a minute.”

 

“Take your time,” said Ed, sitting down on a bench as Hatsume walked into the small office. He did his best to sit quietly, but it only took a few minutes before he got up and began to stretch. Stretching soon turned into pacing, which soon turned into examining the rusted car that the mechanic was working on. 

 

Ed had a basic understanding of the principles by which a combustion engine functioned, but he had never really gotten to examine the guts of a car before. They were a luxury where he came from, only accessible to the business world and the military and economic elite. Technically, he was a part of the military elite and maybe could have gotten one, but he was on the dirt country roads too often, and the trains were too useful to warrant one’s use. Still, Ed was nothing if not fatally curious, and the open hood of this modern vehicle was too enticing an offer to not examine.

 

“Gah!” Ed cried, losing his balance as he leaned forward. A sharp pain ached through his left thigh, as his auto-mail leg began to twitch. Damn it! The sand must have messed with its internal mechanisms! Where the hell was he going to find an automail mechanic? Did they even have automail in Japan!?

 

“Yuichi, I’m heading to the store!” called a voice from behind, “I… Wait, you’re not Yuichi!”

 

“Uh… Yeah,” said Ed, clutching his mechanical knee as he turned to face the pink-haired girl, “I’m just here to sell some appliances I fixed up.”

 

“You did that?” said the girl, looking over his cart, “Not bad! Where’d you find ‘em?”

 

“The beach,” said Ed, rolling up his pant leg, “Takobah or something.”

 

“Huh…” she muttered, “No rusts or dents… What’s your secret!?”

 

“Just good, old-fashioned elbow grease,” he said, tapping his leg and trying to dislodge the sand.

 

“What. Is. That,” said the girl, a terrifying smile on her face.

 

“...My leg?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

 

“IT’S BEAUTIFUL!” she squealed, practically swatting his hand away to examine it, “What’s it made of!? Where’s the power source!? Where did you get it!?”

 

“A friend of mine made it,” he said, trying to keep his hands close to his chest. If this girl didn’t recognize automail, then the odds were it didn’t exist here, “I, uh… I’m not really sure how it’s powered.”

 

“You’re introducing me to your friend,” the girl declared, trying to pry open the plating.

 

“Would you stop that!?” he said, pushing her away, “It’s a delicate machine! Who the hell even are you!?”

 

“Mei Hatsume, future CEO of Hatsume Industries!” she declared, “Now who built this!?”

 

“She, uh… doesn’t live in Japan anymore,” Ed lied, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to try and get the sand out of it.”

 

“Try putting a plastic coating over it,” Mei suggested, “They’ve got polymers that are still breathable for exhaust but are thick enough to keep sand and dirt out.”

 

“...I’ll look into that,” said Ed, scratching his chin. 

 

Hmm… Maybe he could…

 

Ed pressed his hands together and then grabbed his leg. He could feel the few dozen grains of sand that had mucked up the gears. That was abnormal, but he wasn’t complaining about it. He could feel his alchemy was getting stronger. It had never been that precise before. Maybe it was all the hoping back and forth through the portal of truth or maybe it was the energy of the Philosopher’s Stone that he could feel all around him, but whatever the cause, it was significant. All it took was a thought, and those grains of sand were obliterated at a molecular level before being rearranged outside the leg, making it look as though he had simply pushed it out.

 

“If you ever need your leg looked at, bring it by sometime!” said Mei, rubbing her hands together greedily, “I’d love to get a peak and what makes it tick!”

 

“You’ll be my first call,” he said, pulling himself to his feet.

 

“Tell my brother I’m heading to pick up some glue!” said Mei, rushing off.

 

“...Will do,” he shrugged, despite the fact she was already too far away to hear him.

 

Gearheads. Of course they were a universal constant. He supposed it might be useful to let her take a look at it, though. Knowing his track record, it was only a matter of time until it became destroyed, and there was no Winry to call. If it came down to it, he might need to rebuild his leg from scratch, and while Ed was becoming increasingly handy, there was no way he’d be able to rebuild his entire leg. The only reason he was able to fix up the appliances of this universe was because the schematics were more or less publicly available on the internet. He’d have no such luxury with automail. The smart thing to do would be to take his leg apart in a controlled environment, figuring out the ins and outs of how it worked, so once something inevitably happened, he would be prepared.

 

God, he missed Winry. It was a weird feeling, missing her so much. Ed often went months without seeing or talking to her. Why should a few days here change things? He supposed it was the fact that they were truly separate for the first time in his life. For as long as he could remember, she was always a phone call away. If he was in trouble, she’d be on the first train to wherever he was.

 

A blush began to spread across his face at the thought of her. How could he have wasted so much time denying and ignoring how he truly felt? It seemed silly in retrospect. They had all lived their lives subject to a nation secretly controlled by a genocidal maniac, yet he was scared to tell her what he wanted. 

 

“SHUT THE HELL UP!” yelled a muffled voice from the office, “LEAVE ME ALONE!”

 

“Is everything alright?” asked Ed, as Yuichi Hatsume stepped out of the office.

 

“Yeah,” said Yuichi, clearly lying, “Here’s your 26,000 yen.”

 

“Thanks,” said Ed, taking the money. “Did you get any computer parts?”

 

“I gotta ask, kid, do you want those for academic or practical reasons?” said Yuichi. Ed just tilted his head to one side. “Are you trying to build a computer for personal use or to try and understand how they work?”

 

“Both, I guess,” said Ed.

 

“Well… I’m just gonna warn you in advance, fixing up a computer with your fancy Quirk will be harder than it looks,” said Yuichi, “Each one has trillions of transistors that each need to be individually calibrated if it’s gonna function properly.”

 

“S…Seriously?” said Ed.

 

Yuichi nodded. “You’d be better off trying to get a refurbished laptop from somewhere,” he said, “I, uh… I don’t know what your personal situation is, but you could probably afford a crappy, refurbished laptop with the money I just gave you and still have some left over.”

 

“I’ll look into it,” said Ed, shoving the wad of bills into his coat pocket, “Your sister went to the store, by the way.”

 

“She didn’t bulldoze you over, did she?” sighed Yuichi, picking up a wrench and leaning down over the hood.

 

“I’ve got experience wrangling people like her,” said Ed, “So… What are you doing in there?”

 

“...There’s no way I don’t regret this in hindsight,” sighed Yuichi, “Take a look.”

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

After a few days in this dimension, a routine started to form for him. He fixed up appliances in the morning, took them over to Hatsume’s around noon, spent the rest of his afternoon in the library till it closed around five, took a shower at the rec center, and then went home to eat.

 

“Fixing appliances?” said Himiko, sitting down across from him as he filled a bowl with rice and curry, “I wish I could do that.”

 

Usually, she was sitting here waiting for him by the time he returned.

 

“How are you doing, Himiko?” Ed asked, “Have you found a place to stay?”

 

“There’s an old row house on tenth street that’s been condemned,” she said, “It’s not the nicest place in the world, but it’s something. I’ve got water from the neighbor’s hose. Plus, there’s a bakery across the street that throws out old bread and sandwiches after a few days.”

 

Ed resisted the urge to grimace. It wasn’t fair to her for him to be disgusted or pitiful. His living situation wasn’t much different than hers. She might be sorting through trash for food, but he was sorting through trash to buy food. All Himiko had done was cut out the middle-man.

 

“Good to hear,” he elected to respond, “But if you ever need anything…”

 

“You’re right here, I know,” sighed Himiko, taking a bite of curry, “I don’t want to be a mooch.”

 

“Don’t think of it that way,” said Ed, “Let’s call it an investment. I’m riding high… well, relatively speaking, right now. But in a few months, maybe not. You’re mooching on me now, but maybe I’ll need to mooch on you in the future.”

 

“And here I thought you just liked my company,” said Himiko, rolling her eyes.

 

“Every relationship is at least a bit about survival,” said Ed, “It’s an evolutionary mechanism. The humans that work with one another survive, and the ones that don’t die out. The reason you and I are alive today is because our ancient ancestors were just slightly more inclined to be social.”

 

“That’s kind of depressing,” sighed Himiko, “Is… I don’t know, love even real if it’s all based on survival?”

 

“I think it’s beautiful,” said Ed, “It’s all a matter of how you look at it, Himiko. You can be depressed that love is based on survival, but that relationship is mutual. Yes, love is based on survival, but survival is also based on love. We’re designed to thrive as a species when we treat each other with respect and kindness. It’s our great power as humans, even more than our brains, which lets us craft spears and slings, or our endurance, that lets us chase gazelles to exhaustion. It’s our ability to work with each other that lets us conquer nature. Isn’t that amazing?”

 

“God, you’re sappy,” said Himiko, rolling her eyes, “Why the hell are you so cheerful!? You’re living in a shack on the beach! Your father ran out on you! Nobody’s helping you out!”

 

Ed just smiled. “I’ve been through too much to let that bum me out,” he said, the gentile smile turning into a cocky smirk, “And I’ve learned that crying about it doesn’t help anyone. You’re only gonna get stuff done if you can believe it can be done! Realists are suckers! What’s the point of accepting the world as it is now? This whole city used to be forests and fields a thousand years ago. Look at what it is now. If we can build towers that pierce the sky, then why not accept the idea that your life can be a little better?”

 

Himiko just stared at him, but after a few moments, that baffled look on her face was replaced by a smile. Except it wasn’t the jubilant, confident smile that Ed was so fond of wearing. There was a sadness to it that he couldn’t quite place.

 

“I guess that is a nice thing about being human,” she muttered, staring down at her bowl.

 

“...You say that like you’re an outside observer, Himiko,” commented Ed, pouring her another serving of curry. The girl just said nothing and took another bite of her curry. “You aren’t a monster, Himiko. I don’t know what on Earth makes you think you might be one, but it’s not true.”

 

“You don’t know me, Edward,” said Himiko, stirring her bowl.

 

“I might not know you very well, Himiko,” Ed conceded, “But I know monsters, Himiko. I’ve seen things that you think you’d only hear whispered around a campfire. Things I would assume were the ramblings of a crazy person if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. There’s evil in this universe of ours. And trust me, they’re out of your league.”

 

Himiko’s sad smile turned into a pout as she glared at him, before she opened her mouth and revealed her fang-like canines. “I drink blood,” she said, “I’m fascinated by it. I guess you’d say I’m a haematolagniac.”

 

“So?” said Ed, raising an eyebrow, “We’ve all got our own… interests.”

 

“I attacked a classmate because of it,” she continued, “I saw him walking home with a bloody nose and just… pounced. He’s in the hospital because of me. I don’t know if he’s alive or dead.”

 

“Alright,” shrugged Ed, “You did something bad. That doesn’t make you a monster. That makes you all the more human. Our sins don’t make us inhuman, they’re a part of us. You felt lust and gluttony. I’ve got plenty of pride and envy inside of me.”

 

That pout was again replaced, this time by curiosity. Like she understood what he said but wasn’t fully willing to accept it. He took a deep breath. Time to bring out the big guns.

 

“Look at this,” said Ed, rolling up his pant leg to reveal his automail. “I got this doing something absolutely heinous. Much worse than your little incident. It nearly killed me and my brother. I literally lost a part of my humanity from my mistakes, Himiko. I did it fully knowing it was wrong. It was a conscious decision. I didn’t give in to a sudden, animalistic instinct like you. If what you did makes you a monster, then I’m… I’m a demon. A demon walking around in a leather bag in the shape of a person.”

 

Himiko leaned forward over the fireplace, brushing a finger along his metal leg. “Does it hurt?” she asked.

 

“It aches when the weather’s about to go bad, but I’m used to it,” he said, giving it a slap, “And that’s honestly more useful than annoying.”

 

“How did you learn to live with it?” she asked, “Your mistake.”

 

“Honestly?” he said, “I think I only did recently. Not entirely, at least. I’ve spent the rest of my life trying to atone for what I’ve done. And… I think I finally have, after all these years. I don’t know if God is moral, but I can say with complete certainty that I’ve paid my debt to it. But… I know I couldn’t have made it to where I am today on my own. If it wasn’t for other people, I’d be wallowing in self-pity or maybe even dead. I don’t know how you’ll learn to live with it, but it won’t be by yourself.”

 

“What did you do, Edward?” she asked, staring into his eyes.

 

“Himiko, I mean this with the bottom of my heart when I tell you that you wouldn’t get it,” said Ed, meeting her gaze, “I don’t mean that in some philosophical sense. You’d understand my reasoning perfectly well. You probably wouldn’t think less of me for it. But to answer that would create more questions than it answers. If I thought it would help you to explain, I promise you I would.”

 

Himiko continued to stare at him, the curiosity in her eyes only intensified by his blunt refusal to answer. But eventually, she sighed and backed away, returning to her bowl.

 

“You’re a weird guy, Ed,” she declared.

 

“I’m just a man,” he said, staring into the fire, “Just a man.”

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

Not bad. Not bad at all. This polyurethane stuff was way easier to transmute than organic materials he could use to make a mattress. Well… technically it was also an organic material, but that was organic in the academic, chemical sense rather than the common nomenclature. The carbon polymers were much easier to create than, say, the cellulose of cotton or beta-keratin of feathers. 

 

He laid down on the freshly created mattress and stared through the slits in the ceiling that provided ventilation at the stars, the crisp, early-spring air descending onto his face. Were these the same stars he stared at in Amestris? Or perhaps one of these stars was, in fact, Amestris. Ed wasn’t sure. It was a real shame how the people of this world sent a man to the moon and then just… stopped once they developed Quirks. How could these petty little powers compare to understanding the secrets of the cosmos? He–

 

THUD.

 

Ed froze as he heard a banging sound coming from outside his shelter. Cautiously, he pressed his hands together, preparing to transmute a weapon. The banging got louder and louder, as the walls of his home began to shake.

 

Craaaaaaaack .

 

The walls cracked as a hunk of the clay that made it up was pried free, allowing the moonlight to flow into his shelter, revealing the freckled face with green eyes on the other side.

 

“...What are you doing?” said Ed, getting up from his mattress.

 

“GAH!” yelled the kid, “I’m sorry! I–I–I didn’t realize anyone was here!”

 

“It’s fine,” said Ed, opening the door, “But, uh… mind not telling anyone I’m here? Actually, what are you doing here? Also… who are you?”

Notes:

Gasp! Is that a wild Midoriya I see!?

Chapter 6: Introductions

Summary:

Ed meets some new people.

Over the past ten months, Izuku Midoriya had learned to become a problem solver. Cleaning Takobah beach had proven to be as much of a mental exercise as it was physical. After a few weeks of carrying trash to the dumpster, he had started bringing a tarp, piling his quarry onto it, and then dragging it instead. The piles of trash that formed were by no means structurally stable. It took careful examination and preparation to take them down without collapsing. Instead of playing the careful game of Jenga to prevent a collapse, he simply started pushing them down from the opposite side, like a lumberjack. 

 

One idea he wished he had come up with earlier was to start working at night. It was perhaps a bit dangerous, but the beach wasn’t that far from his home, and despite the beach being a literal dump, it was well lit. The idea had been born from a simple logic. If the heat was making work difficult, simply work when it was not hot. He, unfortunately, had only come up with the idea on the tail end of summer, but it certainly made his August more pleasant than his June and July. 

 

Now in early March, the same logic didn’t necessarily apply. He still worked up quite a sweat cleaning and certainly appreciated the cooler air at night, but the warmer temperature during the day wasn’t uncomfortable enough to necessarily make the tradeoffs working at night worth it. By now it didn’t matter. The inertia of routine was too strong to make the benefits of working during the day worth overcoming. He had developed a schedule. He came home from school, did his homework, ate, and then got to work. Besides, it would all be over soon. There was a week left until the UA entrance exam, and he had more or less a week of cleaning left before he would be finished.

 

With his tarp slung over his shoulder, Izuku approached the final section of the beach still covered with trash, maybe about half a kilometer in length. A few mounds of trash stuck up from the rest of the rubble, and that’s where Izuku decided he would start. There was no point in clearing the area surrounding it if it was just going to be re-covered with trash once he took those down. 

 

The first one he went to deal with was a bit peculiar. It was much more sturdy than the others. He gave a hunk of metal sticking out of it a pull, but it didn’t budge. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed it with both hands, and pulled. Ten months ago, this would have been a futile effort, but Izuku had come a long way in that time. A combination of back-breaking labor and the natural development of any child his age had replaced his scrawny physique with well-defined muscles, and, finally, he dislodged the hunk of metal.

 

Yet… 

 

The mound did not collapse. And what was this stuff stuck to the end of it? Izuku reached out and tried to brush off the hardened brown substance. It felt… like… a mug, almost. Was this clay? What the heck was under there? He looked up at the spot in the mound he had pulled the metal free from, spotting the hole.

 

“...What are you doing?”’ called a voice from inside the mound as he gazed into the hole.

 

“GAH!” cried Izuku, falling back into the trash, “I’m sorry! I–I–I didn’t realize anyone was here!”

 

“It’s fine,” said the voice, as what appeared to be a door hidden within the mound swung open, revealing the short, blond kid that was its source. “But, uh… mind not telling anyone I’m here? Actually, what are you doing here? Also… who are you?”

 

“It’s–I’m Midoriya,” said Izuku, still shaken, “Izuku Midoriya. I was just cleaning the beach, I–I didn’t realize anyone was, um… in here.”

 

“Well, I was trying to be discreet,” said the kid, giving Izuku a hand up, “Guess that means I did a good job! So, Midoriya, what are you doing cleaning this beach at night?”

 

“I’m training for UA,” he explained.

 

“UA?” said the kid, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Yeah,” Izuku nodded, “I’m trying to become a hero.”

 

“Ah,” said the kid, “And… why at night?”

 

“It’s… It’s cooler out,” he muttered.

 

“Fair enough,” the kid shrugged, before turning back to the mound. Izuku looked over his shoulder, peaking inside and spotting the mattress in the corner, along with the bag of rice and metal pot. His eyes widened as he realized what he had stumbled into.

 

“Do… Do you live here?” asked Izuku, staring at the hole he had accidentally created.

 

“Yeah,” the kid nodded, “My castle of dreams.”

 

“I… I’m sorry I messed with your house,” Izuku muttered.

 

“Eh, don’t lose sleep over it,” said Ed, “Besides, if you’re cleaning here, I guess I’ll have to move.”

 

“I… I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t want to take away your house,” said Izuku, scratching the back of his neck.

 

“Relax,” said the kid, cracking his neck, “But I gotta ask you something. You wanna be a hero, right? Uphold the law and whatnot?” Izuku gave him a confused look, but nodded. “Would you have told the cops I was living out here? I don’t exactly know the laws here around vagrancy, but I’m guessing it’s illegal to sleep on a public beach.”

 

“I…” he said, staring the kid in the eyes, “No. I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

 

“Good,” said the kid, “Then, uh… mind ignoring another law for me?”

 

“What?” said Izuku.

 

“Just… stand back,” said the kid, walking onto the trash-free part of the beach. He knelt down and pressed his hands together before a flash of blue electricity cut through the darkness. Curiosity taking over his good sense, Izuku approached him. Lying in the sand right in front of him was a metal door, with an angry-looking skull in the center.

 

“What… What is that?” asked Izuku, as the kid grabbed onto the skull and pulled the door open, “Was that your Quirk!?”

 

“Yup,” he said, walking back into his previous shack, “Pretty handy, right?”

 

Izuku knelt down, looking through the open door. There was a perfectly smooth staircase, made out of completely solid rock. What kind of power was this? How deep did this staircase go? That door was made out of solid metal, but the stairs seemed like they were made out of sandstone. Could he… Could he control matter? Physically change the sand into iron?

 

“It’s a bit difficult, turning silicon atoms into iron, but I’ve got experience,” said the kid, returning from the shack with his mattress, “And it doesn’t go down that deep.

 

“Oh, was I muttering?” said Izuku, blushing. He nodded. “If… If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing out here?”

 

“No rent and a beachfront view?” said the kid, tossing his mattress down the stairs. “Sounds like a pretty good deal to me. Where else am I gonna live?”

 

“I… I see,” said Izuku, realizing what was happening.

 

“Uh… you mind telling me where you’re dumping this stuff?” asked the kid, “Because I’ve been trying to fix up old appliances down here to sell.”

 

“There’s a dumpster a few blocks that way,” said Izuku, gesturing down the street, “If you’d like, I… I can stack up the appliances.”

 

“Thanks,” said the kid.

 

“Who… Who are you?” asked Izuku.

 

“The name’s Ed,” said the kid, “Edward Elric.”

 

“How old are you, Edward?” asked Izuku.

 

“...Sixteen, why?” said Edward, eyes full of suspicion and thinly-veiled anger.

 

“N–Nothing,” said Izuku.

 

“Alright, well…” said Edward, “I’m going to sleep. Have fun cleaning.”

 

“Um… Have a nice night,” waved Izuku, as the metal door shut behind Edward. There was another flash of blue lightning, and suddenly, the door was covered by sand. He knelt down and tried to brush it off, but the door was no longer there. 

 

That was… strange. Izuku attempted to get back to cleaning the beach, but simply couldn’t focus. There were too many questions he needed answers to. After a few minutes, he began to walk back home, pulling out his phone.

 

“Hello?” called the voice on the other end of the line.

 

“Hi… All Might,” said Izuku, still not entirely comfortable with the fact that he was able to casually speak to his childhood hero, “I… I’m almost done cleaning the beach.”

 

“Fantastic, young Midoriya,” said All Might, “I can’t wait to see your progress!”

 

“There was a kid living in the trash,” he continued, “He said he was sixteen. I… I think he was lying. He looked… I don’t know, younger than me. Short. Really skinny.”

 

“I… I see,” said All Might, “How does this make you feel?”

 

“I don’t know,” Izuku admitted, “He moved because of me. It wasn’t… Well, it’s hard to explain, but he has another place to stay.”

 

“That’s good to hear,” said All Might.

 

“Am I… Am I doing the right thing?” asked Izuku. “He said he fixed up and sold the appliances that I’ve been throwing away. I… I’m taking away this homeless kid’s source of income. His home. All… All to make the beach a little nicer to look at.”

 

“I won’t pretend to have the answer for you, young Midoriya,” sighed All Might, “People… they adapt to new situations at different speeds. When a bad situation that the people in charge are supposed to prevent, like the beach becoming a dump, occurs, other people are quick to make the most of it before it is rectified mistakes. Usually, the people who are the most inclined to make the most of a new bad situation are those who struggle in their current situation. Then… When people try and fix things and try to resolve the bad situation, those people who gain value from things being bad are hurt. You aren’t a bad person for trying to fix a problem, no more than the homeless kid is for gaining value from that bad situation. You shouldn’t be weighing the moral consequences of these actions. That’s the trap so many people fall into. If you truly wish to be a hero, you should consider how to both help the child and clean the beach.”

 

“What… What if I can’t?” asked Izuku.

 

“Perhaps won’t be able to,” conceded All Might, “But you’re young. And the stakes here are low. At some point and at some time, you will be forced to make a choice. But never for a moment assume that you have to. Do everything in your power before going down that path.”

 

“...Thanks, All Might,” said Izuku.

 

“Don’t mention it, Midoriya,” said All Might, “I’ll see you Sunday.”

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

Ed wasn’t quite sure what drew him back to the library. He could theoretically do it anywhere. It might be more effective if he were out in nature instead. He could always do it in the privacy of his recently built… lair. Maybe there was just something comforting in the familiarity of this place. Despite the computers and strange hair colors of this world, a library was still a library. This was the kind of place Ed would have spent day after day in back in Amestris. Even if he didn’t need to conduct any research (at least, not for any information contained within these books), it might still be to his advantage to do his work here.

 

Sitting back down in his chair across the floor from the librarian’s desk, Ed again attempted to delve into the world of energy beneath the material. If he couldn’t tune out the agony as he delved deeper, maybe he could… get used to it. Like a frog in a pot of water that jumped out if you put it in while hot, but would stay calm if brought up from room temperature.

 

Let’s just hope he didn’t boil himself alive.

 

He could sense the life forms around him. Maybe… four humans in the room? Or… five. No, definitely four. The screams were there, but not getting louder, like an orchestra holding a fermata. It hurt, but Ed had gone through worse. He could take a little headache.

 

He sat there for minutes, just breathing deeply. He took no conscious effort to up his focus or delve deeper, but he didn’t strive to maintain his current level either, simply letting it flicker like a flame in the wind. The life forms became more and less visible with each passing moment, and the screams, they… they didn’t become louder or quieter, but they became clearer. He could make out distinct voices within the cacophony. 

 

A fifth human entered this room, this one, stronger than the others, somehow. Their energy wasn’t brighter or larger than anyone else’s was, just more… coherent, if that made any sense. It was walking toward him, approaching the shelf of magazines next to him. 

 

“Are you alright?” it asked.

 

Ed opened his eyes in annoyance. Standing next to him was a tall man with broad shoulders and blue hair, with strange pipes sticking out of his elbows, a frustratingly kind smile on his face. 

 

“Yeah,” said Ed, “Just thinking.”

 

“Oh,” said the man, scratching the back of his head, “Sorry, I… You had this really intense look on your face. What brings you to the library in the middle of a Wednesday like this? Work or fun?”

 

“Work,” said Ed, his answer somewhere halfway between a truth and a lie, “I don’t really read for fun. Besides, the library’s nice and quiet.”

 

“No?” said the man, sitting down next to him. God, what was this guy’s problem? “Why not?”

 

“I… I don’t know,” said Ed, shrugging. He supposed he did enjoy the act of reading, but he never did it without purpose. It was always in service of gaining a greater understanding of alchemy, which in turn was in service of getting his and Al’s bodies back. 

 

Of course, he couldn’t tell this stranger the truth.

 

“We didn’t really have a lot of fiction in the house when I was growing up,” he continued, “I’ve always been too busy for it.”

 

“Reading for fun isn’t about fiction or nonfiction,” said the man, “I personally can’t touch nonfiction, but my younger brother? He thinks it’s a waste of time. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t have fun reading, though. If you enjoy it and it’s not for entirely practical reasons, then it’s for fun.”

 

“In that case, I’m still not doing it for fun,” said Ed, rolling his eyes, “All knowledge is at least a little practical.”

 

“Good point,” conceded the man, “Still, if you’ve never given fiction a shot, you’re missing out.”

 

“...If I pick up a novel, will you leave me alone?” asked Ed.

 

The man stifled a laugh as he got out of his seat. “I gotta introduce you to my brother sometime,” he chuckled, reaching into his bag, “Here. I just got this renewed. You have till the end of March to bring it back. Either give it to a librarian or just dump it in the return slot. Or don’t. This library doesn’t charge late fees.”

 

He set down a thick paperback book on the table, with a watercolor drawing on the front. On it, there was a man standing on a beach, pulling a boat onto the shore with a rope, a castle overlooking the scene. He wasn’t sure whether or not he appreciated how they put drawings on the covers of books in this world. More art was always nice, he supposed, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about images being used as advertisements for books.

 

“The Count of Monte Cristo,” Ed read, “Any good?”

 

“It’s an oldie but a goodie,” said the blue-haired man, “Classic revenge story.”

 

“I’ll give it a shot,” Ed shrugged, picking it up.

 

“You won’t regret it,” the man promised, “It’s got everything. Betrayal, romance, swordfights, prison breaks, stock market manipulation, the works. Alright, well… I’ll let you get back to whatever it is you’re working on, kid. Have a good one.”

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“So… What did you think?” asked Nobuko, as Ingenium (ALSO HOLY SHIT THEY SENT INGENIUM!) approached her desk.

 

“It’s a bit concerning that he’s here in the middle of a school day,” Ingenium acknowledged, “Especially if he’s been here for the past few days. But… I don’t think he’s here because he has nowhere else to go. He said he was here working, and I think I believe him.”

 

“Oh…” said Nobuko, “I’m… I’m sorry for wasting your time, Mr. Ingenium.”

 

“Please, call me Tensei,” he smiled, “And don’t be. It’s what heroes do. You had a good reason to call us, based on what you told me. I appreciate you keeping an eye out for any kids who might be in trouble. Don’t hesitate to call if you think there’s another kid in a rough situation.”

 

“I understand,” nodded Nobuko, “Thanks for taking the time to come out here. I was… I’ve seen social services mess things up. I’m kind of scared of calling them if… you know.”

 

“Of course,” said Tensei, “That’s why I set up this program, ma'am. Edward seems like a fine kid from what you’ve told me. I can tell he at least has a good head on his shoulders. He’s lucky to have someone like you watching out for him.”

 

“Oh, I’m… I’m just a librarian,” said Nobuko, scratching the back of her head. “It’s my job to make sure the kids here are safe.”

 

“You’re doing a good job of it,” said Tensei, “It’s people like you who make my job possible. Never underestimate the contribution you can make by refusing to just be a bystander. Speaking of which, I’d appreciate it if you continued keeping an eye on him for me. Just because I’m not immediately worried about him being here on a school day doesn’t mean I’m not at all worried. Truancy is just out of my jurisdiction. Please give us a call if you notice anything else suspicious. And… if you see bruises or anything…”

 

“I’ll call you immediately,” she nodded. 

Chapter 7: The Autopsy

Summary:

Ed gets his automail checked out and has a fateful encounter.

Notes:

Sorry for the late update, I'm on vacation rn and was too busy Saturday to post.

“Thanks for doing this for me, Mei,” said Ed, sitting down on an armchair in the dusty, dimly lit workshop while the pink-haired girl poked at his leg.

 

“Who built this?” she muttered, ignoring him. “It’s archaic and advanced at the same time. All metal, no synthetic polymers. It only uses electrical signals from your nervous system to guide itself, but the movement, it’s… it’s entirely mechanical. Like a finely made watch, almost. Are you from an alternate steampunk universe!?”

 

“...What the hell is a steam-punk?” said Ed, raising his eyebrow.

 

“Not enough brown leather,” she declared, “You don’t live in a clock, do you?”

 

“No?” said Ed, “What is steam-punk?”

 

“Perchance?” said Mei.

 

“Ok… good talk,” said Ed, “If you don’t mind, can you take notes on what you find? I lost the schematics and, uh… I can’t really get in contact with my mechanic. I’d like to have a copy, just in case.”

 

“Oh, I’ve actually got something for that,” said Mei, getting up from her stool. She reached under the table covered with tools and half-finished inventions, pulling out a yellow, scratched-up plastic case that said ‘DEFIBRILLATOR,’ which she set down on her lab as she sat back down. It clicked open, revealing the guts of the machine, a cobbled-together mess of different colors and materials, with a blue screen in the top half of the machine. She pulled out a small device with a handle connected to a case by a wire, almost like a clothes iron, which emanated a blue light as she waved it over his leg.

 

“What… What is that?” Ed asked, watching as shapes appeared on the screen.

 

“Just a scanner I built,” Mei explained, pressing the plating back on. “Alright, flip over. I need to get the other side.” He complied, looking back over his shoulder and watching in curiosity as she repeated the process on the other side before pulling out a similarly cobbled-together laptop, which she plugged into the device. “That should be it. I’ve got a three-dimensional model of your leg. Can’t see inside of everything, but looking inside some of those mechanisms, well… I can do it, but it would basically involve disassembling and reassembling everything. I know how it all fits together, at least. And I can see how it connects to your nervous system, how all the pieces fit together, and what they do, which are the really important things. As long as I know how it’s supposed to work, I can make it work, even if it’s not a one-to-one copy.”

 

“...Do it,” grimaced Ed, “Take it apart.

 

“Seriously!?” said Mei, grinning, “I’m guessing it won't be fun for you.”

 

“Yeah,” Ed nodded, “Like I said, I can’t get in contact with my mechanic. I need for someone in Japan to really understand how this thing works if it breaks.”

 

“Hold on a second,” said Mei, getting up from her stool and walking out of the workshop. A few moments later, she returned with a leather belt in hand. “I don’t have any anesthesia. I can’t keep my hands steady if you’re screaming.”

 

“I think you’re underestimating my pain tolerance,” said Ed, taking the belt, “But if it’ll make things easier for you…”

 

He bit down on the leather and braced himself for what came next.

 

This wasn’t going to be fun.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Alright, finally done,” said Mei, pressing the plating back onto his leg, “I’ve got scans of all the internal pieces. It’ll take me some time to… I don’t know, create a user’s manual? Come by in a week for the fully detailed schematics.”

 

“Fnnks,” said Ed, taking the belt out of his mouth.

 

“My pleasure,” said Mei, examining the screen of her laptop, “I don’t know who on Earth figured this out, but a prosthetic this high-end is usually only something you can get if you’re a hero. A good one, at least. Something like this would take a fortune and a team of skilled engineers to make. Way better too, at least in combat. Usually, there’s a tough exterior coating to compensate for a more delicate interior, but yours is entirely made out of the same high-grade alloy. Of course, you’re also much more vulnerable to the elements. Sand, dust and whatnot. You should really look into a plastic coating like I suggested. Turns out, this thing won’t even generate any exhaust, so as long as it doesn’t interfere with mobility, just about anything should work.”

 

“Yeah, sorry I haven’t done that,” said Ed, scratching the back of his head, “I’ve been a bit busy.”

 

She tilted her head in confusion. “Why are you apologizing for that?” she asked.

 

“Um… force of habit, I guess,” said Ed, “My old mechanic would have hit me with a wrench for messing up her work.”

 

“Ah, a protective mama to her babies,” said Mei, packing up her scanner.

 

“You… You really built that,” he observed. She nodded. “From scratch?”

 

“The software was open source,” she said, sliding the scanner under the table, “But I cobbled baby six-sixty-four together out of stuff from the junkyard, although I did kind of follow some schematics I found online. It’s basically that, with less… sophisticated parts.”

 

“It’s really impressive,” said Ed, getting up from the seat. “Who taught you?”

 

“Little bit of family, little bit of self-teaching,” she explained, sitting down in front of the work table and typing into her laptop, “Dad was an electrical engineer. He taught me how to build circuits when I was four years old. Mom was, well… She was a lot. I guess she was mostly a mechanic, but she could weld, machine, and a whole lot of other stuff. I think she used to build race cars or something. Real high-end stuff, all from scratch. She taught Yuichi everything she knew, and he taught me how to use all his tools.”

 

“I… I have to ask…” Ed began, unsure how to ask his question politely.

 

“Where are they?” Mei finished. Ed nodded. “They died in a car crash four years ago. It was raining, they took a corner too fast and… spun out.”

 

“Oh…” he muttered.

 

“My turn,” she said, “How’d you lose the leg?”

 

Ed grimaced, feeling obligated to tell the truth but unwilling to give away too much. “It was five years ago,” he decided to answer, “I… I was conducting an experiment. Things went wrong.

 

“...Experiment?” she said, turning around. “What went wrong? Failure is the mother of invention, if–”

 

“You don’t want to know, Mei,” interrupted Ed, “It was the kind of experiment where the conclusion you need to draw from the results is that you shouldn’t have done it in the first place. I’m lucky it only took my leg. My Teacher, it… it took a few internal organs from her.”

 

“What was it for?” asked Mei, “What were you trying to accomplish?”

 

“You don’t want to know,” said Ed.

 

“Don’t tell me what I want to–” said Mei.

 

“Then I don’t want to tell you, Mei!” said Ed, “Please, Mei, I’m begging you. Just drop it.”

 

“...Fine,” she said, turning back to your computer, “If… If you were running an experiment, what kind of scientist are you?”

 

“I… I guess I’m a chemist,” he said, putting his coat back on, “More like material science, though.”

 

“Oh yeah?” said Mei, perking up again, “Why that specifically? And is it at all related to why my brother is teaching you mechanics?”

 

“It works well with my Quirk,” Ed explained, “The mechanics is, well… just a general curiosity, I guess, but it could also theoretically have applications with my Quirk.”

 

“How does yours work exactly?” she asked, standing up from the table.

 

“It’s called Equivalent Exchange,” said Ed, pressing his hands together. His eyes darted across the worktable, eventually landing on the door of a microwave. “Are you using that?” Mei shook her head, and so he pressed a hand against it, transmuting it into a glass cube.

 

“What. Was. That,” she said, jaw hanging open.

 

“Equivalent Exchange,” he repeated, “I can edit the atomic structure of matter. I can swap around atoms and shapes.”

 

“So… hypothetically… You could turn that into tungsten?” she asked, tapping the cube. Ed nodded. “Do it. Please.”

 

“Um… You know it’s illegal, right?” said Ed.

 

“So?” said Mei, tilting her head. “Laws were made to be broken.”

 

“Just making sure,” he shrugged, pressing his hands back against the cube. Tungsten was complicated. It wasn’t something he had a lot of experience transmuting. He knew how to, of course. He couldn’t go around calling himself ‘Fullmetal’ if he didn’t. But when compared to iron and carbon and silicon and calcium, the literal building blocks of his world, he had never really worked with the stuff. It took a few minutes, but finally, the glass turned into tungsten, albeit it was noticably smaller in volume. 

 

“I… I… I…” she stuttered, “This is the best day of my life.”

 

“I should… I should probably get going,” said Ed, approaching the door.

 

“This is the best day of my life,” Mei repeated, picking up the cube.

 

Cautiously, he stepped through the door of the workshop and out into the floor of the junkyard, where Yuichi was still working on that car.”

 

“Please don’t tell me you showed her your Quirk,” sighed Yuichi, getting out from underneath the vehicle.

 

“I, uh… I might have,” he admitted.

 

“Whelp, you’re problem now,” said Yuichi, “Don’t blame me when she drags you out of bed in the middle of the night to make her palladium or fuse together some parts without any welding.”

 

“Uch, you just reminded me,” Ed sighed, “I need to find a new place to stay.”

 

“What’s wrong with where you’re currently living?” asked the mechanic.

 

“Long story,” said Ed. He supposed he could still live in his current underground shelter, which was basically his shack retransmuted underground, but it would be getting uncomfortable soon. Midoriya had done a good job cleaning the beach. He could see people starting to return to enjoy the sand, even though it was the middle of March. They were still far away from where he was living, but there was still trash close by. Once the kid finished, they’d be everywhere. Maybe he’d ask Himiko if he could crash with her. The row house she lived in was a bit far from the library and Hatsume’s junkyard, but privacy was worth a commute.

 

“You’re… You’re homeless, right?” said Yuichi. Ed opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything. “C’mon, kid, I had you pegged the moment you approached me. Kids with parents don’t do this for a living. At least, kids with parents worth a damn.”

 

“...Yeah, I’m homeless,” he admitted, “I’ve got a place to stay, but I don’t know how much longer it’ll be an option.”

 

“I’ll tell you what, if you indluge my sister’s… peculiarities, and I’ll help you out with that,” said Yuichi, “Something legal.”

 

“You have an extra room?” asked Ed.

 

“God no!” said Yuichi, “But… I do have this.”

 

Ed followed the mechanic through the junkyard, until they came face to face with…

 

“Someone dropped off this trailer a few weeks back,” Yuichi explained, “Engine doesn’t work and the inside’s shitty, but I figure that’s a problem you can easily fix. This whole place is my property so you don’t have to worry about the cops harassing you. Of course, I’m guessing your a minor so don’t let social services know you’re here, but… I figure it’s nicer than where ever you’re staying.”

 

“You won’t charge me anything?” asked Ed.

 

“If you want to use my power, then yeah,” said Yuichi, “But the main thing I need is for you to help Mei. She wants to get into UA’s Support Course, but they’ll need a portfolio for the entrance exam. Hatsume makes plenty of amazing things, but she’s held back by the quality of material available to her. I know people who have taken the exam before, they put your gear through the wringer. The stuff she makes out of scrap she picks out of here won’t hold up under pressure. I’m barely making ends meet here, I can’t afford to get her the stuff she needs. So if you’re willing to give her a hand with her portfolio, I’ll let you crash here. If she gets in, you can stay indefinitely. Deal?”

 

“Deal,” said Ed, shaking the mechanic’s hand. He would have helped her for no promise of reward, already owing her for helping him with his automail, but he wouldn’t turn down a solution to his issue.

 

“HEY, HATSUME!” a voice from the gate called.

 

“Oh, shit,” muttered Yuichi, “Wait here, kid.”

 

“What’s going on!?” said Ed, as Yuichi made his way over to the gate. The mechanic said nothing, and so Ed closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and…

 

There were two people by the gate. Ed could sense their energy. This was a world where ideas and concepts such as color were irrelevant, but… they seemed red. Angry. Yuichi’s was more of a blueish-grey, while Mei’s in the workshop was closer to a yellow, and what emotions he could sense from them were too faint to discern. Now more concerned than intrigued, he followed down the path toward the entrance, where Yuichi was arguing with two tall, buff, shady-looking guys, one with needles sticking out of his arms and the other with one eye and two seemingly fancy black cars behind them.

 

“What the hell are you doing in my shop!?” said Yuichi, “I told your boss that I want nothing to do with you people.”

 

“Well, Kusumoto told us that you’d fix up these cars,” said the one with needle-arms, “We need ‘em ready by tonight for a job, and someone’s gotta get them ready or else there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

 

“Take it up with him, then,” shrugged Yuichi.

 

“I don’t think you get it,” said the cyclops, “Our boss told us to come to you to have these cars stripped down for extra room. If you said you’re not going to do this, well… that means you’re calling our boss a liar. Are you calling our boss a liar, Hatsume? Because I don’t think I’d take kindly to that. Would you, Rokuro?”

 

“No I would not, Jun,” said needle-arms.

 

“Hey!” called Ed, “Are these guys giving you trouble, Yuichi?”

 

“Stay out of this, kid!” barked Yuichi.

 

“Aw, is your apprentice or something?” taunted Jun, the one with one eye.

 

“The pipsqueak has some fire in him!” laughed Rokuro, needle-arms.

 

“WHAT DID YOU CALL ME!?” yelled Ed, charging at the two.

 

“DAMN IT, KID, STAY OUT OF THIS!” repeated Yuichi.

 

“HAH!” yelled Rokuro, holding up his forearms. A hail of needles flew through the air, causing Ed to transmute a wall ahead of him. 

 

Say, these guys didn’t know about alchemy, did they? As the needles continued to strike into the wall, Ed decided to test the waters, pressing his hands against the ground. They didn’t seem to notice as he transmuted the ground behind them. It would have been easy to simply overwhelm them, trap them like dad–Hohenheim trapped Pride.

 

But…

 

It had been over a week since he had gotten into a real fight. It would be nice to stretch and get the blood flowing. Plus, there was something he had been dying to try out since arriving here. Ed pressed both hands against the wall and closed his eyes, sensing their energy as he pushed forward, the sheet of stone shielding him from the needles.

 

He could sense their energy, and there was something intense he felt from Rokuro as he used his Quirk. Something familiar. Something sinister. But there was no time to focus on it, Jun was charging at him. Ed ducked as his fist crashed through the wall of stone, and, while keeping his eyes shut, he jumped over the gangster before pressing his hand against the man’s leg, transmuting his pant-legs together and causing him to tumble to the ground

 

“JUN!” yelled Rokuro, charging at Ed. A quick kick to his shin with his metal leg sent him following his friend, and a quick transmutation trapped him in the ground.

 

“...You really, really shouldn’t have done that,” said Yuichi.

 

“Uh huh,” sighed Ed, approaching Rokuro.

 

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” he yelled, as Ed pressed a hand against him..

 

Ed wasn’t sure what he would find, but he needed to check. He needed to know if it was there. While he wasn’t particularly skilled at bio-alchemy, he understood the theoreticals, and it’s not like he was actually trying to change anything. He was just… searching.

 

There it was. It didn’t take long for his combination of alchemy and basic understanding of the Dragon’s Pulse to locate it. He could sense it flowing through the man’s veins. Taking a deep breath, Ed carefully separated it from the blood, and a moment later, the man spat out a wad of red. Any normal person would have assumed it was blood, and they would have been half-right, but there was no mistaking what that was mixed in with it. Carefully, he transmuted the ground that the wad landed on into a glass container, which he pocketed.

 

“I need you to get the hell of my property,” said Yuichi, “The deal’s off. Don’t show your face around here again, kid, for your sake and mine.”

 

“Sure,” said Ed, not really paying attention, “I’ll see you around, Yuichi.”

 

“No, you won’t,” said Yuichi, as Ed stepped through the gate.

 

He made it about a few blocks away before he ducked into the alley and pulled out the container. Taking a deep breath, he transmuted the ground in front of him, creating a spire that shot up to the ceiling before he caused it to retract into the ground. He did not press his hands together. He did not draw a circle. He simply willed it to be, and so it was.

 

The container was hot to the touch, and there were a few flecks of ash floating in it. The stone had partially disintegrated. It was a tiny, insignificant shard, perhaps with only a fraction of a single soul in it, but still enough to bend nature to his whims. That explained the agony he sensed all around him. That explained what was in the air. That explained the Philosopher’s Stone he sensed in the air. It wasn’t just one big one; it was thousands, millions, billions of tiny fragments, and it had interwoven itself with the natural flow of souls that made up the universe.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“What the hell happened!?” yelled Kusumoto, as Rokuro and Jun stepped into his office, “All ya had to do was get him to fix up a car!?”

 

“There–There–There was this kid!” Rokuro stuttered, “A real monster!”

 

“A kid,” Kusumoto repeated, “You got beat up… By a kid.”

 

“He wasn’t just any regular kid, boss!” said Jun, “He had the craziest Quirk I had ever seen. He just… made walls out of nothing! Made the fabric of my pants stick together! And he did something to Rokuro and now his Quirk ain’t workin’!”

 

“...What did you just say?” said Kusumoto, anger replaced by a deadly seriousness.

 

“Rokuro’s Quirk!” Jun repeated, “It isn’t working!”

 

“And this kid…” said Kusumoto, spinning around in his seat, “You said he just… made a wall? Like out of the ground or something.” Rokuro nodded. “This kid… did he have golden eyes? Brown hair?”  

 

“Uh… yes on the eyes, no on the hair,” said Jun, “He was blond.”

 

“Get the hell out of my office,” said Kusumoto.

 

“Boss, I–”

 

“GET THE HELL OUT!” yelled Kusumoto.

 

Shit. Shit! SHIT! Kusuomoto didn’t know he had kin living out here! Part of the reason he worked out here was to get away from Nagoya and that psychopath! He had to get out in front of this. He picked up the phone and dialed a number he hoped he would never have to call again. Maybe, just maybe he could smooth things over.

 

“Hey, Kurono,” Kusumoto spoke into the phone, “Any chance I can speak to the big man?”

 

“What do you want, Kusumoto?” sighed Kurono.

 

“Look…” he said, rubbing his temples, “Some of my guys… They had a run-in with his cousin.”

 

“His cousin?” said Kurono.

 

“I promise you, they didn’t know,” Kusumoto continued, “They’d never harm kin of yours if they knew. I’ve got nothing but respect for the Hassaikai. What can I do to make this right? You want ‘em dead? Cause they’ll be at the bottom of the ocean like that if you–”

 

“What cousin?” interrupted Kurono.

 

“I don’t know, some kid,” said Kusumoto, “Didn’t get his name. But he had the big man’s Quirk, had his eyes, and screwed around with one of my guy’s Quirk, who else could he be?”

 

“Just… hold on a minute,” said Kurono.

 

Click .

 

God damn it, what the hell had he just gotten sucked into?

 

Notes:

Uh oh.

Chapter 8: Memories

Summary:

Ed grapples with the revelation from last chapter while Midoriya...

Midoriya has a strange dream.

Notes:

I really suck at notes so I'm just gonna once again repeat how thankful I am for all the support this fic has gotten.

Philosopher’s Stones. Quirks were Philosopher’s Stones. What did that mean? Were the people here all, what, basically homunculi? Were those with mutant Quirks just chimeras? The spontaneous genetic mutations that created Quirks just alchemy randomly firing upon people who had absorbed a shard of a stone?

Did they even know? Ed supposed not. No information he found online suggested anything remotely resembling a stone even existed, but then again, it’s not like the people of Amestris knew where their alchemy had come from. Could the top levels of government know the truth? Were they hiding this information from the general public?

 

What the hell was he going to do? He already was struggling to figure out a way to get rid of a single massive stone, but billions of tiny stones? How the hell was he going to do that? He couldn’t exorcize the stones from the entire globe’s population, and there was no way of knowing if that would even solve the problem. Something had caused Philosopher’s Stones to form in regular humans, even if he removed them from every living person, there was no guarantee that it wouldn’t happen again.

 

He stared down at the red container in his hand. It was almost funny. Ed had spent the past four years trying to find one of these stones to save Alphonse, and now he was tasked with destroying them to get his brother’s body back. First things first, he needed to figure out how to destroy a Philosopher’s Stone. Doctor Marcoh figured it out, and Ed had practically memorized his notes. With enough time and effort, surely he could too. Then he could figure out how to expand the process.

 

He just… He just needed to think. He needed to…

 

“Hey, Elric!” called a familiar voice.

 

“Oh, h–hi, Midoriya, right?” said Ed, looking up at the waving kid standing by a pile of trash, “How goes the cleaning?”

 

“Pretty good,” said Midoriya, “I just finished by last section. Is… Is everything alright?”

 

“Yup,” said Ed, looking down at the container, “Just… Just thinking about some stuff, I guess. You said you were training for UA, right? When’s the entrance exam?”

 

“Tomorrow,” said Midoriya.

 

“You think you’re ready?” asked Ed.

 

“...As ready as I’ll ever be,” grimaced Midoriya.

 

Ed recalled his own State Alchemist exam. How he launched himself at the Führer. If he had just been a little faster… A little stronger, maybe he could have saved the world a lot of trouble. Or maybe he’d have been executed for treason, and Father would have just created a new Wrath to go along with a new Führer.

 

“What does a hero entrance exam look like?” asked Ed, “Is it just a written test or…”

 

“There’s a written test and a practical test,” Midoriya explained, “But the written test is mostly on academics.”

 

“What’s the practical test like?” asked Ed.

 

“There’s… There are a lot of rumors on the internet, but nobody knows for sure,” answered Midoriya, “I’ve heard a lot of people say it’s fighting robots.”

 

"Are… Are you ready to fight?” asked Ed. The kid was very well-built. More than Ed, that was for sure, but he had a wide-eyed, innocent look to him. Of course, so did Alphonse and he routinely kicked got his ass by his younger brother. But Midoriya didn’t answer his question, just letting his mouth hang open. “Have you gotten into a fight before?”

 

“I’ve… I’ve seen movies,” said Midoriya.

 

“Do… you want to go a few rounds?” Ed suggested.

 

“Are you serious!?” asked Midoirya, “I–I couldn’t…”

 

“Hey, I’m just offering,” shrugged Ed, “But exam pressure is real. That combined with it being your first fight…”

 

“You… You make a good point,” conceded Midoriya.

 

“Just show me how you throw a punch,” said Ed, taking off his coat and tying it around his waist before holding up both hands. Midoriya raised his fist and gave a tepid punch to his left hand. “Alright, give it a little more juice. Put your whole body into it. Like this.” He took a step back before punching the air, putting perhaps a little too much emphasis on his leg and shoulder. “Give it a try.”

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Thanks… Thanks for the help,” said Izuku, leaning down and breathing heavily.

 

“No problem,” said Edward, putting his coat back on, “Good luck with your test tomorrow.”

 

“I’ll do my best!” he promised.

 

He wore a confident face, but deep down, he was weighing how much he should be concerned with Ed’s skill. Nothing he said was any great insight into combat that could have only been gained with years of experience, but when combined with everything else Izuku knew about him, the fact that he knew how to fight was worrying. Although… perhaps not as worrying as the idea that he didn’t know how to protect himself.

 

“So… Where did you learn how to fight?” asked Izuku, simply deciding to rip off the band-aid. 

 

“I had a teacher,” Edward explained, scooping up a handful of sand which he turned to ice with his Quirk. That ability had kept him up at night almost as much as the moral dilemma the homeless kid put him in. Did he truly have the ability to change all matter? To turn one element into another?

 

“Who were they?” asked Izuku. “A hero?”

 

“No,” said Edward, “Just… a housewife. She taught me everything I know.”

 

“Is she… Is she still around?” Izuku followed up. 

 

“...No,” said Edward.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Izuku, “I…” He froze, feeling a vibration in his pocket. Call from… All Might!? “I’m sorry, I need to take this.”

 

“No problem,” nodded Edward, walking off, “I’ll see you around.”

 

“Young Midoriya!” All Might bellowed, “Head to Takobah Beach! It’s time! Meet me by the spot where I declared you worthy!”

 

“Got it!” nodded Izuku, running up the street.

 

He was waiting at a park bench, in his shrunken form, despite the heroic voice he greeted him with. The greatest hero stood up, looking side to side before activating his Quirk. 

 

“Oh… My… Goodness!” All Might declared, “Not a speck of dust left! You even cleaned beyond what I asked of you! Young Midoriya, I could not have chosen a more worthy successor. You are ready to inherit One For All.”

 

“How… How does this work, All Might?” asked Izuku, “How do you just… give someone your Quirk?”

 

The hero took a deep breath and closed his eyes as steam started to rise from his body. He slowly began to shrink down to his smaller form, as his mouth began to swell like he was holding back vomit. Finally, once the transformation was complete, he spat into his hand.

 

“This is One For All,” said All Might, holding up a red stone.

 

“W–What!?” said Izuku, staring into it, “How!? Quirks are–are–are just the results of DNA! How do you physically hold it!?”

 

“I don’t know,” said All Might, “But given how many other rules of nature One For All seems to defy, I think I can stomach this one.”

 

“So… What am I supposed to do with this?” asked Izuku, taking the red stone from his mentor.

 

“What do you think?” said All Might, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Uch…” grimaced Izuku, feeling sick to his stomach. He wiped the saliva off of it on his shirt, before taking a deep breath, and…

 

It went down like a massively oversized pill, but a moment later, he felt burning across his entire body. It was like his muscles were being torn apart and rebuilt over and over again, yet he resisted the urge to scream and simply clutched his stomach.

 

“I know,” said All Might, leaning down and placing a hand on his shoulder, “I know. Decades later, and I still remember what it felt like. You are about to have the worst night of sleep of your life, but when you wake up… you shall have strength fit for a hero.”

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Honey, are you alright!?” his mother cried as Izuku stumbled through the door.

 

“Y–Yeah,” said Izuku, “J–Just a cramp. I didn’t drink enough water.”

 

“I don’t like you doing this at night,” his mother tsked, reaching to grab him a glass, “What if you were too hurt to come home?”

 

“I know, Mom,” said Izuku, sitting down at the kitchen counter, “Don’t worry. I finished. I’m done with the beach.”

 

“Really?” his mother smilled, filling the glass with water. Izuku nodded. “Oh, honey! I’m so proud of you!”

“T–Thanks, Mom,” said Izuku, taking the glass from her, “I’m going to go get some rest. I’ve got the UA exam tomorrow!”

 

“Just… Whatever happens tomorrow, just know that I love you,” said Mom, “I’ll always love you.”

 

“Thank you, Mom,” Izuku smiled. He took a big gulp of water, the coldness soothing the pain that had spread through his entire body, before lying down on his bed and trying his best to fall asleep.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

He was underground. In a sewer, somewhere. A few feet ahead of him stood a tall, middle-aged man with a sword in each hand. His face was blurry, but he could clearly make out the symbol on his left-eye. An oroborous, with a triangle in the center. He had seen him before; he knew what the symbol meant, but somehow, he didn’t. Izuku could say with certainty that the memory and knowledge existed, yet at the same time, he could not access it. 

 

~

 

There was a flash of bright light. A moment later. He was tied up, surrounded by a few others, eyes locked on the old man with blond hair sitting on the iron throne. Beneath him was a vat of burning liquid. This, too, was familiar and foreign at the same time, as if the memories were sealed away behind an iron wall,

 

~

 

A moment later, he was back in the sewer, a man with a rat mutation staring at him with wide eyes and a hole in his chest that he had put there. As the pitiful man fell to the ground dead, Izuku could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. Who was this man? Why was he crying?

 

“He’s a part of your soul,” a voice in his head whispered, “They’ll always be a part of you, Greed!”

 

~

 

It was a nice house, well decorated with seemingly antique furniture. The man from the sewer was there, this time wearing an eyepatch to cover the tattoo on his eye and a dress shirt instead of his combat outfit. A woman and child cowered behind him as he deflected Gr–Izuku’s blow with his sword. This man was fast. He had learned as much in the sewer, but this was truly something else. 

 

“Well, maybe you can explain this, !!!$$@$?_?” he asked. The voice came from Izuku’s mouth, yet… it wasn’t his voice. “What the hell is happening to me!? Why am I seeing these things?! They keep clawing at the inside of my skull! And why are you there!? Why do I remember you, Bradley!? Tell me! Why did you destroy my possessions!?”

 

The man responded, but his deep voice was muffled, indecipherable to Izuku. They exchanged blows for a full minute. In an instant, he was pinned to the ground, the straight sword striking down at his neck.

 

It snapped against his shield. He was losing this fight. !!!$$@$?_ had already killed him once. Taking his chance, he jumped through the window. 

 

That was the rational, yet… the decision wasn’t his.

 

~

 

He was in the woods, now, in the middle of a half-destroyed wooden cabin, dimly lit by a single lantern that illuminated the blurry faces of three others. One was familiar, two were not. 

 

“Damn,” he muttted, with the same voice that was not his, “Pain in the ass prince needs to keep his mouth shut.”

 

The familiar person said something, and he responded, but again, it was muffled. Iz–Gre–uku simply stood up and walked away. The familiar voice asked him a question, and he responded sarcastically before continuing to leave, only to freeze and turn around as the familiar voice said something absolutely insane.

 

He laughed. “Team up with you!?” he asked, incredulous, “You want me to follow you!? Thanks for the laugh. Up yours, kid! This world is my possession, not yours. Now it’s a different story if you want to follow me. You’re welcome to join my team. Later.”

 

~

 

“I’ll follow you,” said the familiar voice, “I’ve thought about it and I’ve decided to join your team after all.”

 

~

 

He was a monster. A true force of nature. He had chopped through the soldiers from the north like they were nothing, even though he was supposedly the leader of their nation

 

“How ridiculous,” the monster scoffed, “Humans always make a point of out of being foolishly stubborn.”

 

“Ah, you got that right!” he yelled, kneeling on a ledge off the massive, concrete building, “Y’know, they always get so frantic in the heat of the moment. Like it’s gonna do them any good. Buuuut, pathetic as it may be, and they sure are, I prefer to side with the underdog.”

 

“Long time no see, %*@$$$$,” said the monster, “If you had any sense at all, you would have stayed out of my sight for good.”

 

“Yeah, my avarice tends to make these decisions for me,” he responded, “And right now, I want your life, !!!$$@$?_!”

 

~

 

“If you are truly a man worthy to be kind,” said the old man, “You must be able to accept some loss.”

 

“You need to rest, please!” he cried, in a different voice that still came from his throat.

 

The man chuckled. “You’re right, young lord, I need rest,” he said, “Time for this old man to find some.” There was a pain in the center of his back as the elbow struck down, and he fell to the ground. “HARDEN YOURSELF, %*@$$$$! PROTECT THE YOUNG LORD’S BODY! THIS OLD SERVANT HAS NO CHOICE BUT TO OFFER HIS RETIREMENT!”

 

“YOU STUBBORN FOOL!” the two voices that were his yet not his cried in unison.

 

“I’M TAKING YOU STRAIGHT TO HELL WITH ME, BRADLEY!” the old man yelled, “YOU BASTARD!”

 

The beast was too fast. The suicidal charge was futile, the monster sliced off the wicks of his bombs before they could blow. It had seemed to all be in vane, until a moment later…

 

~

 

They were finally working in unison. The soldiers on either side and of all ranges worked together to take down their common foe. Mortars and bullets and flames and fists all combined against the enemy of their specie. It was ironic. They finally learned to act as one, only for the purpose of being subsumed into one.

 

“Once I have this supreme power,” the first voice said, practically salivating, “Everything in the world will be mine! Who knows? Maybe we’ll fill the emptiness inside me! An achievement like that can finally quench the thirst within me that I’ve lived with since the day I was born!”

 

“How ignorant you are,” scoffed the second voice, “What you seek is not what you truly want.”

 

“Keep quiet, you little pest!” the first snapped, “I am %*@$$$$ the avaricious! I want everything!”

 

~

 

“Wonderful,” It said, “You’re just in time, %*@$$$$. What a dutiful son you are. As it happens, I could use another Philosopher’s Stone. I’ll be taking yours.”

 

He cried out in pain, like his entire essence was being destroyed. It’s face was blurry, yet Izuku could still make out a cocky smirk, only for it to vanish as the screaming ceased.

 

“Good acting, right?” said %*@$$$$, “You can’t take my stone from me without dropping your own barrier! I bet you never thought your Godly powers could be taken away!”

 

The two struggled for dominance, each trying to rip out the powers of the other while the humans futilely struggled to make a difference. Finally, though, It forced them all back, and suddenly, just as its powers began to fail it.

 

~

 

“%*@$$$$,” said the second voice, “This is what you desperately wanted, isn’t it?”

 

He watched in silence as the humans cheered on their champion. Hundreds of voices cried out at once as the boy threw himself at It. Their great powers had long since fallen by the wayside in favor of brute strength.

 

“Yeah, you’re right,” %*@$$$$ conceded, “I wanted the chance to have friends like these.”

 

As It fell to the ground, a triumphant cry echoed across the plaza, but to those who had access to higher knowledge, there was no celebrating. It’s body began to swell as red energy blasted them all back.

 

“Pull yourself together, damn it!” %*@$$$$ yelled, catching a blown-away soldier, “Stay on your feet, moron!”

 

“The stooonnneee–” It screeched, “PHILOSOPHER’S STONE!” A second later, %*@$$$$ looked down to see his arm stabbed into his chest. “Give me your stone, %*@$$$$. Be a good son!”

 

~

 

They were in a void of red, full of agony, pain, and… desire. A red face, and a young boy. Izuku could only watch from the sidelines, unable to move. They were being pulled somewhere. Somewhere dark. Somewhere they did not want to go.

 

“DAMN IT, NO!” the face yelled, as the boy held onto him for dear life.

 

“FIGHT IT, %*@$$$$!” the boy yelled.

 

“LET GO, DUMBASS,” the face yelled, “YOU’RE GONNA GET DRAGGED IN WITH ME!”

 

“NO WAY!” the boy countered, “I’M NOT LETTING YOU GO THAT EASILY! I NEED YOU WITH ME IF I’M GONNA BE EMPEROR!”

 

“JUST LET GO!” the face yelled, “MY ENTIRE BEING WAS EXTRACTED FROM HIS GREED. AND THE POWER THAT’S TRYING TO RECLAIM ME IS A HELL OF A LOT STRONGER THAN YOUR BODY!”

 

“YOU CAN’T JUST GIVE UP! TOUGHEN UP!” yelled the boy, as his arm started to disintegrate, “Oh no… MY BODY! I WON’T LET GO!”

 

“Y’know…” the face said, “It’s not quite as ideal as ruler of the world, but I can make do as Emperor of Xing. Let’s fight him together, eh partner?”

 

“That’s more like it,” the boy smirked, only to get smacked in the face and lose his grip on the face.

 

The face laughed as he was dragged off. “It’s time to say goodbye, kid,” said the face, “There’s no point in you getting sucked into my old man with me!”

 

“Hold on a second, %*@$$$$!” the boy yelled, “You said we’d fight together, didn’t you!? You can’t just suckerpunch me like that!? How could you lie!? You always said you don’t believe in telling lies! It can’t end this way!”

 

“HA HA HA! You fell for it, hook, line, and sinker, you little pissant!” said the face, “That was the one and only lie of my life!”

 

“DON’T DO THIS!” yelled the boy. 

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

Izuku practically fell out of bed, body drenched in sweat. What the hell was that dream!? Who were those people!? What was that… that… that thing !?

 

There was no time to think about it, he decided, rising to his feet and pulling off the tee-shirt he had slept in. 

 

He had an exam he needed to get to.

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“A cousin,” repeated Overhaul.

 

“That’s what Kusumoto told me,” said Kurono, “He has your Quirk and your eyes, but different color hair.”

 

“I’ve got no family,” said Overhaul. “None that I know, at least. You said he had my Quirk?”

 

“Something very similar,” said Kuruno, “Combine that with the eyes, and… who knows? That’s not the craziest thing, though. Kusumoto destroyed one of his underlings’ Quirks.”

 

“...Look into this, Kuruno,” Overhaul ordered. “Find this kid. If Kusumoto is lying to us, put a bullet in him.”

 

“And if not?” asked Kurono.

 

“Bring him to me,” Overhaul ordered, “If he can destroy Quirks, he might be the key to saving society.”

Notes:

That's right, One For All is motherfuckin` Greed, baby!

How? Why? What will the ramifications of this be on Midoriya? Is he basically a hommunculi now?

Tune in next week to see none of these questions get answered yet, but it'll probably be a fun time.

Oh yeah, also Overhaul exists.

Chapter 9: Testing the Waters

Summary:

Ed figures out what to do next while Izuku...

He has an interesting time at the UA exam.

“Thanks for letting me crash here, Himiko,” said Ed, lying down on his freshly transmuted mattress, “The beach was getting a little too crowded for my liking.”

 

When her… friend, she supposed, knocked on her door last night and asked her if he could stay, she was hesitant to say yes. Not because she mistrusted him, Ed was probably the nicest person she had ever met, but because she wasn’t sure if she could trust herself around him. He was so vulnerable last night, lying there asleep, and she had a knife. How long could she resist that voice in her head, the one that constantly wondered how beautiful he would look coated in his own blood.

 

“Sure,” she muttered, sitting with her knees to her chest on a mattress he had created for her, “How long do you… do you think you’ll be staying?”

 

“A few days, probably,” he shrugged, “I need to figure out some things. I kinda lost my best way to make money, but I’ve got enough to tide me over for a few weeks if I budget right.”

 

“Something happened at the junkyard?” she asked.

 

“...I guess,” shrugged Ed, “There were these two guys trying to intimidate Yuichi. Said they worked for a guy named Kusumoto. I stopped ‘em, but it made him mad for some reason. He told me never to show my face again.”

 

 

“You idiot,” she muttered, throwing a pebble from the ground at him, “Did you really pick a fight with the Yakuza by accident? No wonder he told you to leave.”

 

“The Yakuza?” said Ed, sitting up straight.

 

“Yeah, you know… organized crime?” she said. Did Ed seriously not know what the Yakuza was? How could someone so… so… so competent be such an idiot? “What were they asking him for?”

 

“I think they wanted him to fix up some cars for them or something,” said Ed, scratching his chin.

 

“And you beat them up,” said Himiko. Ed nodded. “Then that’s why he was pissed, Ed! What if they come back?”

 

Ed reached into his pocket and pulled out a small container. “I don’t think they’re coming back,” he muttered.

 

“You couldn’t have beaten them up that bad,” said Himiko, “That’s how the Yakuza works. Even if you stop ‘em once, they’ll come back later. And they don’t take kindly to being stood up to. They rely on people being scared of them, and they get that through numbers and cruelty. So my guess is, in a few days, they’ll be back with more of both.”

 

“Why don’t they just go to the police!?” asked Ed, “Isn’t that what they’re there for?”

 

“Yeah, they can call the cops if the Yakuza are there there, but they’ll just leave and wait for them to go away,” Himiko explained, “We have to live in these streets, the cops just visit.”

 

“So…” Ed began, a smirk appearing on his face, “You’re saying I have to deal with these guys instead.”

 

“Edward Elric, that is entirely not what I am saying,” sighed Himiko, “A, that’s illegal. B, they’ll kill you. C, what if they take it out on the Hatsumes!?”

 

“A, laws are stupid,” countered Ed, “B, I’d like to see them try. C, you said they were going to go after the Hatsumes anyway. If I want to keep them safe, that’s the only way to make sure, isn’t it?”

 

“I never said they were going to go after the Hatsumes,” Himiko pointed out, “I just said they were going to be back. They’ll probably smash a few things and maybe force out some free repairs or something, but they won’t do anything serious. Unless they feel the need to make a point! Which they very much might if you start going after them!”

 

“So am I just supposed to cower in fear or something!?” said Ed, standing up, “Stand back and let people suffer from a mess I caused?”

 

“No, but you don’t need to put a target on your back,” countered Himiko, “And in case you didn’t notice, the Hatsumes aren’t the only ones in the blast radius.”

 

“I… I’m sorry,” said Ed, sitting back down, “I’ll leave if you want me to. But I can’t just sit around and stand back when people are in danger.”

 

“...I don’t want you to leave,” Himiko confessed, “But I don’t want you to die, Ed. You’re… You’re my first friend. How depressing is that? I’m sixteen, and you’re just some guy I met a week ago, but you’re my first friend.”

 

“...Pretty depressing,” conceded Ed, “Hey, it’s not like I’m doing much better. You’re my only friend around these parts. But I’m not going to die, Himiko. I’ve fought worse than them.”

 

“God…” she muttered, “You’re talking like you’re some kind of hero. I finally made a friend, and he’s a wannabe hero with a death wish. Just my luck. Well… if you’re doing this, then I’m helping you.”

 

“Himiko, I–” Ed began.

 

“I’m not fighting anyone for you,” she interrupted, “But no offense, Ed, you’re about as subtle as a brick wall. I don’t know how someone that short and skinny can be that… loud. Plus, y’know, you’re hopelessly naive.”

 

“ I’m hopelessly naive?” said Ed.

 

“Naive, sappy, optimistic, whatever,” shrugged Himiko, “Let me help you.”

 

“Fine,” he shrugged, “But… how do you know so much about the Yakuza, Himiko?”

 

“Edward, you don’t end up running away from home to go slumming it in an entirely different city if the one you grew up in was all sunshine and roses,” she chided, “I’d still be back home if I thought I could’ve gone more than eight hours without getting stabbed in an alley. By the way… You might want to look into a disguise if you’re going to be getting into some light… oh what the hell am I saying, some extreme vigilantism.”

 

Edward nodded before cracking his knuckles and pressing both hands on the ground. His Quirk activated, and the ground contorted, shooting up and taking a new form. When the dust cleared, sitting there was a steel helmet, with a protruding jaw and a spike sticking out of its forehead.

 

“Cool design,” said Himiko, raising an eyebrow, “So… Did you just have this design picked out for weeks or were you just improvising?”

 

“It’s… complicated,” said Ed, picking up the helmet and brushing off the dust.

 

“Wait here for me,” she ordered, getting up from her mattress. “I’m going to do some investigating. See what I can find out about this Kusumoto person.”

 

“Are you sure that’s safe?” asked Ed.

 

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, “I’m just going to look around.”

____________________________________________________________________________

 

Oh God…

 

How could things have gone this wrong? Izuku hadn’t gotten a single point.  He had let All Might down. He let everyone who believed in him down. Izuku Midoriya would never be a hero. He couldn’t even follow the rules about not fighting the zero-pointer!

 

And, of course, he was about to die, plummeting to the ground at terminal velocity with three broken limbs. Idly, he wondered if All Might would be able to reclaim his Quirk from what was going to become of his body. If it could be physically separated and given to another person, surely they could extract it from his remains. Maybe with a juicer or something. Yeesh. That wasn’t a pleasant thought.

 

At least he saved that cute girl. Her gravity Quirk was amazing. She was definitely getting into UA with all the robots she blew up. Izuku was pretty sure he could see her from here, that tiny speck on the ground crawling toward his probable impact sight.

 

Maybe… His left arm wasn’t broken. He summoned the power of One For All, his… Quirk, and the red electricity surrounded the limb. If he timed it just right, just maybe he could save himself. It would hurt his back, he imagined, sending himself crashing into the building, but it was better than, well… dying. 

 

He… He… He…

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

The Ninth was falling to his doom, and was incapable of preventing it. Uch. What a pityful host this was. The Eighth hadn’t provided much either, immediately, but at least he had a dream, one that would satisfy his hunger. Eighth had ambition. Ambition to be the best. To be something new, different, and powerful. To sit at the top of society on a marble pillar. 

 

His previous hosts didn’t necessarily have that, but they had some great ambition he could feed upon. The Second’s anger and desperation for vengeance were palpable. Third sought to bring justice into this world. Fourth had a hunger for power that tasted like ambrosia on his non-existent tongue. Fifth and Sixth simply avariciously clung onto to One For All to such an extent that they were able to resist its theft. Seventh loved, and loved deeply. She loved her family, friends, and protege, which was a feeling he himself had long personally had a hunger for.

 

This one, though, he was insufferably selfless. Being in this body was damn near uncomfortable for a creature such as himself. He didn’t hunger for power or vengeance; there was no ambition within him. All he wanted was to help other people. He reminded him of First, in a way.

 

Still, he supposed he ought to intervene. The Philosopher’s Stone had grown powerful enough for him to exert himself. Perhaps not strong enough to take over should Ninth resist like he could with Ling, but he had enough power to do this. It would be… inconvenient if he died before passing him on to a new host. 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

A moment later, his eyes opened and Izuku regained consciousness. He was on the ground, in extraordinary pain, but… the same amount of pain as earlier. It was largely confined to his extremities, which had all been broken by the power of his Quirk. Not the type of pain someone who just fell hundreds of feet into solid concrete should be feeling. Not the pain of a shattered spine or cracked ribs or hunks of rubble piercing his torso.

 

“Oh, thank God!” a voice from above him yelled. It was the cute girl. “I was so scared when you hit the ground. I–I tried to catch you, but… Let me give you a hand.”

 

“How… I’m alive?” Izuku muttered. He hadn’t done anything to save himself. How could he? He… He was unconscious. There was a strange sensation in his chest. Not painful, just strange. Was that One For All he felt? When he was out of here, he was definitely calling All Might. 

 

The girl climbed down into the crater. Izuku did his best to move and join her, but… his legs didn’t respond to his movements, and so he just lay prone, allowing her to remove his gravity and carry him out of the pit.

 

Neither Izuku nor the girl with pink cheeks noticed the shell of ultra-hard black carbon retract into his skin as they floated up to solid ground.

____________________________________________________________________________

“Alright, Ed,” said Himiko, speaking through the walkie-talkie he had transmuted for them this morning, “I did some recon for you. This Kusumoto guy runs most of the low-level street crime in Musutafu. Drugs, prostitution, that kind of stuff. He also runs a lot of the collection rackets from the local shops and whatnot, so… definitely the same Kusumoto.”

“You work quick,” Ed commented, leaning on the ledge of the rooftop, “So why’d you ask me to come out here?”

 

“Do you see the two guys in the alley?” asked Himiko. Ed nodded before remembering she couldn’t see him.

 

“Yeah,” he said, peering across the street.

 

“They work for him,” she explained, “I assume, at least. If they’re selling drugs in his part of town, then they have to know him. So… beat them up, I guess.”

“You’re a fountain of tactical wisdom,” he said, putting on his helmet. He had transmuted the dye of his fabric to create a black pigment and had pulled up the hood, which Himiko assured him would make him vaguely resemble a hero, while a steel staff was slung over his back. Normally, he would have created himself a weapon midfight, but he was going to resist using his alchemy as much as possible during this fight to hide his connection to the Hatsumes.

 

Ed knelt down and took a deep breath. This next move he was about to pull wasn’t something he had particularly practiced, but he figured he ought to introduce himself in style. Both hands were pressed against the rooftop, which contorted into a pillar that launched him across the street.

 

“What the hell!?” one of the gangsters yelled as Ed landed behind them. A quick chop to the leg sent him tumbling to the ground, before he knocked the other down with his staff.

 

“Who… Who are you!?” the other yelled.

 

“Uh…” 

 

Shit. Out of all the preparation he had done, Ed hadn’t even thought of a name. Didn’t all heroes have names? He wasn’t a hero, but he was, apparently, a vigilante. And a vigilante was someone who pretended to be a hero, so… shouldn’t he pretend to have a hero name?

 

“It’s Fullmetal,” Ed declared, holding the staff to the gangster’s neck. “Now… Tell me about your boss.”

 

“Oh, you’ve done it now!” yelled the first goon, getting to his feet and charging at him. Ed ducked under his punch, before jamming one end of his staff into the man’s gut, ducking around him as he stumbled, and whacking him over the back of the head. By now, the second one had recovered and was reaching into his back pocket, probably for a gun, and so Ed chucked his staff at him like a spear. The end of the stone rod struck him right in the forehead, causing the gun he was drawing to fall from his hand. Ed wouldn’t waste this opening. He rushed forward, kicking the gun aside and picking up his staff from the ground, which he slammed into the gangster’s side.

 

“Son of a–” he yelled, crashing into the wall, “I’ll kill you!”

 

“Uh huh,” sighed Ed, transmuting the staff into restraints around his enemies off, “Before you do that, I’ve got a few questions for you. Where’s your boss? I need to have a few words with him.”

 

“If you think…” spat the gangster, “I’m gonna go down that easy… THEN YOU’VE GOT ANOTHER THING COMING!”

 

DIIING!

 

The gangster’s skull crashed into Edward, forcing him backward only to himself slump to the ground, unconscious.

 

Uch. Did this idiot forget he was wearing a helmet? Thank God his head was turned slightly sideways, if he had been looking forward, he might have impaled himself on Ed’s horn. But, alas, there was no way he was getting any answers out of him now. He transmuted away the restraints back into the ground and turned his helmet into an iron rod that he clipepd onto a belt loop, before stepping out of the alley.

 

“Himiko,” he spoke into the walkie-talkie

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Hey, Yuichi,” called Mei, stepping out from her workshop, “Any chance you’ve seen Ed around?”

 

“No,” said Yuichi, unscrewing the door from a microwave. 

 

“He hasn’t been around in a few days,” she observed, “Do you have any idea where he went?”

 

“No,” lied Yuichi.

 

“Well… If you see him,” said Mei, “Can you let him know I’ve got his blueprints ready?”

 

“Sure,” he said, as his sister returned to her lair.

 

He hoped the kid was doing all right. Yuichi would fully admit he felt like shit about what happened, but he would do it again in a heartbeat. If he had just stood by and done nothing, everything would have been fine. Those two goons might have gotten a little rough with him, but Yuichi had taken his fair share of beatings before. They wouldn’t have done anything serious to him. Kusumoto was just posturing, trying to scare Yuichi into working with him. They were, unfortunately, family.

 

But Ed, Edward was just some random kid. Kusumoto wouldn’t hesitate to put him in the ground for what he had done, and if Yuichi was hiding him, what affection he still had for their parents wouldn’t protect him and Mei. If the choice was between keeping his sister safe and helping some kid he had only met a week ago, then there was no choice. Besides, this was probably the first place they would look for him. He was better off on his own. There were fewer first ends.

 

Yuichi just hoped Ed understood the implications of what he had done by sticking his neck out. He, personally, knew what the Yakuza was capable of. And he would be damned if he let what happened to Mom and Dad happen to Mei. Yuichi wouldn’t do anything to let her get sucked into that life like they were, even if it meant living in a shithole like here when he could be doing so much more with his life. 

 

“Hey, Yuichi,” called a voice from the gate. Grimacing, he got up from his work and turned around to see Kusumoto. “Look, I’m not here to argue. Where’s the kid?”

 

“I don’t know,” said Yuichi, “I just do business with him sometimes. He’s not a friend.”

 

“Yuichi, listen to me,” said Kusumoto, walking up to him, “I’m not gonna hurt the kid, I promise. But you need to tell me now if you know him or not. Because if I can’t find him, they’re gonna start looking. And as much as you despise me, trust me, you’d rather hash this shit out with me than whoever they send.”

 

“...I really don’t know where he is,” said Yuichi.

 

“I swear on your mother’s soul, Yuichi,” Kusumoto promised, “I ain’t gonna hurt the kid. I just wanna talk to him.”

 

Yuichi’s eyes widened. He had never seen Kusumoto like this before. A part of him wanted to relish in the panic in his eyes, but he just… couldn’t. Maybe it was pity, maybe it was fear. He wasn’t sure. 

 

“I swear to God, Kus, I don’t know where he is,” said Yuichi, “He’s some street rat. Try a shelter or something.”

 

“Alright,” nodded Kusumoto, “If someone else comes asking about him, be honest. There’s nothing I can do to help you out if they lie to you, alright?”

 

“...Ok,” nodded Yuichi.

 

“Tell Mei to give me a call if anything happens to you,” said Kusumoto, walking back toward the gate.

 

“You know I’m not going to do that,” Yuichi spat, “I want her as far away from you and your kind as possible. I’m not going to let her follow that path.”

 

“I don’t give a shit about that anymore, Yuichi,” said Kusomoto, “The stakes are bigger now. I figure I owe it to you after getting you two involved in this goddamn mess. If I somehow make it out of this and you don’t, the least you could let me do is pay the rent.”

Notes:

Shoutout to ScholarlyNanobot for totally calling it.

In less happy news, there's a chance this fic might be going on break in a bit. I've been going through a bad patch of writer's block recently. We'll see if it passes before my backlog runs out.

Chapter 10: Introspection

Summary:

Ed contemplates how his own path has changed him and then helps Midoriya find out what lies at his core.

Notes:

I have once again shoe-horned the Count of Monte Cristo into a fic I wrote.

“Damn it!” Kusumoto yelled, slamming his fists down on his desk. “Why the hell do I bother keeping you around!? It’s been a week, and you haven’t found the kid. AND there’s now some piece of shit vigilante taking out our guys. What the hell do I pay you people for!? Get out. GET OUT!”

 

His underlings all scrambled to run out of his office, leaving the mafioso sitting all alone. God, this was a fucking mess. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out the small, orange, plastic bottle, pouring out a pill that he swallowed with a sip of water. The doctors had put him on a new heart medication a few weeks ago, and this whole disaster wasn’t helping him. It was a god damn humiliation, that’s what it was. He couldn’t find a random kid in his city, and everyone knew about it. He was screwing up a job from the Hassaikai, that kind of thing didn’t stay private. The Yakuza was a small world. People talked. His failure became gossip when the old men sat down for tea.

 

And that was only half the problem. Not being able to find that kid was embarrassing, but this damn vigilante was causing financial problems. He attacked a dozen of his men over the past week, and half of those were arrested by the police shortly after. That meant he not only had to find replacements, which was expensive, but he also needed to up security. Two-man crews that used to be able to hold corners by themselves needed to be replaced with three and four-man ones. Expanding his personnel was immediately expensive in ways beyond just doubling his labor costs. It took time and money to find reliable guys. Sometimes people needed gear or guns to be effective. The infrastructure he used to pay his men could only take so much money down the pipes before it needed to be expanded. Doing all this stuff also came with operating costs beyond the simple price of doing it. If he ordered his lieutenants to hire a dozen more guys, not only would he have to absorb the costs of it, but the lieutenants would also have to expend some sort of compensation for it. It was a mess, plain and simple.

 

The worst part of it, though, was that this vigilante was, apparently, insufferably small. It would be one thing if his men were getting their asses kicked by some guy who was built by a brick wall like that Knuckleduster guy he had heard about in Naruhauata, but the one he had to deal with was incredibly short according to what his men had told him. This wasn’t the case. The vigilante was short. Like, less than 150 centimeters short. It was almost funny. They lived in a world of super-powers, where one’s exterior appearance didn’t necessarily have any bearing on what they were physically capable of, and yet, size still mattered to people.

 

Kusumoto was a prime example of this. His Quirk was more or less a photographic memory, an ability that existed long before Quirks. He had used it to set himself up as an extremely successful counterfeiter back when he was in his twenties. But he was, at the same time, 190 centimeters and, when he was a young man, at least, he was quite muscular. There was no reason he should rule these streets by virtue of his capacity for violence. To be honest, he was actually quite personally squeamish. Yet people saw him, and they assumed he was something else, and so they feared and respected him. His… peers, whom he towered over, deferred to him, despite the fact that plenty of them could have turned him into mince-meat with their Quirks.

 

Uch. That little pipsqueak vigilante was probably laughing at them. He had no idea what was coming for him. It was just a shame that getting rid of him meant him sticking his nose in Kusumoto’s business.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

Ed would admit it, he was getting value out of having that shard of a Philosopher’s Stone on him. He wasn’t actually using it, of course. There was no need for it. But having such a collection of intense emotion and great power just sitting in his pocket was really good practice for mastering the Dragon’s Pulse. He was essentially learning a sense. It was as if he was practicing seeing, and the stone was a bright light, or he was practicing touching, and the stone was a burning-hot object. Just having it on him and being aware of its pain and power made it easier to casually feel the life force of people around him. He still needed to consciously take the effort, like the default was having his eyes closed or ears plugged, and he had to think to open them, but he didn’t need to go through the whole effort of closing his eyes and deeply focusing to do so.

 

The stone shard had started to dominate his daily visits to the library. Instead of meditating and trying to get in touch with the pulse, he had been focusing on that piece of stone. Feeling the pain and agony inside of it. Using his Alchemy to understand it on a molecular level. Marcoh’s notes hadn’t explained how he could destroy a stone with Alchemy, Ed needed to figure it out on himself. Plus, his… Hohenheim had been able to talk to his stone and turn them against Father. Perhaps if he could do the same, he could convince the stones to aid him in his attempt to, well, destroy them. He had to imagine the souls inside a stone were a tad suicidal. Unfortunately, it appeared that whatever souls were in this stone were too incomplete to carry a conversation, or perhaps Ed just wasn’t trying hard enough.

 

“Hey, Edward,” called a familiar voice, causing Ed to pocket the vial, “My husband packed me an extra lunch again. Do you want it?”

“What is this, the third time, Miss Nobuko?” said Ed, as the librarian sat down next to him at the computer desk.

 

“He’s always been forgetful,” she smiled, pulling out two of what they called a bento box, one of which she handed to Ed. He felt a bit ashamed, taking advantage of her generosity, but in his sixteen years of life, he would never, ever turn down free food.

 

“What does he do for a living?” he enquired, prying open the plastic lid and revealing the pork cutlet and rice on the inside. 

 

“He’s a pediatrician,” she explained, pulling out two pairs of chopsticks, one metal, the other the wooden kind he had seen being handed out at restaurants. “He works down at the hospital. That’s how we ended up here, actually. We lived out in the country. Small town, less than ten thousand people. I was a teacher, he was a doctor, then he managed to land a job here in Musutafu that paid more than both of our previous salaries put together, so… here we are. How about you, Ed, are you from Musutafu?”

“It’s… It’s kind of a long story,” Ed said, rubbing the back of his neck. Miss Nobuko had been nothing but kind to him, and he really didn’t like the idea of lying to her. Time to change the subject. “Oh, by the way, I finished that book the blue haired guy gave me.”

Ed reached into the back pocket of his coat and pulled out the book he had borrowed from the blue-haired man and set it down on the table.

 

“What did you think of it,” Nobuko inquired, picking it up.

 

“I… It was alright,” he shrugged.

 

“C’mon, you read a twelve-hundred page book and your only thought was ‘it’s alright’?” she smirked, “I expected more from you considering how often you’re in here.”

 

“The… The guy in the book loved a girl,” he said, picking at his cutlet, “And she loved him back. They were childhood friends. But then he went through hell. She moved on. And at the end of it… she didn’t love him anymore. Is that how things work? Do people just… move on like that?”

 

“He was a different person at the end,” said Nobuko, “Hell changed him. The boy who entered was a different person when he crawled out a man. In a way… he didn’t entirely leave. Something within him died in that prison. I don’t think the girl ever stopped loving him. She didn’t change. He did. Maybe… Maybe if he had stood strong and resisted the pressure, she still could have loved him. But either way, that boy found love eventually. There was still a woman who loved him for who he was.”

 

“Do you think… Do you think he stopped loving her?” asked Ed.

 

“I don’t know,” shrugged Nobuko, “He had to, at least a little. But… It was probably for the best that he didn’t. Not in the same way.”

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

There was something special that came from enjoying the fruits of one’s labor. Izuku Midoriya had learned that well. Today was by no means a beautiful day, in the teens Celsius with a cloudy sky, certainly not beach weather, but he felt more comfortable lying here on the beach that he had cleaned than on any number of the beach trips he had gone to in the past.

 

Physically, he was comfortable, but mentally, he was… troubled. Izuku had received his acceptance letter last night. He had gotten into UA, against all odds. That brought him some ease, but it was quickly drowned out by the flood which was the true cause of his stress: those dreams. There had been the same one every night, becoming stronger each time. The fog and blurry faces become thinner  and clearer every time he fell asleep. He had even heard a few letters from one of the garbled names, the one of the dream’s protagonist. It began with a G and ended with a D. Sometimes he was watching from that man’s eyes, sometimes he was a spectator. The man with the red eyes and long, dark hair that he wore tied back. He was ten or so centimeters taller than him, a bit leaner but still well-built, and had a perpetual scoff on his face.

 

It couldn’t be a coincidence that these memories had appeared the night he had gotten One For All. He wanted to broach the subject with All Might, but hesitated each time his figner hovered over the call button. There was no one else he could speak with, and he resolved to if these dreams continued. But… 

 

What if it this had nothing to do with this Quirk? What if he was just crazy? What if it did have something to do with One For All but All Might still decided it was an Izuku Midoriya problem? He didn’t want his mentor to regret his decision. He couldn’t do that to All Might, not after he had almost failed the entrance exam. 

 

“Hey, Midoriya!” called a voice from the sidewalk.

 

“Oh, Edward!” called Izuku, standing up.

 

“How’d the entrance exam go?” asked Edward.

 

“I got it!” said Izuku, “I really appreciated your pointers.”

“No problem,” he smirked, “I… I…” 

 

The smirk disappeared from his face as his stance shifted. It was defensive, like he was about to be attacked. His eyes shifted up and down, like a deer staring at someone who had just stepped on a branch, while he seemed to fiddle with something in his pocket.

 

“Is… Is everything alright?” Izuku asked.

 

“...Yeah,” said Edward, although Izuku didn’t believe it. He visibly calmed down, taking a deep breath and stretching his back. “I gotta ask you the same thing. You look tired.”

“Oh, I… I haven’t been sleeping well,” Izuku admitted, scratching the back of his head. He couldn’t let on too much information, but he didn’t want to lie to Edward. By no means was he a resident expert on friendship, but he was sure that they didn’t qualify. But Izuku wanted to get closer to him, he had done some research on the internet and a lot of people recommended that you ought to try and get close to people who might have a difficult home situation before helping them. “I’ve had a lot of bad dreams recently.” 

 

There. That was a good compromise between his conflicting feelings.

 

“I… I might know something that can help you,” said Edward, “Just… bear with me. It might seem weird, but it might help.”

 

“Alright?” said Izuku, as Edward sat down on the beach.

 

“Have you ever tried meditation?” he asked, as Izuku sat down across from him. Izuku shook his head. He had always been a bit too jittery for things that generally involved extreme patience. “A lot of the time, bad dreams can be caused by stress, so it’s not surprising that you’ve been having them considering you just had what might be the biggest exam of your entire life.”

 

“Maybe,” said Izuku, guilt running down his spine. He was wasting his time trying to help, and Izuku was just letting it happen to avoid the truth. These dreams were too specific to be stress induced. 

 

“I’m not gonna pretend I’m an expert in this,” Edward continued, “But I’ve gotten a lot of use out of this recently. Close your eyes and start breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Just… feel the ground underneath you. Be cognizant of the movement of the earth. Think about how it’s constantly shifting underneath you. How it’s always spinning.”

That last line was… not really what he expected, but Izuku gave it his best shot. The two sat on the beach and simply breathed for a few minutes. It was difficult not to sit still, but someone was going out of their way to help him, so he decided to give it his best shot.

 

“I know this might sound weird,” said Ed, “But please, bear with me. Tell me about your Quirk.”

Izuku’s eyes widened, but he quickly slammed them shut. Did he know something was wrong with his Quirk!? How!? How could he have gleamed that from simply hearing he was having bad dreams!?

 

“It’s… It’s complicated,” Izuku decided to say after a few moments, “Up until last week… I thought I was Quirkless. I first used it only yesterday. The doctors say it’s a stockpiling Quirk that only just built up enough power to be used after all the training I did, and the stress of the exam is what let me unlocked it.”

“So… You went into that exam thinking you were Quirkless?” Edward asked. Izuku nodded. “Wow. Could you… show me this Quirk?”

“It’s a bit dangerous,” said Izuku, “I broke all my limbs when I used it yesterday.”

“What!?” said Edward, causing Izuku to open his eyes again, “Sorry. How?”

“It had too much power for me to control,” Izuku explained, “When I released it by hitting something, it overwhelmed my body.”

“Could you… just not hit anything?” asked Ed, “Like… turn on your Quirk and then turn it off.”

 

Huh. He never thought of that before. It might be a good way to get used to this power before he actually had to use it in combat, at the very least. He took a deep breath, and activated One For All in his right arm, before opening his eyes. There was a worried, and perhaps slightly angry look on Edward’s face that quickly disappeared after he took a deep breath.

 

“So… why did you want to see it?” asked Izuku.

 

“This… This is going to sound strange,” said Ed, “But… can you feel your Quirk inside of you?”

“You mean… in my arm?” asked Izuku, “Because… it really hurts, just holding it.”

“No, like…” Edward said, pausing to scratch his chin, “In your whole body. Do you feel anything?”

“I’ll… I’ll try,” grimaced Izuku, taking a deep breath before spreading the energy from his arm into the rest of his body. 

 

Woah… This… This was a strange sensation. But not bad-strange. Just… Just strange. He didn’t feel like his arm was about to explode anymore. There was still a strong pressure throughout his entire body, but it was much lighter than what he had felt earlier. He’d have to look into this as a possible solution for his bones breaking.

 

“Do you feel anything?” asked Edward, “Anything inside yourself? Look into yourself, inside your Quirk, what do you see? What do you feel?”

Izuku frowned, but tried to follow the advice. He wasn’t one for spiritualism, but considering how helpful this had the potential to be, he’d do his best to follow that esoteric advice. It helped that he at least had a reference for what his Quirk actually looked like. He pictured that deep red stone he had swallowed and envisioned it within his body. He imagined himself looking inside it, trying to feel something, anything from it.

 

Suddenly, with no prompting, a hundred voices screamed at once, and Izuku quickly joined them. It was as if his chest was on fire and his brain was simultaneously being stabbed by a thousand needles. He quickly deactivated his Quirk as he fell backward onto the sand, heavily panting.

 

“What… What was that?” he asked, staring at Edward in disbelief.

 

“I don’t know,” said Edward, standing up, “But if you want my advice, you’re not going to fix whatever is causing your problem by ignoring it. You’ve gotta stare into that abyss and see what you find, Midoriya. Even if it hurts.”

“Quirks… They aren’t alive,” said Izuku, staring up into the sky, “Why did I feel pain?”

“I don’t know,” Ed repeated, “You said it was a stockpiling Quirk, though. Maybe it stockpiled something else as well. If it’s holding in pain, it probably came from somewhere.”

____________________________________________________________________________

 

He hoped that was enough of a clue to help Midoriya find some inner peace without giving away the truth. And it needed to stay a mystery, for both of their sakes. It was painful enough for Ed to contemplate, and he was a man who had dedicated his lives to studying the nature of the universe. To a regular person, he could only imagine what that kind of knowledge might do. Besides, how would Midoriya, a seemingly nice guy who genuinely wanted to help people, take knowing that the powers of him and the heroes he aspired to be were born of human misery. 

 

But Edward Elric had been a soldier his entire life. He knew what the military on his world would have done if they found out there were other worlds out there that could be travelled between. And he couldn’t ignore the obvious fact that Midoriya had a full and complete Philosoher’s Stone inside of him, or at least enough shards to constitute one. In effect, there was little separating him from a homunculus, and it hadn’t just spontaneously happened as Midoriya claimed. Even if his ability to sense the Dragon’s Pulse was weak when they first met, Edward had to imagine he would have picked up on it to some extent. Either Midoriya had somehow found a stone, or someone did this to him.

 

Ed wasn’t sure which possibility was more concerning. Whichever was true, it probably meant Izuku Midoriya knew what Quirks were or someone close to him did. And he couldn’t risk letting him know that he knew the truth as well.

 

Besides, he couldn’t spend all evening helping Midoriya. His hand rested on the iron bar clipped around his belt as he made his way through the streets of Musutafu, heading toward where Himiko told him to meet her.

 

There was work to do.

Notes:

Some of you might be surprised at the lack of a scene depicting Greed's shock at seeing Edward here. I figured I would clear this up now because quite a few people were mentioning it in the comments of previous chapters.

Minor spoilers ahead.

Full Metal Alchemist doesn't really show us Greed's perspective while Ling is in charge of his own body. We honestly don't see a ton of Ling when Greed is in control. It isn't entirely clear whether the person in the back seat can see or hear what's going on. Ling, in particular, makes things murky, as while he knew what was going on when Greed killed Bido and regained his memory, this is also Ling, who is Xingese and thus uniquely gifted in matters of perception. He doesn't need his eyes to know who someone is necessarily.

Generally speaking, I am under the opinion that if you choose to write a continuation or addition to someone else's work, you need to be very clear about what changes to fundamental mechanics you make. I, arguably, have not been doing a good job of that, but uncovering what exactly those changes are is a part of this story and I intend on fully describing how Quirks work at some point in the future.

I, however, do not know if I intend to go into depth about how Greed's possession works mechanically within the realm of the story. The reason for that is simple. They didn't do so in FMA Brotherhood. This isn't a super deep part of the lore of that world in the same way regular alchemy is. Therefore, I feel entitled to take certain creative liberties with how it functions in this story. You can argue my formulation is unfaithful to the original work, but it's not like Father goes into depth about how it functions and it's not like we have countless case studies to draw from.

Now, as to how it functions, Greed cannot see or hear or feel what Izuku is feeling. Rather, as their 'souls' are so close together and intertwined, Greed can get a vague sense of what is going on simply by 'reading' Izuku's souls and getting glimpses into Izuku's memories from time to time. This is a two-way street, of course. We've already seen Izuku look at Greed's memories, and perhaps in the future, we will see the emotions from Greed leak into Izuku Midoriya.

Again, you can object to this formulation, but I hope you will cut me some slack in the knowledge that I make these decisions in the name of good storytelling. Because having Greed being aware of Edward now, well...

It ruins the chance for a more impactful reunion down the line, don't you think?

Chapter 11: Red and Grey

Summary:

Ed puts his work on hold to help Himiko with her problem.

Notes:

Sorry for the lack of upload last week, I've been just mentally exhausted as of late.

“You’re sure this place is with the Yakuza?” Ed asked, raising an eyebrow as the two stared at the pet store across the street. It was empty on the inside as far as he could tell, the lights off and an oversized lock on the door.

 

“Have I been wrong so far?” smirked Himiko, “I followed one of Kusumoto’s goons all day yesterday. He stopped here with a backpack and came out without one. I’m guessing they’re using it to launder money or something.”

 

“Money… laundering?” said Ed, confused. Why did people need to clean money? “Like… cleaning the blood off of it?”

 

“Metaphorically, yeah,” said Himiko, “Just… Just trust me, alright? They’re using this spot to do bad stuff, and they’ve probably got some financial records or something that’ll lead you up the chain of command. Go beat ‘em up.”

 

“There’s more to what I do than beating people up…” Ed grumbled, activating his Quirk on the piece of metal in his hand, which he turned into a helmet, before creating a bo-staff from the ground. 

 

“Sure there is,” shrugged Himiko, as her… her friend walked across the street. She watched from the alley as he obliterated the lock with a single touch and stepped through the now-open door. Normally, she would have been long gone by now, but it was late, and she’d admit, she was curious to see what Edward was capable of.

 

“Hey guys!” he said, “Why didn’t you guys invite me to this little shindig?”

 

Of course he was like that , she groaned mentally. His little quip was followed by the sounds of cracking and grunts, and a few moments later, a man crashed through the window and landed out on the streets. Another man landed on top of him a split second later, and after another minute, the street fell quiet.

 

She would have been impressed. Himiko really wanted to be. It was insane how someone that small could be so powerful without even using his Quirk. But she was distracted. Distracted by that… that… delicious scent in the air. Not even bothering to consider the risk, she walked across the street, eyes wide and mouth filling with saliva. 

 

The gangster, the first one to have been tossed out a window, was bleeding. There were shards of glass embedded across his body. She very carefully pulled off the man who had fallen on top of him as Ed made his way into the back of the store, before pulling out the first shard. The wound was shallow, but the cut still leaked blood. Cautiously, she wiped her finger along it, coating the digit in blood before sucking it clean.

 

Dear God, she had missed this! She had spent weeks resisting her urges, unwilling to damage her newly found friendship with Ed, but she honestly wasn’t sure if friendship was worth giving up this . It tasted like heaven as it went down her throat, like she was finally whole. 

 

It wasn’t enough. She smeared her hand along his wounds and tried to consume as much as possible in that way, but it wouldn’t be enough. Taking a deep breath, she turned his neck to the side and–

 

“Himiko!” Edward yelled, grabbing her arms.

 

He stared down at her, eyes full of fear and anger. Like… Like she was a monster. Himiko pulled her arm free and walked away.

 

“HIMIKO!” he repeated.

 

She didn’t stop.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

He found her a few hours later, taking shelter under a bridge from the rain that had begun to fall earlier that evening.

 

“What do you want?” she muttered, not bothering to look up at him.

 

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” said Ed, sitting down next to her, “I was just… just… just worried…”

 

“Worried I was going to kill him!?” she interrupted, glaring at him with hateful eyes.

 

“Yeah…” Ed conceded.

 

“You thought I was a monster!” she accused, “I thought you were my friend!”

 

“I don’t think you’re a monster,” said Ed, placing a hand on her shoulder, “I never have and never did. You’d have to do a whole lot worse than mild cannibalism to be a monster in my eyes, Himiko. I’ve met actual psychopathic serial killers before, and they probably wouldn’t make my top ten list of the worst people I’ve met. They were honestly relatively pleasant. You people just looooove binaries here, you know that? Heroes and villains, monsters and men. Morality doesn’t work that way. Just because I don’t think you’re a monster or a bad person doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re incapable of doing something immoral. I’ll never think you’re a monster, Himiko, I promise you that. You were nice enough to let me stay at your place, to help me with this whole… fighting the Yakuza thing. But attacking a man who’s already knocked out just to… to… to satisfy yourself is not moral, and I won’t stand by and let you do something bad.”

 

“I… I couldn’t control myself,” said Himiko, eyes watering, “It hurts, Ed. It hurts bad. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt people. But… I feel empty without it.”

 

“You’re… an addict,” said Ed, squeezing her shoulder slightly, “It’s because of your Quirk, isn’t it?” She nodded numbly. “Then… I want to help you.”

 

“How?” she muttered, “I’ve been like this since I was four and first saw a bird fall out of its nest.”

 

“I don’t know,” Ed admitted, rolling up his right sleeve. It was slightly bruised. He had used it to block a punch he really ought to have dodged. A symptom of five years of automail, he supposed. It was hard to unlearn that motion. “But for now… You can drink some of my blood. Until your head clears up, at least. Let me just…” He held up the free arm out in the rain, coating it in water which he then transmuted into ethanol. “There. Nice and clean.”

“Are… Are you sure?” she asked, “What if I can’t control myself?”

 

“I’ll be fine,” he said, smiling, “Do you need me too…”

 

She hesitated for a moment, before grabbing his arm and biting down on it. Ed wouldn’t lie and pretend it didn’t hurt at all, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought it would be. He supposed it was the nature of genetics. It was to her advantage if she could drink blood as painlessly as possible, like how parasites sought to hide from the creatures they had latched onto. 

 

Curious, he pressed both hands together. Himiko was too distracted to notice as he placed a hand on her shoulder. The Dragon’s Pulse was at its most visible when he was using his alchemy. Even if he wasn’t transmuting, sending energy through a person made it much easier to focus on their life force. That, combined with their close proximity, made it easy to locate the shard of a stone within her bloodstream. 

 

It was content. Drinking his blood had soothed the fragment of a soul that was the source of her powers. Perhaps it had belonged to a cannibal in its past life. If he wanted to, he could free her of those urges, of that uncontrollable urge to drink blood, of that sense of emptiness she told him of. All it would take was a thought, and the source of her self-loathing would trickle out of her nose.

 

No, he couldn’t. That wasn’t fair to her. It wasn’t even fair to ask. How could he? How could he ask her to cut off a part of herself? Regardless of what he did to her Quirk, she would always have those fangs, her body would always have the capacity to digest blood in ways he couldn’t imagine. It wasn’t an accessory to be removed at one’s convenience.

 

He would find a way to help her. She would be restored. 

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“What is it you’re researching now, Ed?” asked Nobuko.

 

“Blood,” said Ed, scrolling through the article in some medical journal.

 

“...Care to be a little more specific?” she asked, looking over his shoulder.

 

“Its chemical composition,” he explained, “What exactly goes into it.”

 

“Why?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, “Wait… Let me guess. It’s complicated.”

 

“You know me too well,” nodded Ed, scribbling some notes on a sheet of paper.

 

“Hey, kid!” called a familiar voice from across the library.

 

“Shh!” called Nobuko.

 

“Oh, sorry!” the blue-haired man whispered, sitting down next to Ed, “How’s it going?” 

 

“Fine,” shrugged Ed.

 

“...Reading about blood?” he asked. Ed nodded. Uch, couldn’t this guy just leave him alone? He had spoken to him a few times over the past two weeks, each time entirely unprompted, and each time the subject matter was both personal and insignificant. “I’ve always been squeamish about that stuff. The worst part of my job is how many blood drives we host at the office.”

 

“Blood drives?” said Ed.

 

“Yeah, you know, to get people to donate?” said the man, raising an eyebrow

 

“Oh,” said Ed, pretending he knew what the hell he was talking about.

 

“Is this for school?” asked the blue-haired man.

 

“Something like that,” said Ed.

 

“Ah, I get that,” said the man, “My brother is always researching stuff he thinks will come up in school. I caught him reading up on evacuation protocols for disease outbreaks last night.”

 

“...How the hell would that come up in school?” asked Ed.

 

“Oh, he goes to UA,” the man explained, “He’s in the hero course. Tomorrow’s his first day, actually. I still think he’s crazy for trying to memorize that, though. It didn’t come up when I went there.”

 

“ You’re a hero?” said Ed, skeptically raising an eyebrow.

 

“Ingenium, at your service!” the man smiled.

 

“What the hell are you doing at a library in the middle of the afternoon?” asked Ed.

 

“I could ask the same of you,” Ingenium countered, “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

 

“High school isn’t mandatory,” Ed pointed out, “Not in Japan.”

 

“Huh… really?” said Ingenium, a surprised look on his face.

 

Ed nodded. “I’m surprised a guy whose job it is to enforce the law doesn’t know that,” he said, “Very few people take advantage of that right, but I don’t need to legally be in school.”

 

“Well… Have fun with your research, then,” the hero shrugged.

 

“You’re not gonna give me a lecture about how I need to get an education?” said Ed, raising an eyebrow.

 

“I’m sure if my brother were here, he’d be turning red from oxygen deprivation from the lecture he’d be giving you,” said Ingenium, standing up, “But you seem like a smart kid. If you don’t want to go to high school, so be it. I just hope you’ve thought things through.”

 

“...Can I ask you a question?” asked Ed, looking up.

 

“Shoot,” nodded Ingenium.

 

“If… If you knew someone who was in trouble with the Yakuza,” said Ed, “How would you help them?”

 

“That’s… That’s a hell of a question,” said Ingenium, scratching the back of his head. “I think I’m supposed to tell you to go to the cops, but, well… it really depends on the kind of trouble. If you think their lives are in imminent danger, then definitely go to the police. But… if they’re being taken advantage of… there’s not really a whole lot you can do. Saving lives is always the top priority, and… sometimes getting law enforcement involved just puts everyone in danger.”

 

“What if… What if they might be in danger?” asked Ed, “And getting involved might save them but it also might guarantee they’re in danger.”

 

“I… There isn’t always a clean answer in heroics, kid,” admitted Ingenium, “It’s an unfair thing to say to a kid, but… Sometimes, you’ve gotta make the judgment call yourself. And be able to live with the consequences. Heroes can protect you from a lot of things, but we aren’t Gods.”

 

“I’m glad you’re not,” said Ed, “I’m not sure if God’s a cold, unfeeling bastard because the universe is or if the universe is cold and unfeeling because God is, but I know God is a cold, unfeeling bastard.”

 

“...You’re a weird kid, Edward,” said Ingenium.

 

“You’re the one who keeps trying to talk to me,” Ed countered. 

 

Ingenium laughed, eliciting another shush from Mrs. Nobuko. “Weird is good,” he said, “It’s memorable.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen, scribbling a number on the corner of his notes. “But if you have any more… hypothetical questions like your one about the Yakuza, give me a call, alright?”

 

“Alright,” shrugged Ed, tearing off the corner.

 

“...What happened to your arm?” asked Ingenium, observing the bruise.

 

“Got into a fight,” said Ed, not hesitating.

 

“Wow, you’re just… just saying that to me,” said Ingeium, bewildered. 

 

“What are you gonna do, arrest me?” said Ed, “I think you need a victim to charge me with a crime.”

 

“Of course not,” said Ingeium, “I’m just impressed. You’ve got balls, kid, balls of steel. I’ll see you around.”

…Huh. That was interesting. Edward wasn’t sure what he expected in a hero, but it definitely wasn’t that. He was… almost aggressively nice. Uch, he was really becoming a cynic if he found that surprising. That should be what he expects from someone who’s called a hero, right? He wasn’t a State Alchemist, and Ed shouldn’t be expecting a soldier. 

 

But maybe, just maybe, if heroes weren’t State Alchemists, then State Alchemists could learn to be heroes. 

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Himiko, I want to run an experiment with you,” said Ed, pushing the door of their house open with his back as he carried half a dozen containers in his hands, “You said you can smell blood, right? That it… triggers you?”

 

“...Yeah,” nodded Himiko, as Ed set the containers down on the ground.

 

“Can you just… just sit down and close your eyes?” he asked. She gave him a weird look, but followed his request, closing her eyes and sitting down in front of him as he pulled out the stack of papers from his pocket.

 

Blood wasn’t magic. It was a mixture of water, iron, and a few other elements all combined to carry oxygen and other nutrients across the body. Something in that mixture of elements and compounds triggered Himiko’s cravings. Ed just had to figure out how close to blood he had to make a substance in order to satisfy her biological urges.

 

He picked up the first container and glanced at his notes, before placing it on the ground and transmuting the materials inside into a smooth mixture. This was 99% water, and 1% iron. He had low hopes for this, but it would be really convenient if it worked. Himiko wouldn’t even need him to make it, necessarily. All she needed to do was buy iron pills from a pharmacy.

 

“Do you feel anything?” he asked, holding the container under her nose. She took a big sniff, before shaking her head.

 

Back to the drawing board. He transmuted the first container to dust and picked up the second, again transmuting the materials inside into a cohesive ‘slurry’. There was more to blood than just water and iron. This one, in addition to iron and water, contained carbon, calcium, phosphorus, sulfur, and a few other elements, roughly resembling the proportions of human blood. Again, he held up the container to Himiko’s nose, but again, there was no reaction.

 

Third time’s the charm, he supposed, again turning the container to dust and picking up another. Blood also wasn’t just mixing atoms together, it was formed from specific compounds, which made it difficult to transmute, but feasible with enough effort. It took a full ten minutes to transmute about an ounce of liquid, containing the same raw materials as the first, but much of the carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, sulfur, and iron were transformed into what doctors had dubbed hemoglobin.

 

But, alas, there was no response from Himiko. The liquid was a deep red and the air by now carried a metallic scent that to him smelled exactly like blood, but apparently, it wasn’t enough for Himiko.

 

Ed cracked his neck. This was going to be a long afternoon.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. They had been at this for an hour and a half, and he had more or less recreated human blood at a molecular level, but still, she had no reaction. Perhaps there truly was something intangible about the human body that he couldn’t replicate with chemicals. He knew there was something called a soul that did not appear on any microscope. It had no chemical makeup, at least not one humans could determine. Maybe whatever part of her craved blood could sense its absence in his artificially created blood.

 

“You can open your eyes now, Himiko,” Ed grumbled.

 

“You couldn’t do it,” she said, frowning.

 

“I’m still going to keep trying,” said Ed, scratching his chin. “Can you tell me more about your Quirk?”

 

“It… It lets me transform into people,” she explained, “People whose blood I drink.”

 

“That’s some power,” Ed said, thinking, “You… You said you feel empty without blood.”

 

Himiko nodded. “I just… I have this urge,” she said, “To become other people. To crawl into their skin.”

 

That’s it. Edward knew what he had to do. Nobody knew what made up a human soul, but the people of this timeline knew what made up something else that was essential for life. He wet his mouth and spat inside the rough approximation of human blood, before begining to transmute.

 

There was no way he’d be able to just causally create human DNA. It was simply to complicated and scientists didn’t fully understand it. But blood naturally contained very little of it, mostly being present in the white blood cells, which made up only about a percent of the total volume. It took about ten minutes to single out most of those cells. Now all he had to do was transmute some DNA into them. And while, as he mentioned, he couldn’t simply create DNA from scratch, he was pretty sure that with enough time, he could copy it from a template, like an artist tracing a sketch instead of drawing their own. All he had to do was put some of his own white blood cells in there, isolate them, and then recreate their DNA in the cells he created that more or less had empty nuclei. And luckily enough, saliva just so happened to contain white blood cells. 

 

It took a full half an hour to recreate all six billion nucleotides on those millions of cells. Rearranging elements at an atomic level and shifting protons around was nothing compared to the complexities of the human genome, but finally, it was done.

 

He barely had a second to react as Himiko snatched the container from his hands. A second later, it fell to the ground empty, and streaks of blood were rolling down Himiko’s face. She lied down on the ground as a grey goo began to encase her body, and suddenly, it was his face covered in blood.

 

“It’s… delicious!” he–she raved, “You… You… I didn’t have to hurt anyone.”

 

“Yeah,” nodded Ed, lying down on his mattress, “I’m, uh… I’m going to pass out now. I… I… I… Guh…”

 

His eyes drifted shut a mere second after hitting the pillow.

Notes:

As I said, a haitus is likely coming. My writer's block has been awful and my mind has been focused on other pursuits. We'll see how it goes.

Also, to anyone who might have some concerns about the extent of Ed's power, namely that he can do things he probably wouldn't be able to in FMA Brotherhood, first off, totally reasonable, second there are philosopher's stones like... everywhere in this world, so I hope you can accept my explanation that it makes alchemy a little stronger that it perhaps otherwise should be.

Chapter 12: Encounters

Summary:

Ed runs into quite a few people.

“Our society likes to adhere to a fiction that we’re all created equal,” Aizawa-sensei began, pacing in front of the students lined up in their gym uniforms, “The truth is we are not. When you did physical activities in middle school, you were told not to use your Quirks. To pretend you were just regular humans without powers. This class will not adhere to that fiction. In any activity asked of you, you will be expected to utilize your Quirks to the fullest. Do I make myself clear?”

 

A stunned silence fell across the class, nobody quite sure how to answer.

 

“Do I make myself clear!?” Aizawa repeated.

 

“Yes, sir!” the class answered in unison, minus a few voices.

 

“Midoriya,” said Aizawa, red eyes burning a hole into the side of his class, causing the students next to him to back away. “You didn’t score a single villain point in the entrance exam. You break your limbs when you use your Quirk. Step forward.”

 

Heart beating like a machine gun and sweating bullets, Izuku took a hesitant step forward. Of course, his teacher saw his entrance exam! His new teacher reached behind his back and tossed a baseball at him, which Izuku just barely caught.

 

“Throw it,” he ordered, gesturing to the plate, “With your Quirk. If you break your arm, you’re expelled.” A cry of indignation arose from his fellow classmates, which was quickly silenced by another stare. “UA does things a little differently. I have the full authority to expel any student who doesn’t meet my standards. And I won’t be slowing down the pace of my course just to coddle some student who demonstrates a complete lack of control over his Quirk and makes himself utterly useless whenever he uses it. Now throw the ball and don’t break your arm.”

 

A day ago, he would have shrank at this challenge and mentally begun to panic, but not now. He had a solution in mind. Izuku met Aizawa’s glare with a confident grin as he approached the plate. One For All Powered up in his right arm, just as he had done during the entrance exam, but instead of throwing, he just kept it there, gradually diluting and reducing the energy as he spread it across his entire body. It strained at his muscles, like a balloon that had just a bit too much air in it, but it didn’t feel like he was about to explode. Izuku tried to mentally recall a baseball game he had watched while young, and took the stance of a pitcher, before…

 

Yes! The force of the movement had sent Izuku to his knees and he was breathing heavily, but the ball went flying to the air and nothing was broken.

 

“...Not bad,” said Aizawa, giving him a hand up, “500 meters.”

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Oh, shit!” yelled a gangster as Ed kicked in the door of the warehouse, “It’s Fullmetal!”

 

“I see my reputation precedes me!” Ed grinned.

 

The papers he had seized from the pet shop had led him to this address. It took a little help from the internet to understand it, but decoding what it all exactly meant was a synch compared to trying to decode Marcoh’s alchemical notes from a list of recipes. Apparently, criminals in this world had gotten so good at making money, they needed to figure out how to hide it from the cops by making it look legitimate. They did that by creating a bunch of fake paperwork, buying property with fake companies under fake names, but eventually, there was something real under it all. There had to be some actual human, with real flesh and blood, to make things happen.

 

One of those humans made of flesh and blood with a dog or wolf mutation charged at him, but he easily sidestepped his attack and tripped him with his staff before moving on to the next gangster, who ran at him with a knife in hand. Edward simply knocked the blade out of his hand before whacking him across the jaw with his staff, sending him to the ground.

 

“Who’s next!?” taunted Ed, turning to face the three remaining gangsters.

 

Two stepped back, while the largest of the three stepped forward, cracking his neck as a sinister grin formed on his face. He wore brass knuckles with spikes on each hand, not too dissimilar to what Major Armstrong wore, minus the forearm component. 

 

“The boss said he wants you dead as soon as possible,” said the gangster, “I guess I’ll just have to savor–”

 

There was a sudden wind from behind him, and all three gangsters fell to the ground unconscious. Before Ed could realize what happened, there was a sudden pressure on his head, and he was forced to step back.

 

“Holy crap!” said a voice from behind him, clutching his hand.

 

Ed spun around to see that man in the strange armor he had met on his first day here. Wait… he recognized that voice. And those pipes sticking out of his arm. Uh oh… 

 

“I didn’t think that was real metal,” Ingenium continued, “Great reminder to go for body shots next time. Guess that explains the nickname. Actually… it doesn’t. Why do they call you Fullmetal if it’s just your head? You’re a lot shorter than I expected, by the way.” Ed opened his mouth to respond, but remembered he was hiding his identity, and so simply lowered his staff. “I assume this goes without saying, but… y’know, you’re under arrest for just soooo many counts of vigilantism. Like… an impressively high amount of vigilantism charges for someone who has only been at this for a few weeks. Serious hustle, dude. Respect.”

 

A moment later, he was gone, and Ed felt a gust of wind against his face as the sound of a revving engine echoed across the walls. There was a sudden sharp pain against his back, then against his chest, then one against his shoulder. Ingenium was too fast to track, at least… too fast for just regular vision.

 

Ed closed his eyes and simply focused on the Dragon’s Pulse. He was fortunate that it was Ingenium, the familiarity of that energy made it easier to get a lock on despite the speed at which he was moving.

 

Behind. It was coming from behind. Ed sidestepped Ingenium’s next attack and swung at his knee, sending the hero crashing into a wall. Thinking fast, he pressed both hands together, before pressing them against the ground, breaking up the thinnest possible layer off the ground to flood the room with dust, before burrowing a hole into the ground that he resealed above him.

 

He pulled off his helmet and pressed his ear against the thin ceiling above him, listening for footsteps. Wait, why was he doing this!? Ed pulled away from the ceiling and instead began to stare at it, before closing his eyes and again trying to sense Ingenium’s life energy. He was pacing around the room, the confusion in his aura palpable. Taking a deep breath, Ed pressed both hands against the wall and carefully began to transmute the ground that stood in front of him behind him, slowly and quietly burrowing forward.

 

“God, that was close,” muttered Ed, climbing out through a manhole cover and transmuting his helmet back into an iron bar. If Ingenium had aimed for the chest or leg instead of the head and gone for him first instead of the gangsters, it all would have been over before Ed had a chance to react. 

 

“Ed? Did you find anything?” a voice from his walkie-talkie buzzed.

 

“No,” said Ed, picking it up, “The heroes showed up before I could loot the place.”

 

“Who?” Himiko asked,  “Slugger? Death Arms?”

 

“Ingenium,” Ed answered, “He knew who I was.”

 

“...Shoot,” said Himiko, “That’s a top 100 hero. You are really attracting the wrong kind of attention, although I guess there isn’t really a right type in your circumstances.”

 

“Top 100?” said Ed, amused, “I didn’t know you were so much of a fan of heroes that you even knew a hundred, let alone ranked ‘em.”

 

“Ed, I swear, it’s like you’re an alien sometimes,” sighed Himiko, “You know there’s an official ranking of heroes put out by the government, right?”

 

“...Really?” said Ed, raising an eyebrow, “How the hell do you rank something like that?”

 

“I dunno,” said Himiko. “I think it’s a combination of resolved incidents and popularity. But it’s a pretty big deal to be in the top ten. Those guys make bank on merch sales.”

 

“That’s… interesting,” said Ed, “I’m going to pick up some more food. I’ll be back home in… I don’t know, half an hour?”

 

“Got it,” said Himiko.

 

A ranking of heroes was put out by the government. What a world. He contemplated how such a thing worked as he shoved potatoes into a shopping bag. Ed wondered where he would fall if they ranked all State Alchemists in Amestris. He had to be at least top ten, if not top five. The Colonel was pretty good, but Ed doubted he’d lose to the Flame Alchemist after he lost his eyes. If it was ranked by ‘resolved incidents,’ Ed had to imagine he was number one. He spent all his free time wandering the country saving people instead of hiding away and working for the government. Plus, y’know, he saved the world. He–

 

“Steampunk!” called a familiar voice from behind him.

 

“M–Mei!?” said Ed, turning around to see the pink-haired girl standing behind him.

 

“Where the heck have you been!?” she demanded, practically pouncing on him, “I’ve got to show you the babies I whipped up! I built this exoskeleton using some of that tungsten you made me! The design is based on your leg! The judges loved it! Gave me a full ride scholarship!”

 

“Calm down, you damn gear-head!” said Ed, pushing the girl off of her.

 

“I finished making those schematics you asked for, by the way,” she continued, without missing a beat as Ed rose to his feet, “They’re in my workshop! Come on, let’s go grab them!”

 

“Mei, I–I–” he stuttered, scratching the back of his head as he recalled Yuichi’s demand.

 

“Come on, we’ve got to… oh, it’s you,” said another familiar voice from behind him.

 

“Um… hi,” said Ed, turning around to face Yuichi.

 

“Come on, Mei, get in the car,” said Yuichi, walking past him, “We’re going home.”

 

“Wait, we’ve–” Mei began.

 

“Come on,” her brother continued, grabbing him by the arm.

 

“No!” Mei demanded, holding her ground, “You’ve been getting all weird whenever I mention him, Yuichi, what the hell is going on!?”

 

“I… I… You wouldn’t get it,” Yuichi sighed.

 

“Is this about the guys shaking you down?” she asked.

 

“You know about that?” hissed Yuichi, eyes widening.

 

“I’m not that oblivious,” said Mei, “I like to stay in my workshop, but my head would have to be pretty stuck in the sand to not notice anything over the last few years.”

 

“I, uh… I don’t want to get in the middle of a family argument,” said Ed, taking a step back.

 

“Stay right there,” said Mei, and Ed found his legs obeying her order regardless of his desires, “Yuichi, tell me what’s going on.”

 

“...Look, can we not talk about it here?” asked Yuichi, looking around.

 

“Fine, but you’re not weaseling your way out of this,” Hatsume warned, grabbing Ed by the arm and dragging him out of the store. “C’mon, Steampunk.”

 

“...Ok, I guess we’re doing this,” sighed Ed, not resisting as he was pulled into a reasonably private alley.

 

“Now talk,” said Mei, turning toward her older brother. 

 

“You know that I’ve been…” Yuichi began, trailing off mid-sentence.

 

“Paying off the mob,” Mei finished.

 

“Pretty much,” conceded Yuichi, “That day you fixed up Ed’s leg, some of them showed up. And he decided to stick his head in.”

 

“So, what, he saved you from some Yakuza thugs and you kicked him to the curb?” Mei spat.

 

“Mei, don’t–” Ed began.

 

“He saved me?” said Yuichi, rolling his eyes. “Mei, he put both of us in far more danger than whatever he saved us from. These people don’t mess around. They’d kill me and burn down the junkyard just to send a message to him.”

 

“Then why haven’t they?” asked Mei, “You’re so scared of these people, but what have they actually done to you after Edward beat them up? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You’re just a coward.”

 

Yuichi said nothing, simply grimacing and staring up at the sky. 

 

“Mei…” said Ed, “I get why you’re angry, but I really don’t want you to fight with your brother on my behalf. Family, it’s… it’s all that really matters.” He thought back to that day in King Bradley’s office. How he had threatened Winry if he kept prying. It’s not like he entirely ignored the warning and continued going after Father. “I can’t say I wouldn’t have acted differently if I was in his position.”

 

“It’s not just about you,” said Mei, “These guys have been showing up for years, Ed. How much money have you given to them? You work yourself to the bone every day to keep food on the table, it’s not like you have the cash to spare. Why don’t you go to the police?”

 

“Mei… Where do you think we got the junkyard?” asked Yuichi.

 

“From… From Mom and Dad?” said Mei, tilting her head.

 

“And where do you think they got that money?” pressed Yuichi. Mei said nothing, mouth hanging open slightly. “They got it from these guys, Mei. Dad was a genius with electronics but an idiot with everything else. He borrowed money to invent shit he couldn’t sell. Mom had to pick up the slack. She worked on cars for these people. Eventually, they set her up with the junkyard. We don’t even own the land, Mei, it’s a lease. If I get the cops involved, they’ll seize the property and probably condemn it. I’ll take paying off Kusumoto over getting kicked out.”

 

“You… No! Mom… She…” Mei stuttered, tears welling in her eyes.

 

“She was a mechanic for the Yakuza, Mei,” said Yuichi, “She built trap cars.”

 

“I… You’re lying,” Mei accused, “How could you say those things about Mom?”

 

“I’m not judging her,” said Yuichi, “Mom was put in a shitty position because of Dad’s mistakes. Now I’m in a shitty position because of her mistakes. Maybe in a few years, these guys will come knocking at your door because of something I did. That’s what family is. Just taking on debts to pay off ones you were handed, and then handing those new debts onto someone else. Mom did what she had to do to survive and make sure you and I didn’t starve, and now I’m doing the same. Taking a noble stand for… for justice or fairness or whatever you want out of me standing up to these guys is either for people who can afford it or have nothing to lose. Now get in the goddamn car, Mei.”

Mei stared at her brother, and then looked back at Ed, before stepping out of the alley and walking out of view.

 

“Kid, I–” Yuichi began.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Ed interrupted.

 

“...Excuse me?” said Yuichi, raising an eyebrow.

 

“That’s your goddamn sister!” said Ed, glaring up at the mechanic, “Where do you get off talking to her like that!?”

 

“She was the one who asked,” defended Yuichi, “Was I supposed to lie to her?”

 

“You didn’t care about the truth her entire life,” accused Ed, “Why now?”

“She never asked, kid,” said Yuichi, “Honestly, I didn’t think she’d even care.”

 

“She’s your sister,” Ed repeated, “I don’t care if you think family is just a burden, you keep those thoughts to yourself, got it? I’m not just going to sit by and let you drive your sister to tears!

 

“Mei isn’t a baby,” said Yuichi, “People don’t sugar coat things in the real world.”

 

“Yeah, well, people don’t coat them in salt, either,” Ed pointed out, “Just because you think most people are assholes isn’t an excuse to be one yourself. Especially to family!”

 

“Shut the hell up,” spat Yuichi, “You’re a goddamn hypocrite, you know that? Where was this righteous indignation of yours when Mei called me a coward? I guess it’s fine to be a dick to family if it’s by someone arguing on your behalf.”

 

“She’s your younger sister,” Ed maintained, “You’re her older brother. Whatever your Mom did was a bitter pill to swallow. It’s your job to make it go down easier, Yuichi, not to force it down her throat. I don’t think you even believe what you said about people not sugar coating things. She’s going to UA. That’s a hero school, full of people who are actually dedicating themselves to helping other people. I didn’t hear any sort of skepticism from you about it. You even tried to get me to help her get in. Sure, you might say it’s so she can get a good job or something, but that at the very least means you think Mei could have a better life than  I don’t think you’re some bleeding-heart optimist, but you certainly aren’t the jaded cynic you’re acting like. I think you just lost your temper and decided to justify it with some bullshit about toughening her up.”

 

“Where the hell do you get off lecturing me?” said Yuichi, “I’ve been taking care of her for years. I’m not going to pretend I’m perfect, but I’ve kept her safe. She has food and a warm bed, and she can work on her inventions. I’m sorry if she isn’t perfectly happy all the goddamn time, but I think I’ve done a pretty good job.”

 

“I know what you’re feeling, Yuichi,” said Ed, “I have a younger brother. He’s, well… not around right now, but I’ve had to take care of him since I was eleven years old. I know better than anyone how shitty it is. You’re probably pissed at the world. You didn’t ask for a kid; you were still one yourself. But like it or not, you’re her guardian, and you can’t lose your goddamn temper.”

 

Yuichi grimaced, staring at Ed but remaining silent.

 

“I’m sorry about the position I put you in,” Ed continued, “I really am. And I’m sorry I caused some friction between you and Mei. Family is really all that matters. But nothing gives you the right to talk to Mei as you just did. You just dropped a bombshell on her, and instead of trying to comfort her, you twisted the knife.”

 

“...I’m sorry,” said Yuichi, “I was out of line.”

“It’s not me you should apologize to,” Ed reminded him,

 

“Before I go…” said Yuichi, turning away, “The, uh… The guy you pissed off, Kusumoto, he… he said he wanted to talk things out with you. He likes to hang out in the back office at a funeral home on Ninth Street.”

 

“...Seriously?” said Ed, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Yeah,” nodded Yuichi, “I, uh… I hate to say it, but I actually don’t think it’s a trap. He seemed pretty shook up. I don’t know what the hell he wanted to talk to you about, but it seemed serious. Besides, it would probably make him look weaker if he had to lure a kid into a trap to get him. I’m not suggesting you go, I’m just telling you what I think, alright?”

 

“Good to know,” said Ed, scratching his chin.

 

“If things cool down, don’t be a stranger,” said Yuichi, stepping out of the alley.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“You can’t be serious,” deadpanned Himiko, as Ed poured himself a bowl of instant ramen.

 

“I… I think I might go,” said Ed, slurping up some noodles with freshly transmuted chopsticks, “I mean… the reason I’ve been doing this whole vigilante thing is because I needed to make sure the Hatsumes are safe. It’s not like I, y’know, approve of the Yakuza but I can’t spend all day beating them up in alleys. If I can just… clear this up with Kusumoto, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because he’ll kill you,” Himiko answered, “That’s what they do, Ed.”

 

“I don’t think they’re anything I can’t handle,” shrugged Ed.

 

“God, you are just… supremely self-confident, you know that?” said Himiko, “It’s gonna get you killed one of these days.”

“Probably,” conceded Ed, “But it hasn’t yet. I’ve walked into more blatant and more deadly situations and gotten out alive before.” Of course, Ed wouldn’t mention that half of those times, he made it out alive because the people who had set the trap wanted to sacrifice him. “If it is a trap, I’m pretty sure I can just, y’know, fight my way out of it.”

 

“Why even bother with that?” asked Himiko, “You know where he is, just put on the helmet and go get him!”

 

“How would that help?” retorted Ed, “Even if I put him in the hospital, he’ll just come back. The only way I could get rid of him is if I could get the cops to do it.”

 

“Unless you… y’know,” muttered Himiko. Ed raised an eyebrow. “Put him in the place you go after the hospital.”

“I’m not killing anyone, Himiko!” yelled Ed, face going pale.

 

“Alright, just throwing it out there,” shrugged Himiko, “But still, do you really think you can just walk in there and fight your way out?”

 

“Probably,” said Ed.

 

“How… Where did you learn to fight so well, Ed?” asked Himiko, “No offense, but… you look like you’re younger than me, but you can beat up dudes three times your size without your quirk.”

“I… I had a really good teacher,” said Ed, mind flashing back to some very physically painful memories.

 

Himiko grimaced and stared at him for a few minutes. “Why are you even here, Ed?” she asked. “I never had a teacher who didn’t hate me. I never had anyone who cared. You’re reasonably nice, you’re caring, you have an amazing Quirk, why are you down in the gutter with me?”

 

“It’s a–”

“Yeah, I know,” interrupted Himiko, “It’s a long story. We’ve been hanging out for weeks. I think if you wanted to share, you could have.”

 

“I… I don’t think you would get it, Himiko,” said Ed.

 

“Try me,” insisted Himiko.

 

“I do have a home to get back to,” explained Ed, “A brother, friends, family, all in a place far from here. My parents are, well… my mom is dead and my dad is out of the picture. But I can’t go back to them. There’s something I need to take care of here before I can go home.”

“What? What on Earth could be worth living in a shithole like this instead of with people who love you?”

 

“Honestly?” said Ed, “I don’t know. I’m not quite sure what I need to do here. But it’s impossible for me to go home before I do it.”

“So… you’re just going to leave one day?” said Himiko, staring at the ground.

 

“I’m sorry, but yeah,” nodded Ed, “One day, when my work is done, I’m going to go home.”

“Can… Will I still see you?” asked Himiko.

“I… I… I don’t know,” said Ed, scratching the back of his neck. “It’ll be far away. Really far away. But if there is a way, I… I promise I will find it, you hear!?”

 

Tears welling in her eyes, Himiko nodded, and so Ed rose to his feet and offered her a hand. Curious, she reached up and accepted it, allowing herself to be pulled up. Before she knew what was happening, Ed had wrapped both arms around the taller girl.

 

He would save her. He didn’t care what the hell Truth wanted from him, what the deal was with the Philosopher’s Stones, he was not going to walk out of her life like Hohenheim walked out of his.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

Deep breaths, Ed. Deep breaths.

 

“Hey, I heard your boss wanted to talk to me!” he called, pushing open the doors of the funeral home.

 

The buff guy sitting on a bench in the corner lowered his newspaper and raised an eyebrow. “You the kid that’s been driving him crazy?” he asked. Ed nodded. “You picked a hell of a time to show up. Kusumoto is in his office.”

“Uh… thanks,” said Ed, scratching the back of his head. That was easier than he expected. He made his way down the hall, past the state room, and toward the large wooden door at the end of the hall that he assumed was what the guard was referring to.

 

“Look, you really didn’t need to come down here,” said a muffled voice from the opposite side of the room, “I’m doing everything there is to be done. I wouldn’t shake you around on something like this.”

 

“As much as I’d like to take your word on that,” responded a second, sarcastic voice,  “I don’t. My men will be taking this over.”

 

“I… You… Alright,” said the first voice, resigned.

 

Welp… Here goes nothing. Ed pushed open the door, and was instantly greeted with the sight of three men, one sitting at the desk wearing a green coat and red bird mask with brown hair and yellow eyes, another somewhat heavyset man sitting infront of it dressed in a grey suit, and another standing to the side in a black poncho, black hat, and black plague doctor mask.

 

“Hey!” the pudgy man yelled, getting up, “Who the hell let you… Oh, shit…”

 

“Blonde hair, yellow eyes, kind of short,” the man behind the desk observed, “Now this is quite the coincidence. Kusumoto, give us the room.” 

 

The man in the grey suit, who was sweating profusely, stood up and, without a word of protest, left what Ed thought was his own office. As the door shut behind him, the red mask gestured to the one in the poncho, who stepped forward and pulled out the chair Kusumoto had just been sitting in. Cautiously, he sat down in it, and the room fell silent for a few moments.

 

“The polite thing to do in a situation like this,” the man in the red mask finally said, “Would be to introduce yourself. But given how you didn’t expect me here and I didn’t expect you, I suppose I’ll let it slide. Hello, my name is Overhaul, and you, kid, have quite a bit of explaining to do.”

Notes:

I hope I walked the line of both the Hatsumes being kind of dickish but also relatable. Mei is rightfully pissed at her older brother for keeping this a secret, while that was a bit of a dick move from Yuichi, he resents being treated like a dick after all he's done for her, which I think is also reasonable. For the record, I do think if Yuichi was the one who stormed off and Mei hadn't just had a bombshell dropped on her, Ed would have chewed her out for mistreating her brother. It's just a matter of how the argument played out that he was in a position to and felt obligated to lecture the older brother instead of the younger sister.

I truly don't want you to think lesser of either character from this interaction. I hope I've gotten across the fact that this is the culmination of quite a few years of poor communication and resentment from both of them. They're both young and immature and lack a clear relationship with one another. Edward and Alphonse were so close in age and had other parental figures in Granny and Colonel Mustang and Teacher, so while Ed did take care of Al to some extent, there was never a father-son dynamic between them. Yuichi, on the other hand, is almost a decade older than Mei and they have no-one else. It is him taking care of his sister like how a father takes care of his daughter. I have to imagine those circumstances makes it hard to communicate.

Throw in the somewhat dire circumstances they live in, the acute threat Yuichi has to deal with in his day-to-day existence, and some semblance of trauma and guilt from what happened to their parents, and I think it's fair to say that while they both treated each other unfairly, they didn't treat each other unreasonably.

Chapter 13: Surfacing

Summary:

Ed and Overhaul have a little chat, while Class 1-A has its first training exercise.

A silence fell upon the room instantly after Overhaul broke it, as Ed was overwhelmed by the aura from the man in the red mask. It was eerie, like the souls trapped within his Quirk were too scared to scream, yet the fear emanated from him nonetheless.

 

“I was an orphan, did you know that?” said Overhaul. “Never knew my parents. Never knew any family beyond the Hassaikai. So you can imagine my surprise when Kusumoto called me claiming to have found a cousin of mine.”

“Cousin!?” said Ed, almost blurting out laughing, “I don’t even know who you are, mister. I barely know who Kusumoto is. Are you his boss or something?”

“In an informal sense,” shrugged Overhaul, “I kind of see where he got the idea, not a lot of skinny guys with golden eyes running around. And there are even fewer of them who have the same Quirk as me.”

That snapped Ed to attention. “The same Quirk?” he asked. Overhaul pulled off his gloves and pressed a hand against the deck. There was a flash of light, and a moment later, the desk disintegrated, only to reconstitute as he held out his other hand.

 

…Holy shit.

 

That was alchemy. Alchemy without a transmutation circle. Had this Overhaul person looked through the portal? How!? Had he taught himself alchemy, or had he learned from someone?

 

“I’ve been told yours is similar,” said Overhaul, putting his gloves back on. Ed nodded before pressing his hands together and transmuting a small wooden figurine of a bird out of the desk, before having it retake its original shape. “Fascinating. But there’s something that interests me even more than your Quirk. To be entirely honest, I don’t care if we’re related or not. The only reason I’m interested is because I was told you got rid of someone’s Quirk. Is that true?”

“Yes,” said Ed, before he could even contemplate a lie. It was as though the words had been forced out of his mouth. He frowned. Why had he done that?

 

“Why?” Overhaul pressed.

 

“To get a better look,” answered Ed, again being unable to stop himself from answering, “I wanted to see if Quirks were what I thought they were.”

 

He covered his mouth with both hands.

 

“I’m sorry for asking you this way,” said Overhaul, “My associate’s Quirk is quite useful in situations like this. Don’t resist and just let Confession do its job. What did you think they were?”

As the words left Overhaul and Ed felt the response forming in his throat, he pressed his hands together before reaching for the iron bar clipped around his brought it up 

“Phil-mmmph!” said Ed, managing to cut himself off. In an instant, the bar was turned into a gag that covered his entire mouth.

 

“So we’re doing this the hard way,” Overhaul sighed, getting up from his chair. 

 

Edward, however, acted with more urgency and leaped to his feet, transmuting the desk into dust with such force that it formed a blinding cloud, allowing him to jump through the door, which he transmuted into a solid wall behind him. Yet that only bought him a few seconds of time, as Overhaul blew down the wall with his Quirk as Ed ran down the hall of the funeral home.

 

This was bad. Why couldn’t he have listened to Toga? Edward was effectively fighting another alchemist who had a Philosopher’s Stone. That was too much firepower for him to deal with. He blew a hole through an exterior wall as spikes jutted up from the ground beneath him, jumping into the alley just as one scraped his coat.

 

“Fine,” called a bored voice, as Overhaul sealed the hole behind him. “No Confession. Let’s talk. One-on-one. Normally, I’d turn you into a red paste for out of principle and then bring you back to life, but I’m feeling generous today. What did you discover about Quirks? I’m… something of a scientist, I need to know what you discovered.”

Cautiously, Ed reached up and turned his gag back into an iron bar. Maybe… Maybe this Overhaul person could help him. At the very least, he wanted to find out how he knew about alchemy.

“What if… What if I told you that Quirks were human suffering?” said Ed. Overhaul raised an eyebrow. “Something foreign. Something that’s corrupted the natural order of things?”

The mask covered the Yakuza’s mouth, but Ed could see the grin forming in his eyes. “Kid, he said, “You have no idea how happy I am to hear those words coming from your mouth.”

 

“You… You believe me?” said Ed, mouth hanging open slightly.

 

Overhaul nodded. “My ability makes my work particularly easy,” he said, “I’m sure you know just as well as I do how much easier it is to understand something when you can break it down on a molecular level with just your hands.” Ed nodded. He wouldn’t have gotten this far in trying to understand how Quirks worked without his alchemy. “I’ve found something… Something strange in the human body. Something the ‘real scientists’ haven’t discovered, or are keeping secret if they have. The average weight of it in the human body is around point zero-six grams. That’s less than human DNA. It’s… resistant to my Quirk, unfortunately.”

“A Philosopher’s Stone,” said Ed.

 

“That’s a… poetic way of describing it,” said Overhaul, raising an eyebrow, “But I’m on the verge of a breakthrough. Something that can destroy the substance. And I think you’re going to be the one to help me push it over the edge. Work will proceed much quicker if I can examine the substance in its entirety, and you were able to almost entirely extract it from a person.”

 

“You… Why do you want to do this?” asked Ed, “I’m not going to help you if it’s just to build some weapon you’ll use to hold the world hostage or something.”

“The fact that that’s where your mind immediately went is exactly why I’m doing this,” said Overhaul, “The fact that some two-bit Yakuza thug like me could contemplate trying to hold the entire world hostage and not be entirely written off as delusional is why Quirks need to go. It’s too much for mankind. It’s made us delusional. Heroes and villains alike all think that the world revolves around them. I want to put an end to it.”

 

“So… What do you need from me then?” asked Ed, resisting the urge to grimace. In a sense, he agreed with what the man said. Power didn’t actually matter. He had been willing to give it all up in exchange for his brother back. But there was a contempt to Overhaul’s conceptioon of things. To Ed, power was unnecessary because people alone were enough. To him, it seemed like power was unnecessary because most people were unnecessary.

 

“My men will be in contact with you,” said Overhaul, “Give me your phone.”

“I, uh… I don’t have a phone,” said Ed, scratching the back of his head. 

 

The Yakuza boss sighed before pressing his hand against the wall, blowing a whole through it and allowing his underling Nemoto to step through. “Give him one of your phones,” he ordered. 

 

Without hesitation, the man reached under his poncho, briefly revealing his belt that had at least half a dozen phones hanging off of it, one of which he pulled off and tossed to Ed. It was an old, probably decaes out of date flip phone with a piece of tape stuck to the front of it.

 

“It needs a new card,” Nemoto warned.

 

“If you can’t get one, ask Kusumoto,” said Overhaul, “Consider him your personal valet for all I care, if you agree to help me.”

“Can… Can you ask him to leave some people of mine alone?” asked Ed. 

 

Overhaul shrugged. “I don’t see why not,” he said, “They don’t owe him money, do they?” Ed shook his head. “Then I will. Consider it a favor.”

“Alright,” said Ed, staring down at the cold hunk of metal and plastic in his hands, “You… You really think you can destroy a Quirk?”

Overhaul nodded. “I think I can destroy them all,” he said.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“...I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” observered Yuichi, as Ed stepped through the gates of the junkyard. 

 

“I… I cleared things up with Kusumoto,” said Ed, “He won’t be bothering you any more in the future.”

“You’re sure?” said Yuichi. Ed nodded. “Alright. So… since you’re here, does that mean you’re taking me up on my offer?” 

 

Again, he nodded. “But… I have a roommate,” he said, “She let me stay with her, now she’s gonna be staying with me.”

“It’s your trailer,” shrugged Yuichi, “Do whatever you want with it. Just remember, if child services stops by, you found it, you asked me if you could park it on my land, you said yes. Got it?”

“Got it,” nodded Ed. 

 

The mechanic led him through the junkyard, back toward where the trailer was. It was an old, beat-up thing, paint chipped and with not a single window to speak of. It was kind of trailer one would use for shipping instead of the kind you’d live in, but Ed could make it work. Regardless of its current state, it would be on a facility that had both an internet connection and power, and he theoretically had the space and room to really experiment without the fear of being discovered.

 

“Where’s Mei?” asked Ed, prying open the rusted-over doors of the trailer.

 

“She’s… in her room, probably,” said Yuichi, scratching the back of her head, “I haven’t seen much of her since we, well… you know.”

 

“Oh…” muttered Ed.

“Eh, it’s my own damn fault,” sighed Yuichi, stepping into the trailer after him, “I shouldn’t have kept things from her for so long.”

“I’m sorry for what part I played in this, for what it’s worth,” said Ed.

 

“It’s not like I normally see much of her,” he shrugged, wiping some of the dust off the ceiling, “But it’s… different. She doesn’t tell me when she’s coming or going anymore.”

 

“I… I can talk to her, if you’d like,” Ed offered, turning part of the wall into a window.

 

“That’s not really fair to ask, Ed,” said Yuichi, staring out the newly created pane of glass, “It’s not your place to settle my messed up family situation.”

 

“Well, it’s a little too late for that,” Ed pointed out, “If I’m going to be caught in your drama, there’s no point in just dipping my toe into it.”

“I… Just drop it, Ed, alright?” said Yuichi.

 

“Fine,” shrugged Ed, “But if she comes talking to me, I’m not gonna just ignore her as she’s going through something because it makes things awkward for you, got it?”

“Fair enough,” said Yuichi, stepping out of the trailer.

 

Now with some semblance of privacy, Ed made quick work of the repairs. He put insulation around the walls, installed vents, and built a divider between a sleeping area and a ‘kitchinette’ all in less than ten minutes. He figured it would be fine to skip a bathroom for now, hooking this place up to the property’s power and sewer system would be… difficult, to say the least. For now, he finished the trailer off by covering the ground in a carpet, and then underneath the carpet, he created a small hatch that opened to the ground, which he, in turn, transmuted a small cavern underneath like his one at the beach.

 

Jumping down beneath the trailer, Ed reached into his pocket and pulled out the Philosopher’s Stone, which he set down on the ground in front of him before using his alchemy to smooth out the walls and create a metal table in front of him. He poured out the vial’s contents into a small tray he created on top of said table.

 

One way or another, he would uncover its secrets.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

“Wow, Deku, cool costume!” called a bubbly voice from behind him as Izuku took in the sight of the training ground.

 

“Oh, uh-Hi, Uraraka,” said Izuku, blushing slightly at both the compliment and the sight of the girl in the skin-tight costume before. He wasn’t sure why he felt so awkward around her. It was probably because she was his first school friend in almost a decade. Yeah, that was it. He didn’t want to screw up his chance

 

“Alright, students!” called All Might, pulling out a tablet from behind his back, “Today, we will by having our first practical exercise! Everyone, take a ball and find your partner!” The whole class approached the large bowl next to All Might, filled with ping pong balls, and Izuku returned with one that had the letter D written on the side.

 

“Looks like we’re teammates!” called Uraraka, causing Izuku to again blush as she held up her own ping pong ball. 

 

“I-uh-Awesome!” Izuku stuttered.

 

“Half the teams will play the heroes and the other half will play the villains,” All Might continued, “The situation? Villains have stolen a nuclear bomb and are demanding one-hundred billiion dollars as a ransom, or else they’ll level the city! The surrounding areas have been evacuated of civilians, but the blast radius means there will still be mass casualties. The hero team has been sent it to try and stop the villains before the ultimatum expires. If both villains are captured or a hero can place both hands on the bombs, they win! If fifteen minutes pass, or both heroes are captured, then the villains win! For our first matchup…” A holographic screen appeared behind him, with two sort of slot machine-style bars on side. “We’ll have… team D as the villains!”

“Let’s do our best, Deku!” smiled Uraraka.

 

“And for our heroes…” said All Might, as the second bar started to spin, “Team A!”

Izuku looked around, curious as to who his opponent would be. Staring daggers at him from across the field stood Kacchan, with a grin slowly forming on his face.

 

“Oh no,” Izuku muttered.

 

This… This wouldn’t end well.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“So… why does Bakugo hate you, Deku?” asked Uraraka, stretching on the roof of the building the exercise was taking place in.

 

“He… He doesn’t… He doesn’t hate me,” stuttered Izuku, “We went to the same school, and, well… he’s just… aggressive.”

“...If you say so,” said Uraraka, raising an eyebrow, “What’s the plan, then?”

 

“I think… I think we should put the bomb on the top floor,” Izuku said, stroking his chin.

 

“Isn’t that a bit obvious?” asked Uraraka.

 

“Yeah,” nodded Izuku, “But we’re up against Iida. He could check every inch of this building in five minutes if he wanted to. I think our best bet of beating him is to try to exhaust him as much as possible by making him check the entire building before engaging.”

“And what about Bakugo?” asked Uraraka.

 

“I… I just have to hope his desire to beat me is higher than his desire to win, I guess,” said Izuku, scratching the back of his head. I’m not going to hide from him and just… just hope I can hold out for the duration of the exercise.”

 

“So you’re just going to go off and fight Bakugo and leave me to deal with Iida?” said Uraraka.

 

“I… I think you have a good shot at it,” said Izuku, “All it’ll take is one touch and he’ll be useless. Besides, you saw his costume, right?”

“Yeah? What about it?” said Uraraka, tilting her head.

 

“There’s no way he can see well out of that helmet,” said Izuku, “I’m sure you can get the drop on him. But…” He took a deep breath, and began to power up his Quirk. “I think this’ll even the odds.” 

 

His fist slammed down into the rooftop. Despite his limited power, he was easily able to crack the concrete. The building was essentially a shell, designed to be easily torn down and replaced cheaply. He continued smashing up the rooftop, littering it with holes and allowing the debris to fall onto the top floor where they would put the bomb.

 

“There,” he said, “Now you have some projectiles to use against him.”

 

“Thanks, but…” said Uraraka, scratching the back of the head, “Why didn’t you do that to the floor we’re keeping the bomb on? That’ll make it harder for Iida to run around.”

 

“I… I didn’t think of that,” admitted Izuku, “I’ll just…” He jumped down into one of the holes he created, and with what little time left, continued breaking holes into the floor, until All Might’s voice errupted from the PA system and announced that the exercise had begun.

 

“Good luck!” smirked Uraraka.

 

“Thanks,” smiled Izuku, hiding his fear.

 

He was going to need it.

Taking a deep breath, he reactivated his Quirk at around one percent and ran out the room and through an open window, right over where Kacchan and Iida were about to enter the building. Iida noticed him first, quickly pushing his teammate to the side before running away himself. Izuku crashed into the ground inbetween the two, creating a massive dust cloud from the crater.

 

“Halt, evil-doer!” yelled Iida, evidently taking the scenario of the exercise far more seriously than Izuku did. “Surrender now, and our justice may be lenient!”

“I’m gonna obliterate you, Deku!” screamed Kacchan, launching himself at Izuku, “I’ll turn you and your Quirk to dust!”

 

Immediately, Izuku leaped into the air, jumping over his childhood friend and practically throwing himself further down the street, and, as expected, Kacchan chased after him. Iida yelled something, but whatever he said was drowned out by the sound of explosions from his old friend.

 

The first, familiar burning sensation hit him in the back a moment later. Izuku tumbled to the ground, his Quirk flickering then shutting off as he lost his concentration.

 

“Where. The hell. Did you. Get. A. Quirk?” spat Kacchan, landing behind him as Izuku rose to his feet.  He opened his mouth to speak, but before a sound could leave his lips, the blonde again blasted him to the ground. “You’re a real bastard, you know that? Hiding your Quirk from me all these years, treating me like some sort of schmuck.”

 

Inside him, Izuku felt two sensations rise within him at once. One was somewhat familiar. One For All flared up uncontrollably. The other… 

Izuku wasn’t sure what it was. It felt like some wellspring of primal emotion inside of him. Rage and fear and resentment all swirling together in his heart, yet above all, desire. A desire to prove himself to Kacchan, to All Might, to Uraraka. To stand up strong and say ‘I am a hero, whether you like it or not.’ 

 

In retrospect, he would notice how strange of a sensation, almost foreign sensation that was for him. Izuku’s dream of being a hero had never felt like something he would aspire to, rather it was something that would happen. Yet in that moment, with Kacchan standing in front of him, it felt like something he was taking, something he was claiming for himself.  He would not respond to Kacchan’s question, more of a demand, really. With One For All flowing through his body, he lunged at his old friend, who dodged with embarrassing ease. 

 

Wait… There was no pain that time. Even if he wasn’t blasting away at 100%, using the Quirk at any capacity usually caused some soreness. It was as though the energy was flowing more smoothly through his veins. Perhaps he had become adjusted to his Quirk?

 

No. No he had not. Kacchan responded to his attack with a blast of his own that Izuku sidestepped, but the quick movement sent aches running through his leg. He quickly pulled himself out of his own head and refocused on his goal, pushing through the cloud of dust the explosion had kicked up and landing a fist squarely in Kacchan’s gut, sending him flying down the street.

 

“I’m not going to lose to you anymore, Kacchan!” taunted Izuku.

 

“Damn you, Deku!” yelled Kacchan, “I’ll kill you!” 

 

Izuku leaped back over another of his classmates’ explosions. The move was by no means graceful. He ended up jumping a full meter higher than he perhaps needed to and paid for it with both an aching in his leg and allowing Kacchan to get another shot off that grazed his side, singeing the side of his costume.

 

As he landed on the ground and examined the charred side of his costume, Izuku couldn’t help feeling upset as his Quirk again flared up. He wasn’t quite sure why. It’s not like this was unprecedented behavior from Kacchan. But for some reason, looking down at the damaged state of his costume filled him with a deep sense of being wronged somehow.

 

“Y’know, these gauntlets aren’t just for show,” smirked Kacchan, brandishing the massive, grenade-shaped armor surrounding his wrists, “They store up my sweat from my movement. And when they’re full…”

Izuku’s eyes widened as his hands reached for the pin. 

 

“Don’t, Bakugo!” yelled All Might, “You’ll kill him!”

 

“NOT IF HE DODGES!” screamed Bakugo, pulling the pin.

 

Izuku crossed his arm, bracing for impact. He felt a searing heat against him as he slammed his eyes shut, and then…

 

Nothing.

 

No heat, no light, not even the breeze.

 

A moment later, he opened his eyes, and through the smoke and dust, he saw a dumbstruck Kacchan standing across from him, clearly wondering the same thing Izuku was: How was he unscathed?

____________________________________________________________________________

 

If Greed had an actual face, he would be smirking. In the brief moment of shock and fear from the attack, he pushed Izuku out of the driver’s seat and saved their body with his Ultimate Shield, only to be forced out unconsciously as Izuku recovered.

 

This was something he could work with. He hadn’t yet realized his own strength till now. Not his physical strength, of course. Ever since All Might launched his first weather-changing punch with their power, Greed had come to terms with the raw power buried within him. This was a different kind of power he had just experienced, one that was impossible to quantify yet inconceivably more important. 

 

This was a power over the soul. Because Izuku Midoriya was perhaps not the saint Greed had labelled him. The boy hadn’t yet realized it, but he had wants, just as all men did. Wants that his social isolation had largely prevented him from comprehending. He wanted the validation of his peers that had for so long eluded him. There was a mentor, one he had looked up to from afar until just a few months ago. This was the Eighth, Greed imagined. He was not yet able to assert himself upon Izuku’s thoughts and senses, only being able to judge his soul from the outside, but considering how Toshinori had been his previous host and willingly removed Greed, there was only one person who it could have been. There was a rival, a boy whom he had both feared and idolized his entire life. A peer, another boy the same age as him, yet seemingly infinitely more mature. A friend, a girl whom he had feelings for, feelings that Izuku didn’t fully understand. He craved their validation, their acknowledgement, their respect.

 

This hunger, this longing, this desire could be exploited. It was the chink in the armor, the crack in the facade. He could fuel it, incentivize Izuku to indulge in it, and in turn, Greed would grow stronger. And soon, Greed would be strong enough to step into the driver’s seat like he had been with Ling. No more would he be a tool for some multi-generational quest for vengeance. No more would his rightfully earned power be stolen by these damn hosts.

 

This body, it would be his.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

The entire class was stunned by Katsuki Bakugo’s attack and Izuku Midoriya’s shocking survival of it. The two students in question were, for obvious reasons, as were Ochako Uraraka and Tenya Iida. Neither of them knew exactly what was happening, but all of them heard All Might’s yell, which was quickly followed by an earth-shaking explosion. They both cut their brawl over the bomb short to stare toward the explosion in silence, not knowing if their classmate was indeed dead as All Might predicted. Their peers, watching from the surveillance cameras, also fell silent despite knowing Izuku had survived. That was, in fact, the reason they were silent. He simply stood there and took a massive explosion seemingly unscathed, despite being injured by much smaller attacks only moments ago.

 

It would be the members of Team D who recovered first from the shock, and it would be the decisive moment of the exercise. Izuku Midoriya himself was just as confused by his survival, but the adrenaline suppressed it just long enough for him to lunge at his old classmate, knocking him out with a punch to the skull. 

 

Ochako Uraraka also recovered more quickly than her Team A counterpart. It was not that she was running at a higher capacity or more focused somehow than Tenya Iida; instead, it came down to faith. She was able to suppress her confusion and concern more readily than him because she was more willing to believe that he was fine, and so was able to land a hand on the back of his armor while he was distracted, sending him floating into the air.

 

“Umm…” All Might’s voice crackled through the intercom, “Villain team wins…”

Chapter 14: Out

Summary:

Ed decides to finally follow up on the offer.

Notes:

Eyy 500 kudos!

“So… This is the place,” Himiko observed, stepping into the trailer.

 

“It’s not much to look at right now,” Ed acknowledged, shutting the door behind him, “But, A, it’s legal, B, there’s electricity, C, there’s less of a risk of someone breaking in. Plus, I can make adjustments without arousing suspicion. I’m gonna get started on a generator when I have free time and then try to get us air conditioning.”

 

“It’ll be nice not to die of heatstroke in the summer,” conceded Himiko, stepping into the second room. “Is that a bunk bed?”

 

“There… There wasn’t really space for two rooms,” said Ed, scratching the back of his head.

 

“I guess it’s better than the vacant,” shrugged Himiko.

 

“I’m glad you like it,” said Ed, placing a hand in his back pocket. This really couldn’t have come at a better time for him. The money he had saved up had nearly run out, and he wasn’t quite sure how he’d be able to buy groceries after that. Idly, he supposed he could now go to Kusumoto for cash like Overhaul said, but the idea was… distasteful to him. It was still blood money to him. 

 

Speaking of which…

 

He pulled out the cell phone from his back pocket along with a SIM card, still sealed in the plastic it came in from the store. He had bought it with what little money he had left, right after he had ensured his living situation with the Hatsumes would be taken care of. Pulling the plastic container open, Ed grimaced and prepared to bite the bullet.

 

“I gotta take care of something,” he said, stepping out of the trailer as he plugged the card into the phone. Still not entirely sure how these things worked, he held the phone with two fingers and pressed an arrow on the keyboard, causing a black bar to flash over the word contact. 

 

Hmm…

 

Curious, he pressed the OK button in the center of the arrows, causing the screen to shift, and suddenly, the black bar was flashing over a chain of ten numbers, listed as belonging to an XXXX. Was this who he was supposed to call? He was vaguely aware that each phone was assigned a number that you called directly, unlike with the operators in his world; perhaps this one belonged to Chisaki?

 

No reason to hesitate, right? Holding the phone in front of his face, he hit the little green button, causing the phone to emit a faint sound. Unclear as to what was going on, he held it up to his ear to listen closely. It was… some sort of ringing. Was that normal?

 

“Hello?” the voice coming from it asked.

 

“Uh… hello?” Ed responded.

 

“Who is this?” the voice asked.

 

“Who is this?” Ed countered.

 

“You called me, didn’t you?” said the voice.

 

“I don’t know, man, some guy gave me this phone and this is the only–” Ed began.

 

“Hold on a second,” said the voice, cutting him off.

 

There was a shuffling coming from the speaker, and a few moments later, a new voice spoke.

 

“...So you’ve decided to play ball,” it said lazily.

 

“Is this…” Ed began.

 

“It is,” Overhaul confirmed. 

 

“I’m… I’m not saying yes,” Ed began, “Not until I get a chance to see what you’re actually doing.”

 

“That’s reasonable,” said Overhaul, “Get on the next train from Musutafu to Nagoya. There will be a car awaiting you at the station.”

 

“I, uh, don’t really have the cash for a ticket,” said Ed, feeling his back pocket.

 

“One of Kusumoto’s underlings will buy you a pass,” said Overhaul, “Call me when your train arrives. Don’t be late.”

 

Click .

 

Well, that was… something. Turning back toward the trailer, Ed pocketed his phone and stepped back in.

 

“I’m… gonna be out for a bit,” he said, as Himiko raised an eyebrow.

 

“Out,” she repeated.

 

“Out,” Ed acknowledged.

 

“Well…” she said, “Have fun being ‘out’.”

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

He would admit, the idea of taking the train was a bit exciting. Every piece of technology that seemed advanced in his world was unrecognizable here, but a train was still a train. Even if it looked different, it was still a damn train. The station smelled different. The scent of coal did not hang in the air as it did in his world, and the steam and smoke that normally would be billowing out of the locomotives were absent, but there was still that crowded hustle and bustle that existed at the capital station. 

 

Despite the comfort of his surroundings, Ed remained on edge as he stepped off the platform and onto his train. It wasn’t quite fair to say he was heading into enemy territory. One, it implied Overhaul was an enemy. Was he deeply unsettling? Of course. Necessarily hostile? Not necessarily, and hopefully not. Two, it implied he was leaving some friendly territory. It’s not like Musutafu was a place he inherently felt safe or at home in. It’s not like it was even familiar to him. He knew perhaps six people there, and aside from Himiko, he couldn’t say he considered any of them particularly close, although he perhaps had a high bar for that, given how he routinely had people dump their trauma on him shortly after meeting them. 

 

Of course, it wasn’t like his trepidation was entirely irrational or based on vibes, so to speak. Considering what he knew about Overhaul, namely that he was powerful and specifically above Kusumoto, it stood to reason that his grip on Nagoya would be stronger than what he faced in Musutafu. He was also going into this without any sort of safety net or money. He might only know six people in Musutafu, but he knew exactly zero people in Nagoya.

 

He grimaced as he stared out the window, watching the city slowly fade into the distance. If he had regrets, it was too late to turn back now. Overhaul probably would have people waiting by the platform for him to show up. He had to imagine they would be upset if he got cold feet.

 

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” asked a girl with long, black hair wearing a grey blazer.

 

“Uh, sure,” said Ed, scootching over to the side.

 

“Thank you,” she smiled, sitting down next to him and setting a backpack between her legs. He watched silently as she pulled out a large chemistry textbook and some kind of worksheet, before going back to searching in her bag. Whatever she was looking for, it evidently wasn’t there. Frowning, she zipped up her bag before rolling up her sleeves and…

 

Woah…

 

There was a pop of colored light, and a moment later, she pulled a pen out of her wrist.

 

“Is… Is that your Quirk?” Ed asked.

 

“Oh, um… yes, I seem to have forgotten to bring a writing utensil,” the girl explained, scratching the back of her head, “I’m so used to being driven, I suppose I… I forgot I’m not supposed to do that on the public train.”

 

“Eh, I don’t think anyone really cares,” said Ed, gesturing to the crowd of apathetic commuters sitting on the opposite side of the train. “If you don’t mind me asking, though, how does it work?”

 

“I, ehem, I essentially create things by reforming the lipids in my body,” she explained, “It’s called Creation.”

 

“Do you have to know the chemical composition of whatever you’re creating?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

She nodded before reaching into a bag and pulling out a large, brown, leather-bound book. “I carry this dictionary around with me wherever I go,” she explained. 

 

“If… If you don’t mind me asking, why a physical book and not, I don’t know, a phone?” he asked, “It seems like it would be much easier.”

 

“It’s a matter of reliability, I suppose,” she explained, putting the book back into her bag, “A phone needs a battery. It has a lot more components that can break. But the pages of my book are made out of a tear-proof, fire-proof, and water-proof plastic. The text isn’t just written on, it’s a different filament in the plastic. Even if it was dragged through mud or my eyes were impaired, the words are also textured so I can feel what it says if I am unable to read it.”

 

“Fair enough,” Ed sighed, “I should get one of those.” The girl raised an eyebrow, clearly confused as to why he would possibly need such a thing. “I, uh… I have something similar. Can I borrow that pen?”

 

Intrigued, the girl nodded, and so Ed pressed both hands together before taking the pen from her extended hand. The metal ball at the tip was pulled apart and merged into the frame, before he reshaped the carbon bonds of the ink and switched around the mechanism of the ball-point.

 

“Did you…” she said, taking the utensil back from him, “Did you turn my pen into a mechanical pencil?”

 

“It wasn’t that hard,” Ed shrugged, “The ink you made was petroleum-based. It’s always pretty simple to turn one carbon into another. All I did was switch it to graphite and re-arranged the mechanism that spits out the tip.”

 

“Fascinating,” she said, scribbling on the paper with her new pencil, “Your Quirk allows you to re-arrange matter?”

 

“Something like that,” he said, “Although I’m not that great at using it on gases.” He knew from Mustang it was theoretically possible, he simply never tried it. “I call it Equivalent Exchange.”

 

“Rearranging matter,” she said, staring down at the pen, “I wish I could do that. Once I create something, it’s stuck that way.”

 

“I still can’t believe you can just… pull an object out of your body,” he marvelled, “It’s gotta be nice to have ammo wherever you go.”

 

“Pros and cons to everything, I guess,” the girl shrugged, “My name’s Yaoyorozu, by the way.”

 

“Edward,” he said, offering his hand, “Edward Elrich.”

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

The train arrived at the station in Nagoya half an hour later, putting an end to their riveting discussion of how they hated and loved chemistry in equal parts. He and his new friend parted ways as they stepped onto the platform, and despite the massive crowd of commuters, he swore he could feel several pairs of eyes on him. With a deep breath, he shut his eyes and tried to feel the Dragon’s Breath. 

 

Four…

 

There were four auras focused on him, staring at him from various points from–No, five. There was one staring down at him from the ceiling, somehow. Eh, it’s not like he wasn’t expecting it. They didn’t seem too threatening, but looks could be deceiving. 

 

Riiiiiing…

 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. It was the same number from earlier.

 

“Hello?” he asked, holding the phone up to his ear.

 

“There’s a car waiting out front,” said the voice on the other line, “Black SUV.”

 

Click.

 

“...What the hell is an SUV?” he muttered, pushing his way through the crowd as he shoved the phone into his pocket. Despite his confusion, however, he eventually made his way out on the street, where a large man in a bird mask and black suit was waiting outside a stupidly large black car, more of a small van, really, which he assumed was what he was waiting for. His suspicions were confirmed when the man in the mask looked down at him and gestured for him to approach.

 

“You the kid?” he asked. Ed nodded. “Get in the back.”

 

He looked the man up and down and then peered into the window. There was only one man in the car, sitting in the passenger seat and dressed in a white cloak with a red mask. He wasn’t Overhaul or Nemoto, so he decided he was confident enough in his safety to agree and climb into the backseat.

 

“Welcome, Mr. Elrich,” said the man in the coat, staring at him through the rear-view mirror.

 

“Hey,” nodded Ed, not really paying attention as he stared at the odd belt he was wearing across his chest. 

 

“Overhaul is pleased you agreed to take him up on his offer,” he said, as the man in black stepped into the driver’s seat.

 

“Uh-huh,” nodded Ed, looking back as the train station disappeared into the distance.

 

“You caught him at a good time,” the man in the red mask continued, “He’s made a breakthrough in his research. Something I think you’ll find very interesting.”

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Welcome to my… humble abode,” said Overhaul, as Ed followed him into seemingly inconspicuous but still quite large house. They were right in the middle of a sleepy, suburban neighborhood, with a school about two blocks away. Not the type of town you’d associate with organized crime, which he supposed was the point.

 

The interior of the house and the halls they walked down were a strange mixture of foreign and familiar. The exact style was nothing he had seen himself before, with the soft, woven mats that made up the floor and occassional paper walls not at all present in Amestris. Yet while the exact style was alien to him, he could sense the traditional nature of it all. It was wood and organic fibers instead of the gypsum and concrete that he had gotten used to during his stay in Japan. While those materials certainly existed in his world, they weren’t ubiquitous like it was here, even in major cities.

 

Eventually, after walking in mostly silence, Overhaul stopped and turned to face a wall, before pressing a hand against it. The wood pulled back, revealing the concrete underneath which soon also pulled back, revealing a hallway.

 

“I’ve been studying Quirks for as long as I can remember,” said Overhaul, as he and the man in the cloak followed him down the hallway. “But it wasn’t until I became the new boss of the Shie Hassaikai that I gained the… resources… to truly pursue it. Practically my first action as leader was to create these tunnels, both for, well, practical reasons, and to conduct my research in secret. Most members of my organization have no idea what our end is.”

 

“You think they’d be… not ok with that?” asked Ed.

 

“No, I think if I told them that my end goal was destroying their super-powers and turning them into regular people, they’d shake my hand and say ‘gee, boss, that’s swell’,” said Overhaul, rolling his eyes, “Yes, I think they would have a small problem. I’ve told them that I’m developing Trigger and Anti-Quirk weapons, which… I am, but those are just means to an end. Research is unfortunately expensive, and while the other families have accepted my position, they are not willing to finance me, so until then, we’ll have to make due with more… traditional sources of revenue.”

 

“So selling drugs and guns,” said Ed.

 

“If you want to be blunt about it, yes,” said Overhaul, turning and pressing his hand against the wall, causing it to recoil. “But the fruits of those activities are self evident, wouldn’t you say?”

 

The fluorescent lights behind the wall practically blinded him after wanding the dimly light hallways, but once he adjusted, Ed was left with wide eyes. It was an actual, honest-to-god laboratory, with equipment that looked much more sophisticated than anything in his world.

 

“This is my prized possession,” Overhaul said, gesturing at a machine, “It’s an electron microscope, I had to establish a legal research lab just to purchase it. Had to burn the whole place to the ground afterword, and the professor I hired to manage it, well… it didn’t end well for him, but it was worth it.”

 

“Did you…” said Ed, grimacing.

 

“No, but I framed him for insurance fraud,” said Overhaul, “If you’re feeling guilty for him, don’t. Aside from the fact that guilt is pointless and will just drag you down, he had also previously been fired from his university for embezzling. He was no innocent. Now, onto business. Chronostatsis, if you will.”

 

“Yes, sir,” nodded the man in the cloak, pushing open the door at the end of the hallway.

 

“You removed the Quirk from a man, yes?” asked Overhaul. Ed nodded. “You used your ability to pull it out of hin?” Again, he nodded. “Please demonstrate for me.”

 

The door opened again, and Chronostatis pushed out a cart with a tarp covering it. It might have blocked him from seeing it, but the smell told him all he needed to know. Cautiously, he stepped forward and pulled off the tarp, revealing the sea of red underneath the tarp.

 

“Who the hell was he?” asked Ed, leaning over the pool of liquified flesh and blood. 

 

“Some employee of mine,” shrugged Overhaul. “He got shot, and I decided I could squeeze some additional value from him. Now, can you remove the Quirk or not?”

 

“I’m… I’ll see,” said Ed, taking a deep breath and pressing both hands together. “But I’m not working for you if you’re killing people to get subjects, got it?”

 

Overhaul simply shrugged, and so, resisting the sense of disgust that washed over him as he felt the coolness of the liquid on his palms, he began to transmute, searching for the stone mixed in with the blood. He thought of Alphonse. Of Winry. Of all the people back home who were waiting for him. How he would not be able to see them again if he could not do whatever the hell Truth wanted from him.

 

After a few minutes of careful searching, a congealed mass floated to the top of the tub, which Overhaul scooped into a glass flask. 

 

“Is this… what I think it is?” asked Overhaul.

 

“Throw that over a Bunsen burner,” said Ed, “It should evaporate the rest of the blood.”

 

Overhaul handed the glass to Chronostatsis before leaning down next to Ed. “I really, really have no idea what the hell I’m doing,” he admitted. “A Quirk, it’s… it’s… like nothing I’ve seen before. It’s not an organ, or an organelle contained within larger cells. It’s almost like a parasite, but… if it is a parasite, why the hell is it listening to us? Why can I command mine and you yours? It has no DNA, it doesn’t undergo mitosis, yet it feels… alive, somehow. I don’t know what it is, but I know it can be destroyed.” He reached into his pocket and pulled a red vial. “This is what little of what you called… Shilosopher’s Stones that I was able to extract from a few sources. And this… is the cure.” 

 

From his other pocket, he pulled out an ampule, filled with another red substance, that he cracked over the vial. As the substance slowly dripped into the vial, black streaks began to form, like cracks on a glass sheet with too much pressure on it. Ashes rose from the now-bubbling surface, and an even more foul scent filled the air. But, after a few seconds, the cracks retreated, and substance settled.

 

“It’s not as potent as it needs to be,” Overhaul continued, “But with your help, Edward Elrich, we’ll perfect it. And soon… Quirks…”

 

You couldn’t see his lips under his mask, but his eyes and cheeks made it plainly visible. He was smiling, and smiling wide.

 

“...Will be no more.”

Notes:

I don't know if Yaomomo is going to be a constant in this fic, but c'mon, you know she had to at least make a cameo.

Anyway, I just wanted to take this chance to thank all of you. The support this fic has gotten is absolutely insane. No other fic of mine has come close to reaching 500 kudos this quickly, plus over 10K hits and over 300 kudos. I try and tell myself that I write because I enjoy it, but I'm not going to pretend I don't enjoy knowing that other people do as well.

Chapter 15: A Balancing Act

Summary:

Izuku continues to try and understand his Quirk while Ed continues to try and help without giving him an existential crisis.

Notes:

Ey, this work has officially become my most kudosed fic.

“So… how was ‘out’?” asked Himiko, reclining on a dilapidated lawn chair as Ed stepped through the gates of the junkyard they now called home.

 

“As interesting as could be expected,” shrugged Ed, walking past her. She got up from her chair and followed him as he walked back toward their trailer, holding her arms behind her head. “I got some more money, by the way. We should be good for a while.”

 

“You sure you don’t need me to pitch in?” Himiko asked.

 

“Not for now,” said Ed.

 

“C’mon, I’m bored,” she sighed, “Ever since you stopped beating up the Yakuza, I’ve had nothing to do.”

 

“Have you thought about re-enrolling in school?” asked Ed.

 

“Ha!” laughed Himiko, “Wait… you're serious? You realize I can’t do jack legally without getting reported to my parents, right?”

 

“Oh, right…” said Ed.

 

“I guess there is equivalency stuff,” continued Himiko, “But it’s not like I was ever going to go to college, even before I ran away, so what’s the point?”

 

“Does there need to be a point to learning?” countered Ed, “Like you said, you have nothing better to do. Yuichi said he was going to show me how to repair an engine tomorrow. How about you join me?”

 

“Uch, seriously?” she said, raising an eyebrow as he pulled open the door of the trailer. “How do you just go from committing random acts of violence to something so mundane?”

 

“Practice,” answered Ed, not missing a beat as he climbed onto the top bunk.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Guh…” muttered Ed, rolling out of bed as the banging from outside. He supposed that was the downside of living at a junkyard. Work began early for Yuichi, and work was loud. The man must have turned on that trash compactor, if he had to guess. Himiko had decided to maintain the illusion of sleep, pressing her face into her pillow, and so Ed proceeded alone out of the trailer before pacing around it.

 

He supposed he ought to get around to hooking this place up to sewage at some point. This property had to have water and sewer lines somewhere. All it should take is a simple garden hose for water and–

 

“He told me you were here,” said a voice from behind him as he examined the exterior.

 

“Oh… Hi, Mei,” said Ed, turning around, “I… I really don’t know what to say here.”

 

It appeared she didn’t either, or perhaps she knew the answer to be nothing, because she simply walked away. 

 

“Wait, Mei, I…” he called, reaching out and grabbing her arm.

 

“What do you want?” she said, turning back to face him with a frown on her face.

 

“You’ve gotta talk to your brother eventually,” he said, “You’ve got every right to be mad at him for hiding the truth from you, but at some point, you’ve got to forgive him.”

 

“Let me go, Ed,” said Mei, pulling her arm free. “This isn’t any of your business.”

 

“Well, it kind of is,” countered Ed, following her as she made her way to the front gate. “You made it my business when you dragged me into your family conversation.”

 

“You don’t know how I feel,” Mei continued, pulling her backpack over her shoulder.

 

“Mei, my dad ran out on me and my family when I was ten,” he said.

 

“Well, I guess I’m not as goddamn saintly as you are, Ed!” she spat,

 

He laughed. “I kicked his ass the first time I saw him,” said Ed, “I’m not going to tell you what to feel or when you have to come to terms with your brother, all I’m asking is that you try and see things from his point of view. He was just trying to protect you. Maybe he should have told you the truth from the beginning. You have every right to feel that way, Mei. Lord knows I’d be pissed if that was kept from me. But he’s human, and he’s honestly not much older than you, and he’s had to keep this burden by himself for years. Just think about cutting him some slack, alright?”

 

Mei said nothing and simply turned away.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“What’cha reading about, Deku?” asked Uraraka, sitting down next to him in the UA cafeteria. 

 

“It’s a book about meditation,” Izuku explained, holding the book in one hand and absentmindedly scribbling into his notebook with the other.

 

“Huh,” said Uraraka, picking at her food with a fork, “I didn’t realize they wrote books about that. I thought you just… y’know, do it.”

 

“It’s a lot harder than you’d think,” said Izuku, “And there’s a lot of science behind how it affects the brain.”

 

“Y’know, I’ve gotta admit, you don’t seem like the type to be into meditation,” said Uraraka, casually taking a bite of her ramen, “You’re not exactly the most, uh, zen person I know.”

 

“I… I…” Izuku stuttered, blushing slightly.

 

“Come now, Uraraka,” chastised Iida, “If Midoriya is looking to work on his often erratic behavoir, we should welcome it! I, for one, am happy that he is trying to improve himself!”

 

“I never said it was a bad thing!” Uraraka defended, also now blushing.

 

“Does he really think I’m erratic?” muttered Izuku.

 

“I just said I was surprised,” she continued, “I think it’s good too.”

 

“I, um, it’s for my Quirk, actually,” Izuku admitted, scratching the back of his head. “Remember how I broke all my limbs during the entrance exam?” Uraraka nodded, while Iida stared at him in shock. “It’s because I can’t, uh… I can’t really control my Quirk that well. The, um, person I’ve been working with says it’s just too strong for me. That when I get older and stronger, I’ll be able to fully control it. He’s… He’s right, but I think there’s more too it. A friend of mine said some of it might be just be mental, so I’m trying to give meditation a shot. To see if that might help me control it.”

 

“How admirable!” cried Iida, “The lengths you’ve gone to in order to improve is truly deserving of my deepest respect, Midoriya! I–”

 

Iida froze midsentence, being cut off my the alarm and the following stampede of students flooding down the halls.

 

This…

 

This wasn’t going to end well.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“God, this sucks,” Himiko bemoaned, lying down on the ground and wiping the grease off her hands. 

 

“Yeah… this kind of sucks,” Ed conceded, sitting down next to her.

 

“Thanks for belittling my profession,” said Yuichi, rolling his eyes. “You were the one who asked me to teach you to fix an engine.” He reached down to the manual lying on top of the car, before flipping to a page and tossing the book at Ed. “Do you mind?”

 

“Uch, fine,” said Ed, taking a careful look at the diagram, “One spark plug, coming up.”

 

“Thanks,” said Yuichi, as Ed tossed him the small piece. He connected it to the engine block they had spent the past few hours working on, before getting into the driver’s seat and sticking the key into the ignition. “And…” The engine began to growl, which soon turned into a quiet hum. “There we go. Get some new upholstery and a new coat of paint on this bad boy, and it’ll go for 500.”

 

“You know I can just…” Ed said, giving the mechanic jazz hands.

 

“Yeah, but the National Tax Agency doesn’t,” said Yuichi, “And if I start selling a bunch of repainted and re-upholstered cars without paying for materials or services, they might get suspicious, which, well… I’d rather avoid. I’m happy to have you use your Quirk to make work I can do myself go faster, and it’s not like anyone can prove a spark plug or something was broken in the first place, but it’ll raise too many questions if the car is just magically restored to perfect condition without me buying any materials. Now, will they probably notice? No. But in case you forgot, the ownership of this place isn’t exactly legal, so I’d like to avoid their wrath if possible.”

 

“Fair enough,” shrugged Ed, lying down next to Himiko.

 

“I heard you talk to Mei,” said Yuichi, slamming shut the hood of the car, “I thought I told you to drop it.”

 

“You did,” acknowledged Ed. “I didn’t ‘drop it’ when the Yakuza was hunting me. What makes you think I’ll do so here?” 

 

“Just… Just don’t push too hard, alright?” asked Yuichi, lighting a cigarette. “Mei would have no problem locking herself in her workshop for the next year if she really wanted to avoid me.”

 

“Alright,” said Ed, grimacing.

 

“I grabbed the utilities map for the property, by the way,” said Yuichi, changing the subject. “Hooking up the trailer, though, it’s, uh… kind of expensive. Aside from the permit, we also need to hire a licensed plumber. So I was thinking for plumbing, you could set up a septic tank and just run water from my property to the trailer with a hose instead of pipes.” 

 

“Sounds good,” said Ed, “I’ll take care of that tomorrow.”

 

“Good,” said Yuichi, stretching his back, “In that case, I’m going to make a few calls.”

 

As the mechanic walked away, leaving Himiko and him lying on the ground alone, Ed closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It had been over a month since he first showed up at this world, and he still had no clue what exactly Truth wanted from him. It had something to do with the Philosopher’s Stones, of that he was sure. But did it want him to destroy them? Use them? Put them back together?

 

For the first time in a while, Ed truly focused on the Dragon’s Pulse. He was aware this junkyard was a peculiar place for it, given the general inhospitability of the property. There was no real life to connect with except for a few bugs. That’s what he was counting on. Perhaps putting some distance between himself and the overwhelming flood of emotion would allow him to get a better understanding of things. 

 

Hmm…

 

He tried to search through the mass of souls and emotion and energy for something distinct, in the same way that May Chang and Ling noticed Father underneath the capital. Only one thing stood out to him, but it was… oddly normal. It was far more geographically contained than something that powerful ought to be. Father’s tendrils spread out across the city, but this point was contained. And it was at a place Ed knew well. Judging by the distance and direction, it was… Takoba Beach? What the hell was at Takobah Beach that Ed had missed?

 

Unable to resist his curiosity, he got up and made his way out of the junkyard, ignoring the confused look Himiko gave him. He focused on that center of energy as he walked down the quiet street, until finally, he reached the beach.

 

“Midoriya?” Ed called, noticing his friend lying down on the beach.

 

“Edward?” said Midoriya, sitting up. “Oh, hey! All of a sudden, that pillar of emotion and pain that had beckoned seemed to diminish. “I was actually just, um, trying out your advice!”

 

“You were… meditating?” asked Ed, approaching him. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Ed broke his concentration just as that wellspring of energy seemed to disappear.

 

Izuku nodded. “I think it’s been helping,” he said. “Say… Does… When you meditate, does it ever bring up, I don’t know… strange emotions?”

 

“...Like what?” asked Ed, raising an eyebrow.

 

“It’s hard to describe,” said Izuku, scratching the back of his head as Ed sat down on the sand next to him. “It’s like… hunger, almost. But not for food. I… I feel myself wanting, y’know? Some of it is small stuff. Like… when I see an ad, I don’t just think ‘oh, that’s cool.’ It’s like I need to have it. I find myself thinking about being a hero a lot more, too. Just fantasizing about it.”

 

“Did you not before?” asked Ed, “I figured someone who goes to UA to be a hero would have thought about it a lot.”

 

“Actually… I didn’t,” admitted Izuku, “It was… It was always something I knew I was going to be more than I wanted to be, if that makes sense. I never really daydreamed about it until now.”

 

“Hmm…” muttered Ed, stroking his chin as though he didn’t know what the problem was. He knew souls inside the stones still had desires and emotions within them from Hohenheim. The only conclusion he could draw was that by connecting with those emotions, they were starting to leak into him. What he was really pondering was how he could help his friend while keeping the truth a secret. “If I had to guess… meditation has nothing to do with it.”

 

“What? Are you sure?” asked Izuku, tilting his head.

 

“I’m not a neurologist or a therapist, Izuku,” said Ed, “So take everything I say with a grain of salt. But you just got into UA, right? You just achieved the first big step on the road to your goal.” Izuku nodded. “Well… that’s a pretty big lifestyle change for you, isn’t it? I don’t think it’s crazy to go through some… emotional change, is it?”

 

“I… I guess not,” conceded Izuku.

 

“Besides, you’ve just done an amazing thing by getting into UA!” Ed pointed out, slapping him on the back, “That’s really impressive! Thousands apply and only a few dozen are accepted! So no, I don’t think it’s crazy for you to start thinking ‘hey, I deserve this’ when you see something you want.”

 

“Oh, god, do you think I’m getting too big an ego!?” said Izuku, face going pale.

 

“Who gives a crap?” shrugged Ed, “Just don’t be an asshole to people. My advice? Figure out a way to indulge those feelings instead of trying to make ‘em go away.”

 

“Thanks, Ed,” sighed Izuku. “It’s been really stressful lately, and I can’t really talk to people at school about this.”

 

“What do you mean?” asked Ed, frowning slightly.

 

Izuku’s eyes widened slightly, as if he said something he shouldn’t have. “I… I have a hard time talking about my Quirk,” he admitted, “It kind of… recently showed up.”

 

“And that stops you from talking about this because…” Ed began.

 

“Because I got into this meditation thing because of that new Quirk,” Izuku finished, “So if I talk about specifics with other people, then, um, I kind of have to talk about my Quirk.”

 

“And… that stops you because,” Ed repeated.

 

“I… People haven’t always, um, been… accepting of me not having a Quirk,” Izuku explained.

 

At this, Ed raised an eyebrow. What the hell did he mean ‘not accepting’? It’s not like people back home weren’t accepted for not being an alchemist, and weren’t Quirks just the result of alchemy? He…

 

Oh. 

 

This was a world where everything had a Quirk. To not have a Quirk was almost like..

 

Missing a limb.

 

“Can I show you something?” Ed asked. Izuku nodded, and so he rolled up his left pant leg, revealing his automail prosthetic. “I lost it when I was eleven. I was lucky enough to get a good prosthetic, but it wasn’t exactly subtle most of the time. It used to creak like hell when I first got it, and metal footsteps are a pain in the ass sometimes. You know what I did when someone gave me crap for having a metal leg?” Izuku stared at him for a few moments before shaking his head. “I hit ‘em so hard they never did again. Don’t be scared to talk to your friends about your problems. If they’re bastards about it, kick their asses.”

 

Izuku chuckled. “Thanks, Ed,” he said. Cautiously, he reached down and placed a hand on his metal leg. “How… How did you lose it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

 

“That… That is a long and complicated story, Izuku,” said Ed, “But to keep things simple, my brother and I were in an accident.”

 

“An accident?” said Izuku.

 

Ed nodded. “My father was a… scientist, I guess,” he explained, trying to tell as much of the truth he could get away with. “One day, my brother and I went into his lab when he wasn’t home, and, um… something went wrong. I lost my leg and my brother’s… skin got really messed up.”

 

“You… Was he alright?” asked Izuku.

 

“Not… It depends,” said Ed, “His condition didn’t, um, go away, but he’s going to get better… eventually. He’s always been in pretty good spirits.”

 

“That’s… I’m glad to hear it,” said Izuku, “Thank you for talking with me, Ed.”

 

“No problem,” nodded Ed, standing up and stretching.

 

“I should probably get going,” Izuku continued, following his lead, “We’ve got a big class field trip tomorrow. They’ve got this super big emergency rescue simulator at UA.”

“Sounds like a good time,” said Ed.

 

As his friend got up and began to make his way back home, he felt a sudden buzzing in his pocket. The sensation confused him for a moment, until he remembered the cell phone Overhaul gave him. Pulling it out revealed the two-word message from the unknown number.

 

Come tomorrow.
____________________________________________________________________________

 

This was not a cause for alarm, Greed decided. He wasn’t worried about his host finding out he was there because that would imply he was hiding from the Ninth, which he definitely was not. Hiding his presence was akin to lying about his presence, and Greed did not tell lies. He knew that his presence was becoming more and more clear to his host. He could feel his emotions starting to leak out and affect him more and more, and of his memories were being recalled not at his own volition. 

 

This was not a cause for alarm, but it certainly was a cause for annoyance. Greed was confident there was nothing he could do to stop him from taking over this body in time short of trying to remove him entirely. Even that wasn’t a sure deal. This was still a human body. He couldn’t just reach in and remove him. Without surgery, there was only the pleasant and unpleasant option for getting him out, and given how his power was enough to blow up his host’s arms, he imagined he could probably blow up his entire GI track before he was removed, although being stuck in a corpse was only slightly preferable to being thrown into the trash. 

 

Still, he was confident it wouldn’t come to that. He knew human desire all too well, and there was no way his host would give up a Quirk, the thing he wanted most for his entire life. He wouldn’t fully understand the risk he faced until it was too late, and so he wouldn’t resort to truly drastic measures.

 

Greed supposed that if he truly wanted to, he could try and reach out to Izuku Midoriya and not take advantage of his ignorance. He could lay his cards on the table and let him know that he was coming for him. But that seemed like a lot of effort, and Greed honestly didn’t care. Why bother giving him a better chance of staying in charge if it meant a boost from .1 to .2?

 

Then again…

 

It would be nice to talk to someone.

Notes:

Oh boy, the USJ event. I'm sure nothing will go wrong (it's actually not gonna be till chapter 17 lol).

Also, I realize Quirklessness and Ed's disability aren't exactly one-to-one equivalencies, especially in the context of each Universe, but I think it was a good opportunity for empathy and bonding and whatnot.

Chapter 16: Ouroboros

Summary:

Ed continues his work with Overhaul while Izuku discovers something mildly concerning.

“So, where’s the bossman?” asked Ed, as Nemoto led him through the halls of the lab.

 

“Something came up,” the gangster answered, “He does have a business to run, after all. He can’t spend all day babysitting.”

 

“Then why’d he want me to come here?” he asked. “I’m not a dog for you to snap your fingers at when you want him to bring you your slippers.”

 

“You’re whatever the hell Overhaul wants while you’re here,” snapped Nemoto, “But for now… he wants you to take a look at some of the stuff in his lab. See what you can do before he decides what he wants you to be.”

 

At this, Ed elected to say nothing and instead began to contemplate that question. What did he want to be for Overhaul? He certainly didn’t want to be his accomplice, not that he had any great respect for law and order, of course. It was kind of hard to believe in that crap when your whole country was founded by a conspiracy to commit mass murder. No, aside from his moral qualms about someone innocent getting hurt, actually getting involved with the Yakuza sounded like more hassle than it was worth. But at the same time, he figured he’d need Overhaul’s help. He was probably far ahead of Edward in terms of figuring out a way to destroy the stones, and even if he wasn’t, there was no way Ed would be able to make all that fancy modern equipment himself. 

 

It was a fine line he had to walk, but Ed was no stranger to that before. Surely, dealing with Overhaul would pale in comparison to trying to hide a coup d’etat from a nearly all-powerful cabal run by an immortal demon.

 

Nemoto soon led him to Overhaul’s lab, pulling open the door to the empty room with blinding fluorescent lights. On the large, white counter in the center of the room sat a single manilla folder with a glass dish next to it.

 

“Let me know if you need help operating the machinery,” said Nemoto, taking a seat on a stool in the corner.

 

“Uh huh,” nodded Ed, opening the folder.

 

Inside was a single, handscrawled note next to a sheet of paper.

 

Next to you is a sample of DNA from one of my underlings, it read, I’ve managed to isolate the Quirk genes. Don’t blow anything up - Overhaul.

 

The sheet of paper seemed to be a profile of some kind, presumably of the person who the DNA sample belonged to. His name was Yu Hojo, and his Quirk was called Crystalize for obvious reasons. Ed skimmed the profile but was only half paying attention, instead trying to comprehend what the hell a ‘Quirk gene’ was. He had thought the stones were the Quirks up until now, but apparently, they were also genetic?

 

How the hell did that work? Was the stone what created the DNA? Or was it vice versa somehow? And what did those genes even do to affect the alchemy? 

 

Wait… Alchemy!

 

Alchemy wasn’t just power or energy; it was directed power and energy. A Philosopher’s Stone alone couldn’t turn air to fire or turn someone into a chimera; it had to be directed. Both Alchemy and Alkahestry needed their symbols, their circles, to actually affect matter. The alchemical circle was no magic; it was merely a formula, instructions to show the energy what it ought to do.

 

And what was DNA if not instructions, telling cells what to do? Quirks were just another form of alchemy, only instead of drawing power from the earth and guiding it through a circle, the people of this world drew power from the Philosopher’s Stones inside them and guided it through their own DNA. For those with physical Quirks, it was probably subconscious. Their body told the stones to cause the change with no real input.

 

There was only one way to prove the theory. He turned to the glass tray sitting next to the folder and placed both hands on it, feeling for the tiny scraps of DNA contained within. He pushed some of his own power through it, letting the Quirk genes guide it without any attempt to interfere.

 

After a few minutes, he set it down, with no real difference to the naked eye. Fortunately, there were at least half a dozen tools this room to give him a better look. He decided to avoid the massive high powered microscope in the corner and instead walked over to the small one sitting near the sink, placing the tray underneath it and flicking it on.

 

A grin spread across his face, not one of happiness or joy or contentness. It was one of satisfaction, the one that accompanied any great breakthrough for a true scientist like him. Because through the lens of the microscope, he could see them. Tiny crystals, reflecting the light off the small bulb.

 

He had done it. He had activated someone else’s Quirk.

 

“It sounds like we have a breakthrough,” said a familiar drawl from the other side of the door.

 

“Boss, I… I thought you were…” Nemoto stuttered, standing up.

 

“I decided to settle things on my terms,” interrupted Overhaul, “You work quick, kid.”

 

“Yeah, I… I think I understand how Quirks work a little better now,” said Edward.

 

“...Nemoto, give us some space,” said Overhaul. His underling quickly scurried out of the room, and so Overhaul took his place on the stool. “Tell me, kid, why do you want to do this? Don’t give me crap about human suffering. Why do you want to do this?”

 

“Power, it’s… it’s always been more of a burden than anything,” Ed explained, trying to be somewhat truthful. “It tore my family apart. Hurt people I cared about. It’s destroyed too much.”

 

“Vague,” said Overhaul, “But… informative, I suppose.”

 

“And you?” asked Edward.

 

“...Villain,” said Overhaul, staring up at the ceiling, “I hate that goddamn word. Thirty, forty years ago, if someone called me that, they’d be laughed out of a room. Seen as some crazy person who watched too many movies and read too many comics. And heroes? The only people who called law enforcement heroes were politicians trying to grandstand about law and order. We were criminals, and those assholes were cops.”

 

“So?” said Ed, skeptically raising an eyebrow, “Villain, hero, criminal, cop, who cares?”

 

“I. Fucking. Care,” said Overhaul, glaring at him, “A criminal is someone who breaks the law, but a villain? A villain is… evil. And a cop? That’s someone who enforces the law. A hero? A hero is good. These powers, they’ve… they’ve infected us with delusions of our own grandeur. A bunch of cops decided to start dressing up like comic book characters and calling themselves heroes. And we, in a monumental act of stupidity, started to dress up like comic book characters as well. Now people have forgotten what this is all about. We don’t want to follow the law, and they want us to. Somehow, it’s become a life and death struggle of good and evil, and everyone thinks the Yakuza is the dark side.”

 

“Oh, boo-hoo,” said Ed, rolling his eyes, “You really want to destroy Quirks because people think you’re a big meanie? You sell drugs and kill people, don’t pretend people only hate you because of a branding problem.”

 

“I couldn’t give less of a shit if people like me or think well of me, Edward Elrich,” said Overhaul, “I just want respect. The same respect the previous boss had and the respect he had before all this bullshit. I’m under no illusion of my own morality. If there’s a hell, I’m heading there. But I’m just a bad person, I’m not evil. And people don’t respect evil. We used to be part of this community, y’know. We were still running drugs and doing the same despicable shit that people call us villains for. But if you had a serious problem in that neighborhood, you came to us before you came to the cops. If someone so much as walked into a police station, they’d end up getting the shit kicked out of them. Now we have to hang around in the shadows. Assholes like Kusumoto have to shake people down. They used to beg for our protection, you know.”

 

“And I’m sure those who wouldn’t paid the price for it,” snapped Ed.

 

“You wanna belittle my profession?” said Overhaul, getting up from the stool and approaching the door, “Fine. You wanna belittle of my reasons? Fine. But just remember, we weren’t the ones who started this. Anytime you see on the news that some crazy guy is going on a rampage because they think they’re immortal, remember nobody started acting like the bad guy from a Saturday morning cartoon before they started acting like the good guys from one. You’re the one who hates power for its own sake. Because it hurt you. That’s like hating a sidewalk for tripping you instead of the person who built it. I couldn’t give less of a shit about an inanimate tool, I don’t hate kidneys even though all heroes have kidneys. I hate the bullshit that goes along with it. I hate it because of something that was done because of it, not because it simply exists. So, unless you want to delve into specifics and give me a good reason why you hate Quirks, stick your belittlement up your ass.”

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Hey, Midoriya, is anyone sitting here?” asked Urakaka, gesturing to the empty seat next to him on the bus.

 

“Oh, uh, no,” stuttered Izuku.

 

“Ok, I’ll find a free one,” she shrugged.

 

“Wait, no!” he blushed, “I meant nobody’s sitting there, not no, you can’t sit there! I’m sorry if–”

 

“Thanks,” she interrupted, sitting down next to him. “I can’t wait for today’s exercise! I heard Thirteen teaches it.”

 

“She’s great,” nodded Izuku, “Did you know she’s the only hero other than All Might to be in the top ten for disaster rescues for over eight years in a row?”

 

“Only if you’re counting current members,” Urakaka pointed out, “Nimbus was on the list longer than Thirteen.”

 

“Nimbus?” said Izuku, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Yeah!” nodded Urakaka, “She was on the list for twelve years from 2267 to 2279. All Might’s the only hero in history to have beaten that record.”

 

“Huh. Didn’t know that,” said Izuku.

 

“I didn’t know you were such a hero nerd too, Midoriya,” said Urakaka, “Can’t say I’m surprised, though.”

 

“Oh, it’s, um… just a hobby of mine, I guess,” blushed Izuku, reaching into his pocket and pulling out one of his notebooks.

 

“So that’s what you’re always scribbling about,” Uraraka observed, watching as he flipped through the pages. “Did you do the drawings yourself?”

 

“Uh huh,” nodded Izuku, stopping mid flip and letting her admire a drawing of Edgeshot that had only been slightly ruined by Bakugo throwing it into a fountain. 

 

“These are really good, Deku,” she said, snatching the notebook from his hands and beginning to flip through it, “Where’d you learn how to draw?”

 

“I guess I just got bored during class,” he shrugged, causing her to giggle.

 

“What’s… What’s this one?” she asked, turning the notebook back toward him/

 

“Oh, that?” he said, staring at the page, “It’s, um…” 

 

What was that, actually? He didn’t recall drawing it, yet it was near the end of the book which meant it was written recently. The other day, actually. He could tell because scattered around at the top and bottom of the page was notes from his book that he remembered writing yesterday at lunch. 

 

And the picture wasn’t just some generic scribble he could have done absent-mindedly. It was, well… He wasn’t quite sure what it was. It looked like a snake with wings or a dragon, eating its own tail, and in the center, there was a six-sided star. It seemed vaguely familiar, yet he had no idea where he had seen it before.

 

Oh, crap, Uraraka! She was staring at him. Was he muttering again?

 

“It’s, um, it’s an idea for a logo for myself,” he lied.

 

“A logo?” said Uraraka, tilting her head.

 

“Yeah,” he nodded, quickly scrabbling to make his lie convincing, “It’s become pretty popular in the US for heroes to give themselves a logo in the center of their costume. It helps make them more recognizable, I guess.”

 

“Wow, you’re really thinking three steps ahead,” she observed, as he shut the notebook and put it back into his bag.

 

“Uh… yeah,” nodded Izuku.

 

Where had he seen that before? The image of the ouroboros felt like it had been seared into his memory somehow, but he had no idea where. Wait, why did he know that was even called an ouroboros? It…

 

Wait…

 

He remembered. That man he had seen in his dreams. The one he fought in the sewer in his dreams night he was given One For All. He had a tattoo of the ouroboros on his eye, somehow. And in one of the dreams, he was pretty sure that he had one on his hand. What did it mean? Why was he drawing it subconsciously?

 

“It’s a fascinating symbol, isn’t it?” said an ominous voice from behind him.

 

“T…Tokoyami?” said Izuku, turning to face his bird-headed classmate leaning over the seat behind him.

 

“The ouroboros,” said Tokoyami, “The snake eating its tail. It’s fitting that such a symbol could be so ancient and yet so enduring.”

 

“Ancient?” said Izuku, raising an eyebrow.

 

Tokoyami nodded. “The ancient Egyptians used it nearly a millennium before Japan had an emperor,” he explained, “It eats itself and is reborn for eternity, just as the sun Ra died and was reborn. The Greeks thought it to be the perfect being, one entirely sustained by itself with no need for outside influence. The Norse thought that the day their snake stopped eating its tail, the world would come to an end.”

 

“...I didn’t know it was that old,” said Izuku, scratching the back of his head.

 

“Across ages and cultures, it has represented many things,” Tokoyami continued, “The connection of opposites, the unity of all things, infinity, the cyclical nature of the world, life and death, and rebirth. It’s interesting that you’d choose such a symbol as your own. Have you been reborn, Izuku Midoriya?”

 

“It’s… It’s not that deep,” lied Izuku, “I just saw the symbol somewhere and thought it looked cool.”

 

Technically, he was telling the truth about just seeing it somewhere, but it seemed to have implications that he hadn’t even begun to understand. Still, it wasn’t like everyone on this bus needed to know that.

 

“Then perhaps it is an omen of things to come,” said Tokoyamai, “Perhaps you will soon find out whether you are the head devouring or the tail to be devoured.”

 

“Alright, class,” called Aizawa-Sensei as the bus came to a stop in front of the large gray dome in the middle of the UA grounds. “I want everyone to exhibit their best behavior for today’s lesson. Most UA training facilities come with some risk of injury, but that goes double for the USJ. This is a structure designed to simulate actual disasters, and it was built with the idea of being a contained and isolated environment to conduct training in rather than a safe one. It is the environment that is simulated, not the danger. It is not common, but students have suffered burns and broken limbs here. If I find anyone goofing off, I will expel you without hesitation. Am I clear?”

 

“Yes, sir!” the class shouted in practically unison, a week under Aizawa’s tutelage more than enough to strike the fear of god into them.

 

As they shuffled off the bus one by one, Izuku shot a hopefully not creepy glance at Uraraka, which she returned with a smile. It filled his stomach with a strange sensation, one that was becoming increasingly familiar to him. At this, however, he resisted the urge to frown, for some reason. There was something that upset him about that innocent smile of hers, and he wasn’t sure why, which only made him more upset. Here was this girl, his first real friend in a decade smiling at him, and that made him want to frown for some reason. What kind of jerk felt that way? 

 

That initial feeling of upsetness that made him want to frown was a strange one. He wasn’t upset at her, but he felt upset about her. It was like those feelings he had discussed with Edward yesterday, like when he saw something he wanted and didn’t have it, only more. 

 

He took a deep breath and tried to settle himself as they walked through the doors of the USJ, settling that upset feeling within him. Things were good, he reminded himself. He had friends. He had a Quirk. He was at UA. All Might of all people was his mentor. 

 

Everything was going to be fine, he thought to himself as he made his way through the doors of the USJ. 

 

Everything was going to be fine.

Notes:

Things are not going to be fine, shockingly.

Chapter 17: It Hits The Fan

Summary:

Things, shockingly, do not go well at the USJ.

Notes:

Who'da thunk it?

It took a shockingly short about of time for things to go decidedly not fine at the USJ, even by Izuku’s standards. Thirteen had just finished explaining the facilities features and lecturing them on the risk involved, when a black and purple portal opened from the fountain in the center of the area and a horde of villains marched through. The alarms weren’t going off, and All Might wasn’t here for whatever reason. Aizawa-Sensei had shocked them all with his capacity to hold off such a large group, but he knew his teacher would only last so long while being so outnumbered without the help of his students.

 

And so many questions were raised. Who was the man with the hands on his face and that hulking monster next to him? How did they get in? Were they behind yesterday’s break-in? Were his fellow classmates safe or even alive? Was Ochako safe? Was anyone coming for them? Where was All Might?

 

Izuku, unfortunately, had a bigger fish to fry before he could think about that.

 

A shark, more specifically. That portal villain had teleported him into the Shipwreck Zone, and a villain with a shark mutation was swimming at him at full speed. Confidently, he powered up his Quirk, preparing to deck him across the jaw, only for Asui to come out of nowhere and kick him in the side. Before he could even react, he pulled from the water by her tongue, and he was launched onto the deck of the boat, with Mineta and then Asui herself quickly following.

 

“You saved my life, Asui,” said Izuku, in between breaths.

 

“Call me Tsu,” she said, climbing over the side, “This is turning out to be a terrible day of class.”

 

“Yeah. I keep thinking about what that villain said,” Izuku contemplated out loud. “They knew our whole schedule and who was going to be here. They must have gotten into school files while we were all stuck in the cafeteria. They planned their attack carefully, like Todoroki said.”

 

“Hey, wait a second!” screeched Mineta, “These guys can’t seriously think they can beat All Might, can they? When he gets here, he’ll pummel them into the ground!”

 

“Think about it, though,” said Tsu, “If they spent so much time planning this attack, maybe they figured out a way to kill him. Besides, we should probably worried about not getting tortured to death first. Let’s try and live long enough to see All Might again.”

 

“What!?” cried Mineta.

 

She was probably right. Izuku knew full well what All Might’s weakness was, but could they have learned it as well somehow? They probably had to have if they thought they could kill him, but how? And why? Well, actually that was obvious. He was the Symbol of Peace, of course they wanted to kill him. And it didn’t matter anyway. Regardless of the reason, Izuku would face this evil head-on.

 

“If they can beat him, we have to stop them,” Izuku declared. “No one else knows what’s happening. It’s up to us to be the heroes.”

 

“What do you mean we have to stop them!?” yelled Mineta, “If they can beat All Might, what are we supposed to do? Did you hit your head or something? Let’s just wait for a real hero to save us?”

 

“We do have one important advantage,” Izuku continued, ignoring Mineta who continued to whine, “They sent villains with aquatic Quirks here, which means they know the building’s layout, but they also sent you here, Asui–”

 

“Tsu,” she interrupted.

 

“Uh, whoops, sorry, Tsu,” he stuttered.

 

“Get to the point!” yelled Mineta.

 

 “You’re the only member of our class with an aquatic Quirk, and they sent you here instead of, say, the Confligration Zone,” he continued.

 

“Which means they probably don’t know what our Quirks are, ribbit,” Tsu finished.

 

“Exactly,” nodded Izuku, “See how they aren’t trying to climb into the boat? That means they’re hesitating.”

 

“So let’s talk Quirks, then,” said Tsu, “Obviously I can jump high and cling to just about anything. My tongue extends twenty meters, and, uh, I can also spit out my tongue and secrete a mild mucus, although that’s not relevant.”

 

“I just have some… power stockpiling,” said Izuku, still unsure how to explain One For All, “I can concentrate energy in my body for extra strength, and if I want, I can essentially overload a limb, but that’ll put me out of commission.”

 

“I’ve got these balls from my head,” said Mineta, demonstrating. “They stick to pretty much anything depending on how I’m feeling.”

 

Izuku and Tsu stared at him for a moment.

 

“Don’t look at me like that!” yelled Mineta, “I–

 

He froze midsentence, as the entire boat began to shake.

 

“You know… planning is all well and good,” Tsu began, “But… why don’t we just jump it? I know I can make it to shore if I’m not carrying you. Can you make it by yourself, Midoriya?”

 

“...Maybe,” he said, scratching the back of his head. 

 

The distance was definitely further than any jump he had made before, but in just a few days, he had gotten noticeably better with One For All. He activated his Quirk, and slowly began upping the power. Thoughts and images flashed through his mind. Of All Might, of his classmates, of Aizawa fighting to save them. He thought of his friends, of Uraraka, someone taking them away from him . It filled him with a mixture of rage and determination, causing One For All to spike.

 

“I can do it,” he declared, taking a few steps back, “Let me go first. If they have any ranged attacks, I’ll draw their fire. Tsu, you can carry Mineta, right?” She nodded. “Good. While they’re focused on me, you throw as many of your balls at them as you can manage, alright?”

 

“Uh… Alright,” nodded Mineta.

 

He took a deep breath as the boat slowly began to sink around him, before sprinting forward and leaping into the air. A few seconds later, he opened his eyes. The sensation of almost flying was nothing like anything he had felt before. The villains were yelling something, but Izuku more or less turned them down, too exhilarated to care.

 

Finally, he landed on the shore, causing a plume of dust to fill the air. Asui landed right beside him a few seconds later, with Mineta clinging to her back.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

This was an interesting development. Apparently, the hero wannabe enjoyed the mere act of using his power. Perhaps that was a side effect of not having any his entire life. If Greed could offer him more, perhaps that would make him vulnerable. Besides, it’s not like he was going to be giving away something that was his. This was already his body, and it would be his body using the power, even if it wasn’t his mind making the decision. 

 

Temptation was a careful game, but Greed had grown patient over the past few centuries of being a passive observer. He’d give the kid a taste of something more, and then force him to come seeking it out.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” moaned Mineta, as the three made their way toward the fountain where the villains entered from.

 

“We’ve got to help Aizawa-Sensei,” Izuku maintained, with Tsu nodding along as she wrung the water from her hair.

 

He was by no means confident that they would actually be able to help, but nothing would change his mind. If he was going to be a hero, he couldn’t just run from a fight.

 

“Oh, by the way, hero,” a gravely voice called as the three finished climbing the hill. Aizawa was standing across from a blue-haired man with his hands scattered across his costume, surrounded by leagues of knocked-out minor villains. It looked like Aizawa wasn’t exaggerating when he declared himself to be more than a one-trick pony. “I’m not the final boss.”

 

Faster than he could see, the black monster with the bird beak appeared behind Aizawa-Sensei, grabbing him by the back of the head. The three could only watch in stunned silence as he was slammed into the ground over and over again, before breaking his arm.

 

“You can erase people’s powers,” the blue-haired villain taunted, “That’s irritating but nothing impressive. When faced with true devastating power, you might as well be a Quirkless child.”

 

“Gah!” cried Aizawa as the creature broke his other arm.

 

“Tomura Shigaraki,” said the portal villain.

 

“Kurogiri,” Shigaraki responded, “Did you manage to kill Thirteen?”

 

“The rescue hero is out of commission,” said Kurogiri, “But there were students I was unable to disperse, and one of them got out of the facility.”

 

Shigaraki began grumbling and aggressively scratching his neck. “Kurogiri, you fool,” he growled, “If you weren’t our warp gate, I’d tear apart every last atom in your body. There’s no way we can win if dozens of pros show up to stop us. Game over. It’s back to the title screen. Let’s go home.”

 

“Did… Did he just say they’re going to leave?” whispered Mineta.

 

“That’s what it sounds like,” nodded Tsu, “I have a real bad feeling about this, Midoriya.”

 

“It seems weird that they’d retreat at this point,” nodded Izuku. Why leave now if All Might will be here in moments? It didn’t make much sense. UA would be hyper-focused on security after today.

 

“But before we leave,” Shigaraki continued, turning to face them, “Let’s make sure the symbol of peace is broken. Let’s wreck his pride!”

 

In an instant, Shigaraki was in front of them, arm outstretched and reaching toward Tsu. Visions of her turning to dust filled his mind, and before he could even react, he felt a hand wrapped around his elbow. 

 

The villain was grabbing him by his right arm, outstretched in front of Tsu’s head. Only… his arm…

 

It was still there. Dust was filling the air, showing his Quirk was active, but he felt no pain. Both he and Shigaraki were both clearly confused, but Izuku wasn’t going to question things, and with his other hand, punched Shigaraki across the chest, sending him flying away.

 

“Midoriya!” yelled Tsu, “Are… Are you alright!?”

 

“...Yeah,” said Izuku, flicking away the tattered remnants of fabric around his elbow. Seeing his costume damaged irked him more than he’d care to admit, but what he was really focused on was the black patch of skin seemingly writing around his elbow where Shigaraki had grabbed him. It look like no scar he had ever seen before, and it looked to be spreading. Curious, he pushed more of One For All’s power into the limb, and that black patch of skin began extend, quickly covering his arm from his fingers to his shoulder.

 

“What the hell is that!?” yelled Mineta.

 

“I… I don’t know…” said Izuku. Whatever it was, he probably had that to thank for him still having an arm. He decided now was not an appropriate time to freak out about it.

 

“Tsk,” groaned Shigaraki, getting up. “Nomu, kill those brats!”

 

In the blink of an eye, Izuku felt a sharp pain in his chest, and a moment later, he was again flying through the air. He caught a brief glimpse of what looked like Kaminari being… held hostage? He wasn’t sure…

 

He… He wasn’t sure.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

Uch…

 

What… What the hell? 

 

Why was it so bright?

 

“Midoriya?” called a voice, as he felt a slight pressure on his face. Greed quickly slapped away the offending hand as he came to… consciousness. 

 

Oh, shit. He was conscious. He was the one in control! Maybe it was the pressure and adrenaline from their body forcing someone to be awake after that hit knocked out the kid, maybe it was how much of One For All was coursing through his veins at the moment of impact, maybe Midoriya subconsciously gave him the driver’s seat so he could save his little friends, he wasn’t sure and he didn’t really care.

 

There was something here had a whole damn Philosopher’s Stone in it. A pretty powerful one, too. One that conveniently wouldn’t raise any questions. Greed sensed it the moment that arm made contact with him. It was going to be his. It didn’t take much to tempt Greed, but this, this was worth potentially revealing himself over.

 

“Convenient timing, dude,” said some blond-haired boy, “I, uh, I don’t know if you meant to do that, but I appreciate it. That guy had a knife to my throat.” 

 

“Yes, that’s all well and good,” said a black-haired girl leaning over him, “But please look at me, Midoriya. I need to check if you have a concussion.”

 

Widening his eyes and shaking away the dizziness, he began to slowly start repairing his broken bones and regenerating his damaged organs before gently forcing his way free.

 

“Midoriya, please!” yelled some other girl in a leather jacket, “You just got launched like… a kilometer and a half. Let Yaoyorozu take a look at you!”

 

Ignoring their pleading, Greed cracked his back before activating the power the kid called One For All, pushing that power into his limbs before leaping off the edge of the cliff and rushing back toward wherever the thing that hit him was. He was on a time limit. The kid would wake up sooner or later, and Greed wasn’t confident he could maintain his hold under pressure. It didn’t take him long to close the gap, reaching the fountain where the villains had arrived in only a minute.

 

Oh, would you look at that? Eighth was wrestling with some monster, which, judging by it’s appearance, was probably what he was looking for. And the other students had come out to play! How heartwarming! The angry one that the kid had weird feelings about had knocked out the shadowy one, and the redhead with the ice froze half of the monster’s body. Greed simply observed from a distance, waiting for his moment to strike. The jaws of the hero students all dropped as the monster began to regenerate its limbs with a red spark, but he wasn’t surprised. That meant the stone was indeed a powerful one. Certainly worth stealing. The weirdo with the hands on his face began to monologue about god-knows-what as the monster continued its assault, quickly freeing the shadowy villain before renewing its assault on the Eighth. 

 

There. A ravenous smirk stretched across his face. That was his chance. He spread his Ultimate Shield across his arm, sharpening it at the end, and practically launched himself at the Nomu, too fast for villain and hero alike to stop him.

 

“Young Midoriya!” yelled All Might, as Greed landed on his back. “What are you doing!? Get out of here!”

 

“Tsk, damn brat!” yelled Shigaraki.

 

“Oi, Deku, get out of his way!” yelled the angry one.

 

Greed ignored their yelling, and with his sharpened limb, he stabbed it in the back, causing the monster to scream in pain. It only took a moment for his fingers to stab into where its heart would have been if it had one, and latched onto what was there just in time for the monster to backhand him away.

 

He flew through the air at what would probably be a dangerous speed for a regular human, blood dripping from his nose, but nothing could wipe the satisfied smirk from his face. Because in his hand, there lay a glowing, red stone, which was slowly being absorbed into his arm. By the time he crashed into the ground

 

It was all his.

 

It was… 

 

“Deku?” called a voice from behind him.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Deku?” called a voice from behind him.

 

“Guhh…” muttered Izuku, rubbing a hand on his forehead, “What… What happened? That creature, he… Uraraka? Is everything alright?”

 

“I think so,” she said, giving him a hand up. “All Might’s here, I just saw him punch that monster out of the USJ. The rest of the heroes should be here soon.”

 

“Is everyone alright?” he asked, as she began leading him forward.

 

“A few minor injuries all around, but yeah,” she nodded. “Thirteen and Aizawa-Sensei probably got the worst of it, but they’re stable. Yaoyorozu and the others set up a makeshift medical… area, I guess, by the door. She should probably check you out, by the way. That was a serious hit you just took.”

 

“Are you ok?” asked Izuku, staring up at his friend.

 

With a confident smile, she nodded. “The portal villain didn’t get me and some others when he teleported away you guys,” she explained, “We just had to buy time for Iida to escape, I can’t imagine what you went through.”

 

“It’s… It’s kind of fuzzy, honestly,” said Izuku, rubbing his forehead. “I remember escaping the Shipwreck Zone with Tsu and Mineta and… and Shigaraki, he…”

 

Izuku’s eyes widened as he stared down at his arm. The black patch of skin that had saved his life was no longer there. Curious, he tried to push it out again, activating One For All, but that only worsened his headache.

 

“Don’t push yourself, Deku,” said Uraraka, “C’mon, I’ll ask Yaoyorozu to make you some painkillers. We should probably splint your arm, too. It looks like it might be broken.”

 

“Thanks,” he muttered, as she set him down on some step.

 

What was that thing? Izuku had not consciously summoned it, but he was able to use it. Had it been there all along? Was that what saved him from Bakugo’s attack during the training exercise? He really needed to talk to All Might once this was over, he decided.

 

“There you are, Midoriya!” called Yaoyorozu, “I was worried sick!”

 

“So now you need her help,” scoffed Jirou, following her.

 

“...What? Did… What?” he stuttered, “I’m sorry, did I…”

 

“You… You don’t remember?” said Yaoyorozu, pressing a cold rag to his forehead.

 

“Remember what?” he asked, frowning, “Did… Did I…”

 

“Midoriya, you… you landed by us,” she explained.

 

“What?” said Uraraka. “No, he… he landed by me…”

 

“No, he didn’t,” Jirou reiterated, “You crashed into some villain by us and then ran off like a crazy person, dude. You don’t remember?”

 

“No, I… All I remember is that Nomu… thing hitting me, and Uraraka found me. I… I must have been really concussed.”

 

“Honestly… you didn’t appear to be so,” said Yaoyorozu, “I’m no medical expert, but you seemed fairly composed. You didn’t stumble or appear dizzy. You even cracked your back.”

 

“Then… the second time, I must have, um… I guess,” he stuttered, “I’m sorry if I was rude, I… I really don’t remember what happened.”

 

“Don’t fret about it,” said Yaoyorozu, shooting Jirou a glare.

 

“Yeah, um… sorry,” said Jirou, scratching the back of her head.

 

“Here, take these,” Yaoyorozu continued, putting a few pills in his hand before creating a bottle of water.

 

“Thanks,” he muttered, following her advice.

 

The rest of the afternoon passed in a daze. The villains fled quickly after All Might defeated the Nomu, and only moments later, the rest of the UA Staff arrived. Izuku, as the most injured student with a serious concussion, bruises across his body, and a broken left arm, was separated from his classmates and brought to the nurse’s office along with Aizawa-Sensei and Thirteen. Recovery Girl gave him a quick look-over, determined there was no serious internal bleeding, and so sent him to a separate room for bed-rest while she went to work on the far more seriously injured teachers.

 

He had been staring out the window for an unclear amount of time, the combination of a concussion and the more serious painkillers the nurse gave him seemingly messing with the passage of time, but eventually, the door opened, and a skinny man with blond hair stepped through the door.

 

“Hello, Young Midoriya,” said All Might in a hushed voice, sitting down next to him.

 

“All… All Might?” he said, turning to face him, “Are you alright?”

 

“I should be asking you that,” he countered, “That was quite the hit you took, young man. But to answer your question, I’ll be fine. That battle will probably take some time off my limit, but I wasn’t seriously injured. I must say, I owe you quite a debt. If you hadn’t intervened when you did, I might have run out of time before being able to defeat both the Nomu and the other villains.”

 

“I… What?” said Izuku, tilting his head, “I… Intervened?”

 

“You don’t remember?” said All Might, raising an eyebrow.

 

“No, I… I got hit pretty bad,” said Izuku.

 

“You stabbed the Nomu in the back,” his mentor explained, “Your arm, it was… it was coated in something. I didn’t even know you could do that.”

 

“I didn’t either,” said Izuku, scratching the back of his head. “There’s… I think there’s something wrong with me, All Might. I’ve been having weird dreams, almost like someone else’s memories. And I’ve been having strange emotions that don’t feel like mine. Now there’s this. I don’t… Do you think you made a mistake?”

 

“Young Midoriya, there’s nothing wrong with you,” said All Might, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I think… I think it’s time I tell you a story. The story of how One For All came to be.”

 

He took a deep breath as Izuku waited in rapt anticipation. 

 

“At the dawn of Quirks, there lived a man,” he explained, “A man named Van Hohenheim.”

Notes:

Greed in the driver's seat, baby! Will this be a one time thing? Will Izuku immediately come to terms with what's happening and gain control of his power? Will this cause absolutely no problems in the future?

What the hell do you think?

(Also, just to clarify, the Ultimate Shield did not somehow nullify Shigaraki's Quirk. It simply regenerated faster than it disintegrated, thus protecting Midoriya's actual body.)

Chapter 18: Elaborating

Summary:

All Might elaborates.

“Is that a Japanese name?” said Izuku, raising an eyebrow, “Van… Hohenheim. It sounds European.”

 

“I’ll get to that if you let me finish the story,” said All Might.

 

“Sorry,” Izuku muttered meekly.

 

“Now, Van Hohenheim was very poor,” his mentor continued, “He and his older brother lived in the most squalid part of their city. Van lacked a Quirk, but his brother, his brother had the most powerful Quirk of them all. The power to give and take Quirks. His name… Well, I only know him as All For One.”

 

Izuku’s eyes widened. The power to give and take Quirks? That should be impossible! Quirks were just genetics! Could he really change someone’s DNA? And why just DNA related to Quirks?

 

“His brother used his power to escape their poverty,” said All Might, used to ignoring his protege’s mutterings by now, “But he was a power-hungry man. He thought himself a God, and so Van Hohenheim tried to stop him. To try and sway his brother, All For One gave him a Quirk. A stockpiling Quirk, specifically, one that stored and grew the user’s power. Yet Van Hohenheim’s mind was unchanged. He lived in the shadows, growing his power, hoping it would one day be strong enough to take down his brother. But at the end of his life, he knew he had failed. He was too weak, and with his many Quirks, All For One had an unnatural lifespan. Only… it turned out he was not born Quirkless. He had the power to remove his Quirk, normally a useless ability, but when combined with his stockpiling ability, it created One For All. He passed it down to someone who continued his quest, who did the same, until one day… it came to me, and then to you.”

 

“So… there’s some super-powerful, centuries-old villain out there trying to kill me?” asked Izuku.

 

“I… I wouldn’t have given you that burden if I thought that was the case, Young Midoriya,” said All Might. He opened his mouth to object but was quickly cut off. “That is not to diminish your heart; it’s simply unfair to ask that of a child. I fought and finally defeated him six years ago.”

 

“Your… Your injury…” said Izuku.

 

All Might nodded. “He got off worse than I did,” he said, “I thought I had killed him, until… today. The creature at the USJ…”

 

“You think it had more than one Quirk?” said Izuku.

 

Again, his mentor nodded. “Shock Absorption and Regeneration,” said All Might, “And this wouldn’t be the first time All For One created a monstrosity to do his bidding.”

 

“These… These dreams I’ve been having…” said Izuku, “In a lot of them, I’m… I’m hunting someone. Do you… Do you think… more than just the power of the previous users got passed down?”

 

“I don’t know,” sighed All Might, standing up and walking toward the window, “But whatever this is… we’ll get to the bottom of it, and then learn to control it. I’ll be right by your side, Young Midoriya.”

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“So… What’s this meeting about?” said Tensei, walking into the conference room, “I mean… I know it’s about the attack at UA, but what do you need me for? Is Tenya alright?”

 

“Have a seat, please,” said Principle Nezu, gesturing to the opposite side of the conference table, “Have you met Detective Tsukauchi?”

 

“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure,” said Tensei, waving at the man in the trenchcoat sitting next to his old teacher. “Nice to meet you.”

 

“I wish it were under better circumstances,” said the detective.

 

“First, let me assauge your fears,” said Nezu, “Your younger brother is perfectly fine. He performed admirably today. If it wasn’t for him, All Might may not have shown up when he did.”

 

“That’s Tenya, alright,” Tensei smiled, sitting down across from the two.

 

“Now, what have you heard about the monster at the attack?” asked Nezu.

 

“Not much,” shrugged Tensei, “Just that it was super strong. Gave All Might a run for his money.”

 

“What we’re going to tell you is highly, highly confidential, Ingenium,” said Detective Tsukauchi, “Only a handful of people in the country will be privy to this information. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes, sir,” said Tensei, sitting up in his chair. He liked to play the joker from time to time; it made the job easier, but he knew when he needed to take things seriously.

 

“The creature known as Nomu that participated in the USJ attack had more than one Quirk,” said Nezu. Tensei opened his mouth to respond, but was at a loss for words. “All forensic data confirms it. We’ve detected several Quirk genes that corroborate the villain Shigaraki’s boasts.”

“Ok… That’s… Something,” said Tensei, trying to keep his composure. “But… what does this have to do with me?”

 

“What do you know about the vigilante known as Fullmetal?” asked Tsukauchi.

 

“Not much,” shrugged Tensei, “He fought with the local Yakuza in Musutafu, he’s been quiet for a while. Kind of short, I guess. What does he have to do with it?”

 

“A few of the criminals who were known to have been caught up in Fullmetal’s actions have checked themselves into the hospital over the past few weeks,” Nezu explained, “The reason? Their Quirks were not functioning. At all. The doctors are stumped. It’s like their Quirks just vanished.”

 

“So… you think there might be some connection there?” asked Tensei, “Because, uh… this doesn’t seem like his MO.”

 

“Well… these weren’t just regular villains,” Tsukauchi pointed out, “They weren’t there for money. From what we’ve heard, they’re more like terrorists. They thought wiping out All Might would cause the collapse of society.”

 

“Vigilantes aren’t terrorists,” Tensei insisted.

 

“No, they aren’t,” conceded Tsukauchi, “But they’re more alike than villains and vigilantes. They usually have some gripe against society. Fullmetal is a vigilante we know practically nothing about, beyond him having some grudge against the Yakuza. He may be a hitman for all we know, and we’re just reading too much into things. Quite frankly, it doesn’t matter what he is. We don’t exactly have many leads on people who can manipulate Quirks. If he were a pediatric surgeon, we’d still bring him in for questioning. We’d like you to bring him in for questioning. Offer him a pardon, if you must. At the very least, we need to know how he messes with people’s Quirks.”

 

“...Alright,” said Tensei, getting up from his seat, “But don’t expect much. Fullmetal has been quiet. He was hyperactive for a few weeks, and then he went silent. I’m honestly worried he’s dead.”

 

“We have full confidence in your abilities, Tensei,” said Nezu, smiling in a way that was more creepy than comforting.

 

“Uh… Thanks,” said Tensei, getting up from his chair, “I’ll… I’ll keep you in the loop.”

 

“Good,” said Tsukauchi, getting up as well, “Like I said, we’re someone stretched for leads. If it’s a dead-end, then so be it.”

 

He was barely able to make it out of his alma mater while keeping things together before practically collapsing in his car. What the hell did he mean when he said Fullmetal messed with other people’s Quirks? How was that even possible? And this monster had multiple Quirks, somehow, which was just a whole extra layer of insanity to throw on top of this whole situation, the ramifications of which he wasn’t ready to contemplate.

 

It wasn’t worth an existential crisis, Tensei decided. This was his job, and he was going to try to do it to the best of his abilities. There was no place for these kinds of distractions.

 

He’d find Fullmetal, wherever he has.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“So… you just eat the fish raw?” said Ed, poking at the roll with a chopstick.

 

“I’ve seen you beat up guys twice your size,” said Himiko, rolling her eyes at him, “You’re really scared of a little fish?”

 

“I can’t fist-fight salmonella,” said Ed, picking up the piece of sushi, “Well… here goes nothing.”

 

“I seriously don’t get how you read so much but have never heard of sushi,” said Himiko, as Ed took a hesitant bite.

 

“I don’t read about food,” Ed shrugged, speaking between chews, “I read about… science and stuff.”

 

“So what do you think?” asked Himiko.

 

“Eh,” shrugged Ed, “Not really my thing. Look how small the plate is.”

 

“We’ll do hotpot next time then,” sighed Himiko, “I seriously don’t get how you can eat rice and curry for every meal for, like… a month.”

 

“It’s cheap and I can eat a lot of it,” said Ed, “And it cooks quickly. I don’t like waiting for stuff.”

 

“You know, it’s really weird how little you know about some stuff,” Himiko observed. “I mean… I don’t think there’s two guys in all of Japan who haven’t heard of sushi before. I’d have guessed you’re homeschooled but I know for a fact you haven’t lived with your parents for like… five years.”

 

“I guess I just missed a few things,” shrugged Ed, trying to act casual.

 

He wondered idly if he ought to tell her the truth about how he got here. If anyone had a right to the truth, it was her. His lies to her might not have been as blatant as they were to Izuku Midoriya and she might not have done as much for him materially as Yuichi Hatsume, but she had stood by him the entire time he had been stuck in this dimension. 

 

It probably wasn’t worth it, he decided. Why bother explaining to her the truth when it would only create more questions than answers? Although… he would have to eventually, if he wanted to go home without disappearing out of the blue. That was going to be an uncomfortable conversation. Hopefully, he could put it off until he found some sort of solution.

 

“This is a stick-up!” yelled a voice from the front, as screams filled the air. Ed peeked out from their booth and saw two men in masks standing in the doorway, both of whom were swinging large knives around.

 

“Don’t,” warned Himiko, catching his hand as it subconsciously inched toward the metal rod hanging from his belt.

 

“Relax,” said Ed, “I can take these guys, no problem.”

 

“I swear to God, sometimes I wonder why you even bother with that helmet,” whispered Himiko through gritted teeth, “Your skull’s thick enough as it is.”

 

“I mean… It’s mostly to cover my…” Ed began, “Oh… right.”

 

“There are a dozen guys in this restaurant,” said Himiko, “It doesn’t matter if you’re not worried about the Yakuza anymore, the cops’ll still arrest you.” 

 

“I can’t just let them get away with this,” Ed maintained, watching as the cashier emptied the register into a takeout bag.

 

“You’re gonna get yourself killed or arrested one of these days,” Himiko warned, “But for now, just don’t be an idiot about it.”

 

“Alright…” said Ed, taking a deep breath as he placed both hands against the table. He felt his energy spread across the restaurant, making a mental map of the place, from bathrooms to the kitchen to the… vestibule.

 

Bingo.

 

It took only another moment for the cashier to finish filling the bag, and the two thieves began to make their exit. The first door closed behind them, but before they could open the second in the vestibule, he transmuted the locks of both of them shut, trapping them in the entrance. Edward opened his eyes and watched in silent satisfaction as the thieves began frantically pushing on the doors, but it was futile. 

 

“Did, uh… Did anyone call the cops?” Ed called. 

 

“Oh, r-right,” stuttered the cashier, quickly grabbing the phone from the wall as the robbers futilely banged on the glass. Under normal circumstances, they would have already shattered, but Ed had made a slight change when he locked the doors, transmuting thin layers of acrylic within the glass, making it effectively bulletproof.

 

Less than a minute later, the police showed up, and Ed transmuted the glass back to normal while the manager handed them the keys through the window. The two robbers were quickly arrested, and from what Ed overheard, the cops seemed more than willing to attribute the doors' jamming to being an act of God. One officer, who they both gave fake names to, took their statements, and soon after, they were walking home.

 

“Were you really going to just beat the crap out of those two guys if I didn’t stop you?” asked Himiko, once they were out of earshot of the crowd of police officers.

 

“Probably,” shrugged Ed, “I wasn’t just going to let them get away with it.”

 

“Seriously, Ed?” said Himiko, “You’re the smartest guy I know, why the hell are you so stupid?”

 

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to use my Quirk,” said Ed, trying to reassure her, “Didn’t need it.”

 

“That’s not the point,” said Himiko, “The cops still would have arrested you for vigilantism, and considering you don’t exactly have parents to bail you out, they probably would have sent you to juvie.”

 

“But… I didn’t use my Quirk,” said Ed, raising an eyebrow, “Isn’t… Isn’t that the illegal thing? That and me attacking them unprovoked. Wouldn’t this have been self-defense?”

 

“You… You really don’t get how this thing works,” said Himiko, “If you stick your nose where it doesn’t belong without a piece of plastic that says you’re allowed to, you’re a vigilante and you’re going to prison. Even if it was you getting robbed, if you hit them too hard, you’d go to prison.”

 

“That’s stupid,” said Ed, “If I didn’t do anything, they probably would have gotten away.”

 

“Don’t complain to me, Ed,” said Himiko, “Legal or not, I think you’re an idiot for sticking your neck out for strangers either way.”

 

“It worked out well with you,” Ed pointed out.

 

“Oh yeah, crashing with the questionably insane runaway delinquent is always the best move,” said Himiko, rolling her eyes, “You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew how close I came to stabbing you in your sleep and drinking your blood. Ed, I thank god every day we ran into each other, but that doesn’t make you less of an idiot.”

 

“Well… I guess I’d rather die doing what I think is right than live knowing I could have done more,” said Ed, looking up at the sky.

 

“Dying for what you think is right is easy,” said Himiko, “But would you suffer for it? If those muggers stabbed you in the heart, you’d feel pain for a second, but what if the cops arrested you and threw you in prison for ten years? Would you live with that? Can’t do any good, can’t help people, just sitting in a cell. Is that worth making sure two thieves don’t escape with, what, 50,000 yen?”

 

“Himiko,” said Ed, turning to face her, “You have no idea what I’d suffer to do what I think is right.”

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“My, my,” said Recovery Girl, poking at his cast, “I… I daresay your arm is fully healed, Midoriya. I was going to finish healing it today, but your body has done my work for me.”

 

"You’re serious?” said Izuku. Recovery Girl nodded. “I wondered why it wasn’t hurting, I thought it was just the painkillers. How is this possible?”

 

“With One For All involved, I tend to not look sideways at strange occurrences,” said Recovery Girl, “Yes, I know. Get your jaw off the floor. Now, we know One For All can physically affect the human body, just look at Toshinori’s ‘Hero Form.’ Perhaps instead of using it to create those silly muscles like his body does, yours has used it to heal itself. It’s just a theory, but knowing who your mentor is, we’ll find out soon enough whether it’s true or not.”

 

“So… am I free to go now?” asked Izuku.

 

“Yes, dearie,” said Recovery Girl, removing his cast, “If you feel any pains over the next few days, don’t hesitate to call.”

 

“Thank you,” said Izuku, getting out of the hospital bed, “Should, um… Should I head to class, then?”

 

“Goodness, no!” said Recovery Girl, whacking him on the forehead with her cane, “Class has been cancelled, but even if there was a class to go to, I would beat you harder than that Nomu did if you didn’t go straight home to your mother.”

 

“Oh… right,” said Izuku. God, how was he going to face his mother after this? The apartment was probably flooded from tears at this point.

 

“Here’s your backpack, dearie,” said Recovery Girl,“And I requested a set of UA gym clothes for you. I figured you wouldn’t want to walk all the way home in those stuffy uniforms.”

 

“Thanks,” he said, taking the bag and parcel from her. She quickly left the room, giving him some privacy as he changed out of the hospital gown and into those fresh clothing, before he made his way out of the nurses office. He was about to start heading down the halls and walking down toward the train station, but hesitated, and instead went to check his phone. Probably best to take care of that before he was walking down the street.

 

Yeesh, that was a lot of missed calls from Mom. He better return–

 

“Mmmnnn,” came a groan from down the hall.

 

“Huh?” said Izuku, confused. Weren’t classes supposed to be cancelled today? Curious, he made his way down the hall to where the sound had come from, only to spot a form in a UA uniform curled up on a bench next to a row of lockers. “Uraraka?”

 

“Huh?” she said, sitting up. “Oh, Deku, you’re up!”

 

“Recovery Girl just let me out,” he nodded, “What are you doing here?”

 

“She simply couldn’t bear leaving you here alone,” said a voice from behind him. Izuku turned around to see Midnight, out of costume, walking down the hall with a smug look on her face carrying a mug of tea. “Well… that’s not true. She actually showed up this morning, but that’s not as fun for me.”

 

“...What?” said Izuku, tilting his head.

 

“I… I just thought you might need help getting home,” said Uraraka, scratching the back of her head, “With your… Wait, why isn’t your arm broken.”

 

“Recovery Girl works magic, dear,” said Midnight, giving his healed left arm a poke.

 

“Something like that,” muttered Izuku, not really wanting to come up with more lies about One For All.

 

“I guess you didn’t need my help then,” muttered Uraraka, pulling out her phone, “It’ll be hard breaking it to… him.”

 

“...Him?” said Izuku.

 

“MIDORIYA!” called Iida, charging down the halls.

 

“That’s my que to leave,” giggled Midnight turning and walking away.

 

“It’s good to see you up and at ‘em so quickly!” said Iida, skidding to a stop with a filled to the brim tote bag in his arms, “When Uraraka told me she was coming to help you get home, I couldn’t bear letting her assist by herself! As Class President and your friend, the obligation is just as much mine! You’ll have to excuse my tardiness, I decided to take a stop at a local market to purchase us all some breakfast! I made sure to get plenty of food high in calcium to assist with your broken arm!”

 

“Iida, I really appreciate–” Izuku began.

 

“And I insist that you let me carry your bags home,” Iida continued, barely pausing to take a breath, “I refuse to let you exert too much of an effort in your current condition! I simply–”

 

“His arm is fine,” Uraraka interrupted, as he waved his arm in the air.

 

“Oh… I see,” said Iida, stroking his chin.

 

“It was really nice of you to try and help,” said Izuku, nearly salivating as he stared into the tote bag practically overflowing with bottles of milk, yogurt containers, and pre-packaged sandwiches. Even if One For All somehow healed his body, it apparently couldn’t compensate  for the simple energy expenditure of getting into a huge fight. “Breakfast… actually sounds really good right now.”

Notes:

So, uh, if it wasn't clear, All Might doesn't really know what he's talking about. He has no idea what the hell Greed is or who the hell Father is. What he told Midoriya is not what actually happened. He has no idea who the hell Greed is and is conflating different things and different people. The actual origin of OFA and how the hell Greed wound up here will be actually elaborated upon in future chapters. I will just say that (kind of spoilers) this has nothing to do with the 2003 anime's finale as I have not seen the show.

Chapter 19: Only Human

Summary:

Ed has a heart to heart with Mei while Izuku tests his new abilities.

Notes:

Sorry for missing my update last week. I've been super busy with school and, like, 3 jobs, only 2 of which are paid.

(And I've unfortunately become addicted to Silksong)

“Mei!” came the yelling from outside the trailer, waking Ed up, “I know you still don’t want to talk to me, but I need to know you’re OK!”

 

His curiosity and concern outweighing the awkward feeling in his chest, Ed decided to roll out of bed and approach the yelling, leading him to the small apartment above Mei’s workshop, where the Hatsume siblings lived. He made his way up the rusty, metal staircase, cringing with each footstep and the clunking that followed it, until he finally reached the door and cautiously stepped inside.

 

Although it was more of a house than the trailer he lived in, it wasn’t much of one. There were two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen/living room, in total, maybe fifty percent larger than his dwelling. Even if she wasn’t a technophile, it was no surprise Mei preferred spending time in the workshop.

 

“There was a villain attack at your school, and you didn’t tell me?” said Yuichi, leaning against one of the doors, “I had to find out from the morning news!” He glanced over at Ed, staring at him through the doorlight. “Fine. Be like that. But the next time something goes wrong, don’t be mad at me when I’m not there waiting at the hospital for you because I had no idea.”

 

The mechanic shot him another angry glare before pushing past him and climbing down the stairs. With the door wide open, Ed couldn’t resist stepping in.

 

“Mei?” he asked, knocking on the door Yuichi was yelling at. “Can I come in?”

There was a brief moment of silence before there was a click, and the door swung open. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through. Mei was sitting on her bed, with earbuds plugged in and silently typing on her cobbled-together laptop.

 

“What happened at UA yesterday?” he asked.

 

She shrugged. “Some villain attack,” she muttered. “Wasn’t even at the main building. I was fine. If you’re here to try and get me to talk to Yuichi, don’t bother.”

 

“I’m not here about that,” Ed insisted, “I’m here about you. I get wanting to avoid your brother, but why lock yourself in here all the time? I feel like I've barely seen you in your workshop anymore. You practically used to live in there.”

 

“I… I…” she muttered, staring at the ceiling, “I just see her when I’m down there.”

“Her?” said Ed, raising an eyebrow. “Oh… I…”

“She worked for those bastards,” Mei spat, the blank stare on her face morphing into an angry frown. “The people ruining our lives. She did their dirty work. And my dad, he just… just… went along with it! It was their workshop before it was mine! How do I… Would I even be like this if it wasn’t for them?”

 

“I… My father was a… a chemist too,” said Ed, sitting at the foot of her bed. “I got into it by reading the old books in his study. Mom said I was his spitting image. I hate… hated him by whole life. To be honest, I never would have learned how to use… my Quirk properly if it wasn’t for him. We can’t pick our parents, but they’re a part of us. It’s honestly a bit scary. With my… power, I can change anything into anything else, but there’s still this foreign element inside me. Something I can’t control. Something I can’t remove. But… I still use my Quirk. I don’t just pretend it doesn’t exist. I still love chemistry, even if I got it from my dad. You’re… You just found out your parents weren’t who you thought they were. You were proud of this part of yourself, and you were proud you got it from them, and now you’re ashamed of it. But it’s still a part of you. You can’t just… decide to not like building stuff anymore, Mei. You build gear like a fish swims and a bird flies. I’m not going to tell you it can magically stop hurting after a motivational speech; that’s stupid. But… all I can tell you is you can come to accept it. That it will stop hurting so much if you're willing to let it. That’s… That’s all. I don’t like seeing you sad.”

He sat there at the foot of her bed for a few moments before deciding he had done enough and made his way to the door.

 

“Thanks, Ed,” she muttered under her breath.
____________________________________________________________________________

 

“You have two weeks until the Sports Festival,” said Aizawa-sensei, his voice muffled by the bandages. “That will be your first impression on the world, and like it or not, that first impression will color how people see you for the rest of your career. You will have two more chances in the future to do better, but people will always be comparing you to how you perform two weeks from today. Only one first year can take first place, but it is up to each of you what kind of impression you make. It might sound like something teachers say to coddle those who underperform, but in this case, doing your best really does matter more than winning. Class dismissed.

 

Two weeks. He had two weeks until the Sports Festival. Two weeks until he had to make his official announcement on the world stage that he, Izuku Midoriya, would be the next All Might. 

 

He wasn’t exactly filled with anticipation for it.

 

Being the number one hero had never really been Izuku’s ambition. A year ago, the mere thought of having his license would be more than enough. Being in the top 500 would have been an honor for a Quirkless person like him. Now, however, he was truly beginning to feel the weight of being All Might’s successor. There would be scrutiny, there would be expectations, being the best hero he could be wasn’t necessarily good enough anymore. 

 

And he…

 

He was not ready for this festival. 

 

One For All still didn’t feel like his Quirk. It was like a wild, untamed horse that only begrudgingly let him ride it. He could only use three to four percent of its true strength before it would tear his body apart, and only a few days ago did he discover aspects of it that both could serve as unique Quirks in their own right. That black… armor, he supposed, was somehow able to stop Shigaraki’s disintegration Quirk, and it was probably what stopped the Nomu’s attack from turning him into a red paste. 

 

And then there was the healing. If One For All was truly responsible for his arm fixing itself so quickly, that could be a game changer. Quick healing would be immensely useful for any hero, but if it turned out to be full-on regeneration, that alone would be enough of a power for a top-ten hero. When put together, the immense strength it gave him combined with both regeneration and armor could turn him into an unstoppable force and an immovable object.

 

The catch was, of course, if he could master it. 

 

If he didn’t tame the horse, it could throw him off. For most of his classmates, losing control of their Quirks would be problematic. Maybe even dangerous for some. But it didn’t seem to pose the same sort of self-risk that it did for him. Losing control of that power might literally cause him to explode, according to All Might, and he very much did not feel in control of things. 

 

Fortunately for him and the entire class, the next two weeks would be light on hero exercises. The faculty didn’t find it necessary after their ordeal at the USJ, which meant the students all had plenty of time to work by themselves to prepare for the big day. 

 

To Izuku, this meant trying to figure out how to use the armor above all. Healing might be more useful in the long run, but he didn’t really fancy the idea of actually trying to train it. What if it ended up not working?

 

As he made his way out of the classroom and through the crowded halls of UA, Izuku was only half listening to Kaminari’s boasting on how well he was going to do, too lost in his own thoughts to actually give him any attention. After a short stop at his locker, he was heading out the back toward the gymnasium, which had been reserved for their use leading up to the Sports Festival. Technically speaking, they weren’t allowed to practice with their Quirks in public, and while Izuku would be able to get away with the mere act of having it activated while meditating, actual practice with it was beyond the pale.

 

The UA gymnasium was a fairly unique facility. It had all the usual trappings, weights, exercise machines, treadmills, and whatnot, but they were all much, much higher end. The weights could be heavier and the treadmills faster than anything you could find at a regular gym. And then…

 

There were the unusual machines. Ones specifically designed for hero training, ones that would have very little practical value to the average joe trying to get in shape. There was one he passed that looked more like something from an arcade, one with light up targets for the user to punch to train reflexes and hand-eye coordination. Another was just a bridge of rotating platforms that moved up and down, presumably to help students practice keeping their footing and moving in unstable terrain. 

 

The one Izuku was searching for was actually relatively normal, just not at a gym. It was a essentially a pitching machine from a batting cage, only it could change the angle it fired from and could shoot heavier or lighter projectiles. The point wasn’t to bat them away, but rather to practice dodging them.

 

That wasn’t quite what Izuku was going to be using them for. 

 

He had been spending the past few days trying to activate that blackish-gray armor from the USJ to no avail. It didn’t matter if One For All was active or what percent it was at, it still did not show up.

 

So… what about the circumstances at the USJ caused it to appear? Only two came to mind as potential causes. One was the adrenaline rush of that situation, his nerves were up and his blood was running hot. The other was danger. If it wasn’t for that armor, he would have died or gotten his arm torn off by Shigaraki. There wasn’t much he could do to safely give himself the kind of adrenaline rush a fight with real villains caused, but there were safer options to put himself in actual danger.

 

This seemed like the best one. Or at least, the one he could do on his own. 

 

Taking a deep breath, Izuku disabled the function that caused the machine to fire at different angles, set the projectile weight to its max, and turned up the speed, before standing directly down the barrel. 

 

This was going to hurt.

 

With a THUNK, the ball shot out of the machine and before he could react, it struck Izuku in the chest, sending him tumbling to the ground. 

 

Clutching his chest and breathing heavily, he stood back up.

 

THUNK!

 

Another ball, another hit to the chest, with the black armor nowhere in sight. Recovery Girl was going to kill him if he knew what he was doing. Without a moment’s hesitation, he got right back up.

 

THUNK!

 

The third ball struck him in the chest. This was definitely going to bruise. But Izuku kept his focus squarely on himself, on his Quirk, on trying to summon the armor, and stood back up.

 

THUNK!

 

THUNK!

 

THUNK!

Damn it! Why wasn’t this working!? Would this part of his Quirk only come out when he was actually in life-threatening danger!? Why!? It shouldn’t be this complicated. Quirks were just biology, something children were ablre to control, something everyone was supposed to have…

 

Except him, of course.

 

THUNK!

 

This time, the ball flew over his head. Izuku didn’t bother trying to catch it with his torso and suffering the pain of a 300 gram rubber ball smashing against his ribcage. His once clear head was now getting clouded by anger and frustration. This was his Quirk, his power! Why couldn’t he use it!?

 

Why couldn't he use what was his?

 

THUNK!

 

In a fit of anger, Izuku rose to his feet and punched the next ball to come out of the cannon. Only… his fist didn’t sting like it ought to. Eyes widening, he stared down at his palm. Where there was once pale skin and blue veins, there was now a black, almost scaly coating, with claws at the tips of his fingers. Tearing open his gym uniform, Izuku watched in disbelief as that coating spread from his shoulder and down his chest, covering it just before another projectile struck it. He barely felt a thing, a slap compared to the impact he felt earlier. 

 

Closing his eyes, Izuku tried again to control it. This was his power. It was his to do what he wanted with. He was in control.

 

The armor recoiled, and then returned, and then recoiled once more, all at his command. It hurt more than he remembered, like little needles stabbing through his arm, and his muscles ached as it expanded, but it followed his instructions. All he needed to do was envision whichever part of his body he wanted to protect, and the black skin would cover it. 

 

Still unsure as to what he was actually dealing with, Izuku dragged his uncovered fingernail along a patch of armor. It was hard, but despite the way it looked, it turned out to actually be quite smooth, almost like a diamond.

 

THUNK!

 

Another ball flew through the air, and Izuku spun around to block it. Only, instead of catching it or deflecting it, he instinctively swung at it, and the claw-like points at the end of his fingers cut the hunk of rubber to shreds that fell to his feet.

 

Unable to stop the rush of triumph from making him smile, Izuku turned off the machine before eagerly reaching into his backpack and pulling out his phone.

 

“All Might!” he said, only a moment after his mentor picked up, “I did it!”

____________________________________________________________________________

 

Heh.

 

The little bastard did it. He managed to summon his Ultimate Shield on his own. It wouldn’t be easy for him. The Shield still drew from the same power ‘One For All’ did, and if it hurt his muscles channeling raw power, it would hurt even more trying to squeeze out carbon from it. But it was a good start. Most importantly, he did it by acting like him. He was possessive and dominating. He didn’t ask Greed if he could borrow his power; he took it for himself. Sure, it hurt him to let Midoriya take what was rightfully his, but it was the price he’d pay for something much greater.

 

The more Izuku Midoriya indulged those feelings, the desire to own, the desire to take, the desire to control, the more power he ceded away. The more he mastered One For All, the more One For All would come to master him. It was a bit annoying that those feelings ultimately came from a selfless place, but in time, Greed was sure that they would fade away. A true desire to help others would slowly turn into a craving for the validation and prestige that came from being a hero. The kid was getting a taste of happiness for the first time in his life. He had friends and the respect of his peers. No longer was he an outcast for his lack of Quirk, and his mannerisms that once came off as creepy made him now just a little eccentric. He enjoyed it, he would crave it, and like the man who comes face to face with a banquet after weeks of starving, his indulging would be his undoing.

 

He even had a little crush. There was a girl in his class. She had a beautiful smile, and when she laughed, it made him feel funny. The specifics were blurry to him, but he was pretty sure that’s what it was. A human had three elements: mind, body, and soul. Given how Greed was literally inside of him and his power flowed through the human, he had a pretty good idea what the body was doing. It tensed when it was in danger, and it gave him ample warnings when it was about to be hit, so he could react even if he couldn’t see what was going on. And as a being made of a Philosopher’s Stone, and ergo human souls, Greed didn’t have too much of an issue looking into Izuku Midoriya’s and gaining a sense of what was going on in there. Ling once told him that friends and loved ones were a part of one’s soul, and that turned out to be more true than even he probably realized.

 

The one thing off limits to him was his mind, to which Greed had no connection. He could not see out of his eyes, nor hear through his ears, nor feel through his skin. He did not know what he thought at any given moment and could not see his memories, unless they happened to be particularly emotional. 

 

That was annoying, but not exactly a major threat. Greed may not know what exactly the kid was thinking at any moment, but he was confident that it didn’t matter. Eventually, he would succumb.

 

After all… 

 

He was only human.

____________________________________________________________________________

Notes:

So I hope this clarifies what the deal is with Greed and what he can or cannot perceive. There were a lot of questions about it in the comments, so I decided I ought to explain.

Chapter 20: Great Deeds

Summary:

Ed continues his work with Overhaul and makes an... important discovery.

“Damn it,” muttered Ed, staring into the near-empty refrigerator. One of the little Quirks of his current situation was Ed experiencing shopping for two for basically the first time in his life. Alphonse didn’t eat, so whenever they bought food, he only had to consider his appetite. And although Himiko was pretty svelte, she ate quite a bit. He tried not to try into her past that much, but part of him suspected that was because she actually had enough food to eat for the first time in her life.

 

Oddly enough, Edward actually found himself eating quite a bit less than average, despite food being much easier to come by in this world. The simplest explanation was that he was just less active. Back home, Ed spent a lot of his time on the road, walking from town to town, which left him with quite an appetite at the end of the day. Here, however, he was mostly either working on stuff for Yuichi or Overhaul, depending on the day, and while both could be tiring, it wasn’t all that physically demanding.

 

There was, however, another factor to it. It was subtle, but hard to deny. Ed had put on a few pounds. Nothing drastic, but enough to where strangers would probably be less likely to fear for his health by just looking at him. Skinny instead of gaunt. If his theory was right, and that Alphonse’s body had been sapping nutrients from him to sustain himself for all those years, then did that mean he was no longer providing for him? Did going into another world sever whatever link they had? He hoped that meant Truth had already lived up to their end of the bargain. That Alphonse was free and back in his own body. That he was eating a nice meal for the first time in years with Winry and Mustang and the rest.

 

Turning back to the task at hand, Ed made his way out of the trailer he now called home. Himiko was working with Yuichi on a broken-down car, bringing a quick smile to his lips as he walked toward the gate. He could even hear the telltale FWOOSH of a blowtorch coming from Mei’s workshop. The junkyard felt just a bit more alive. Nothing would grow in this soil, no plants could survive with the amount of lead and chemicals the ground had leached, but it seemed to not be entirely barren.

 

As he walked down the streets of Musutafu toward the grocery store he had come to frequent, Ed felt a sudden vibration in his pocket. It surprised him at first, but he quickly reminded himself that the cellphone did in fact exist, and so answered it.

 

“Did you have anything to do with that… thing?” said a familiar growl.

 

“What’s got you so worked up?” said Ed, raising an eyebrow.

 

“The Nomu,” Overhaul said, “Did you have something to do with it.”

 

“The hell is a ‘Nomu’?” said Ed, raising an eyebrow.

 

“You haven’t seen the news?” said Overhaul, “There was an attack at UA, some genetically engineered monster. Did you or did you not have anything to do with it?”

“Oh, that thing,” said Ed, “Why would I have something to do with that?”

“Because it had more than one Quirk,” said Overhaul. Ed’s eyes widened. “My man in the National Police Agency got me their report. They traced each back to minor criminals who disappeared over the past few months. Now… there aren’t exactly a lot of people I know who can remove someone’s Quirk. I know I had nothing to do with this, so that leaves me one option.”

“Overhaul, I had nothing to do with that,” Ed insisted.

 

“Well… if it’s no trouble with you…” Overhaul began. 

 

“Did you have anything to do with the Nomu?” a second, familiar voice finished.

 

“No,” Ed blurted out, practically against his will. Goddamn it, he was never going to get used to that sensation.

 

“Do you have anything to do with Tomura Shigaraki or the League of Villains?” asked Shin Nemoto.

 

“No,” Ed repeated.

 

“...Ok then,” said Overhaul.

 

“Wait, do you know anything about these people?” asked Ed, “If they can mess with Quirks, maybe they can help us.”

 

“There isn’t much information out there about them,” said Overhaul, “Some of my men heard rumors about a warehouse in Kamino Ward where some people were meeting. Said it was being run by some young guy with hands on his face. Probably Shigaraki.”

 

“Can you… tell me more?” asked Ed.

 

“Why do you want to know?” asked Overhaul, “Tomura Shigaraki is worse than a sociopath. He’s an incompetent sociopath.” 

 

“I don’t know, but… if he was able to do that, maybe he has information that will be useful to us,” suggested Ed.

 

“...Fine,” said Overhaul, “I’ll look into it. Come by the lab tomorrow. I’ve got something important to show you.”

 

Click.

 

While grocery shopping didn’t exactly require his full focus and commitment, he was even more absent minded than usual. The Nomu was made by taking the Quirks of different beings and fusing them together. It took biological and an almost metaphysical part of them and smashed them into one body.

 

It…

 

It almost sounded like a chimera.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Well, well, well,” said Miss Nobuko, as Ed walked through the doors of the library, “Look who decided to show his face after all these years.”

“It’s… It’s been eight days,” said Ed, confused.

 

“Excuse a lady for being surprised at your absence,” said Nobuko, as Ed sat down at a computer desk in the practically empty building, “You were here every day of the week for almost a month and then vanished off the face of the earth. What brings you back here, Ed?”

“Science project,” said Ed.

 

“Ah, I missed your vague answers,” said Nobuko, hovering over him as he began reading various news articles, “Oh… the USJ attack. That was so scary to hear about on the news. I can only imagine what those poor kids went through.”

“Has… Has Ingenium been here recently?” asked Ed, turning to face her.

 

“I’m sorry, I haven’t seen him,” said Nobuko, shaking her head, “If he shows up, I’ll let him know you were looking for him. I can… If you want to leave a note, or something, I can hand it to him.”

“...No, it’s fine,” said Ed, “Just let him know I hope his brother is alright.”

 

“...Ok,” Nobuko said, returning to her desk.

 

There were hundreds of news articles from what felt like every outlet in Japan writing about the attack and speculating on the nature of the League of Villains, but none provided a concrete source on what exactly the Nomu was. There was certainly nothing that verified Overhaul’s claim that it had multiple Quirks or that it was a genetically engineered monster, but he supposed that they wouldn’t say as much if it was true.

 

Huh…

 

That was interesting…

 

This one article claimed the attack was a… false flag? That the government organized it to test some new weapon they were secretly developing. If the Nomu were anything like Chimera, maybe that held water.

 

…

 

After giving it a quick read-through, Ed determined that it did not hold water. Perhaps the website being called ‘Konspiracy Korner’ should have been a bit of a giveaway. It was all conjecture without any actual evidence backing up the claim. Out of sheer curiosity as to what kind of nutjobs would buy this stuff, he took a peak at the comment section. 

 

F*CKENDVR: There’s definitely much more to this story that they aren’t telling you. I can’t disclose specifics but I have a source at UA who can confirm that Nomu isn’t just some villain.

 

Yeah. Nutjobs.

 

Then again, he supposed if he ran around claiming that the country of Amestris was controlled by a conspiracy of generals trying to create a Philosopher’s Stone, they would have said the same too. If there was one thing these guys were right about, it was that the official story wasn’t the whole one.

 

His eyes glanced at the clock in the corner of the screen.

 

Shit, he was going to be late.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“I’m glad you’re here,” said Overhaul, as the two stepped into his lab, “I’ve cracked the code, Elrich.”

“The code of… what exactly?” Ed asked, as Overhaul placed a petri dish under a microscope.

 

“Take a look,” said the mobster, gesturing at the device. 

 

Ed gave him a skeptical look, but decided to gaze through the lense. He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at, but the energy he sensed told him there was some part of a Philosopher’s Stone in there.

 

“This, here, is an isolated Quirk,” said Overhaul, “It was a pain in the ass to seperate from the rest of the body, but I got it, along with the substance you call a Philosopher’s Stone. Watch what happens when I add in my serum.”

 

A faint fizzing sound filled the air, and a few moments later, all Ed could see was the crimson red of the stone in the dish.

 

“What… What am I looking at, Overhaul?” asked Ed.

 

“I’ve done it,” said Overhaul, “I designed a serum that targets and destroys the Quirk gene in a human body. It’ll take time to perfect, and even more to deploy it at scale, but for the first time in my life… it’s… it’s within my grasp, Elrich.”

 

“How… How did you do it?” asked Ed, staring at him in disbelief.

 

“It was all you, Edward Elrich,” said Overhaul, a near insane smile spreading on his face, noticeable despite his mask. “I had developed the theoretical gene erasing long before I met you. The problem was delivery. How do I get the body to act on the genetic code to erase Quirks? For the longest time, I had been thinking about developing a virus to do it for me, but that, well… problems. It would be too slow-acting, and I lacked the proper equipment to design one. It wasn't until you showed me the stone that I got it to work. What I injected into that petri dish is essentially a Quirk that erases Quirks, and I got it to draw power from the Philosopher’s Stone within a person’s body.”

 

At this, Ed frowned, trying to conceal his disappointment. “And the stone itself?” he asked, staring at the red substance through the microscope.

 

“What do you mean?” asked Overhaul.

 

“Does… Does it just sit there?” he clarified, “Does it just remain in the body forever?”

 

“I suppose so,” shrugged Overhaul, “Why does it matter?”

 

“I don’t know,” lied Edward, “Don’t you think it might be dangerous? We don’t know what’ll happen when the power source can’t activate. It could be harmful.”

“Hmm…” muttered Overhaul, staring at his files, “I’ll look into it. But don’t be so grim, kid. We’re one step closer to our goal.”

“...Yeah,” said Ed, “One step closer.”

 

With the yakuza boss looking away, Ed placed his hands on the petri dish and activated his alchemy, feeling for the serum Overhaul had injected into it. It felt like DNA, based on his admittedly limited experience with it. But… there was something else in there too. Something with energy. 

 

Another stone? No, not a whole one. Not even a shard of one. A shard of a shard of a shard of one. If the average person contained one one-tenth of a one-soul stone, what was in this serum was a tenth of a tenth of a tenth split into a thousand pieces. He could sense it in the serum, and it was distinct from the one he originally sensed in the petri dish. It was weak, but the emotion he sensed from it, it was palpable. The pain contained within it was orders of magnitude greater than the energy it put out. 

 

But what the hell was it doing there? If Overhaul made this serum, how did he put a Philosopher’s Stone in there? Why would he have done that? Wasn’t the whole point of it to use the victim’s Stone?

No, he couldn’t have put it in there intentionally. The shard was too small and too weak to serve any purpose. That meant it wound up in there by mistake. As Nemoto stepped into the room and began to speak with his boss in a hushed tone, Ed carefully and quetly fused the shard back together. The little flake, now solid, rose to the surface before he pocketed it.

 

As he held the flake, no more than a centimeter in radius but emitting so much pain, a realization slowly dawned on him. Overhaul hadn’t designed the serum from scratch. If it was indeed a Quirk that erased other Quirks, he had created it by modifying an existing Quirk. When he extracted the Quirk gene he turned into the serum, he had accidentally pulled out a tiny bit of a Philosopher’s Stone.

 

He knew what he had to do. Da–Hohenheim, he mentally corrected, was able to speak with the souls inside of the stone within his body. Maybe, just maybe, he could figure out why this tiny speck was so strong in emotion. He closed his eyes and squeezed it tight, breathing deeply, before placing it against his heart. With the Dragon’s Pulse, he sensed the shard, and then his own soul, and with a slow exhale, he tried to press his soul against it.

 

It was dark. It was cold. Everything hurt. She was hungry. She was scared. Footsteps were coming from the hallway.  It was him. 

 

“Oh, Eri?” he said, his voice dripping with scorn, “We’ve got work to do.”

 

From the shadow by the door, his beak poked through.

 

That was all Ed could see before the pain overwhelmed him. 

 

“Kid?” called Overhaul, placing his hand on his shoulder. He resisted the urge to recoil. “Are you alright?”

“...Yeah,” nodded Ed, taking slow breaths, “I’m… I’m fine.”

“Good,” said Overhaul, “We’re going to do great things together, Edward Elrich, I can see it. A world where people aren’t corrupted by power anymore. I’ll need your help refining the serum, but that can wait. I looked into Shigaraki, by the way. There’s nothing on him. He showed up out of literally nowhere, but some bigshot named Giren vouched for him. All I know is that he gathered a bunch of villains at some warehouse in Kamino Ward, and the cops are all over it already. Don’t lose too much sleep over him. He’s just some crackpot.”

“I won’t,” said Ed, “It’s not like he’ll be a problem much longer, right? It’s not like anyone will be.”

 

“Exactly,” grinned Overhaul, “I have some business to deal with right now. Nemoto will see you out.”

 

“Do… Do you mind if I stay here for a bit?” asked Ed, glancing around nervously, “There’s a theory I want to test.”

Overhaul raised an eyebrow in mild amusement. “Ok,” he said, “Nemoto, stay here and supervise. Get the kid whatever he needs.”

 

His underling nodded and sat down in the corner before Overhaul turned and left, leaving Ed to his own devices. He made a great show of pretending to do something productive, which was convincing enough for Nemoto not to give him a second look, but really, he was focusing on his breathing, trying to see the Dragon’s Pulse. If whatever process created this serum inflicted so much pain on that fragment, he should be able to sense its source.

 

Almost immediately, he felt a shiver down his spine, immediately enough for him to be a little surprised he hadn’t noticed it sooner. He supposed he just needed to practice trying to see the Dragon’s Pulse casually. Ling or Mei Chang probably would have noticed it the second they set foot in the building. The energy below him was cold and shaky, like a dog whimpering in a corner.

 

“Hey, Nemoto,” said Ed, “Take a look at this.”

Without a word, the mobster approached him with a look halfway in between curiosity and annoyance. 

 

“I think there’s something wrong with this microscope,” he said, setting the petri dish before picking it up.

 

“What is it?” asked Nemoto, thankfully not using his Quirk.

 

“Take a look,” said Ed, gesturing toward the lens. As the man leaned forward, Ed reached for the metal bar that hung from his belt, carefully unclipping it before…

 

THUNK!

 

The mobster collapsed in a heap on the ground, as Ed turned the bar into his helmet and transmuted the red dye of his jacket black. He doubted they wouldn’t eventually put two-and-two together if he got caught doing what he was about to do, but he figured there was no reason not to roll the dice. He made his way out of the lab and carefully snuck through the winding tunnels that made up the Shie Hassaikai headquarters, occasionally transmuting a hole in the wall or ground for him to hide in as a guard snuck past. Eventually, he made his way down a corridor with an imposing black metal door at its end. Immediately, he could sense that whatever he was looking for was behind it. The disturbed chi permeated through it. 

 

The physical door was at least an inch thick and had a few different locks on it, but it was no problem for Ed. A few quick transmutations, and the locks were undone. But he didn’t immediately push it open. Whatever was behind that door was tied to Overhaul’s serum. It could be dangerous or guarded, and so he simply stood there with his hands pressed against the door, pushing his alchemy through the walls and trying to get a sense of what was inside there. All he really noticed in terms of security was a single camera (which he disabled by transmuting one of the wires into rubber), and one living thing.

 

That was the source of the energy, and Ed was filled with a deep sense of unease as he got a closer look at it (in a metaphysical sense, that is). It gave off so much fear for something so small and weak. That unease was quickly replaced with dread as he pushed the door open and came face to face with…

 

With…

 

It was a ghost. She had to be. A spirit from his past who followed him here to haunt him. 

 

Because if she wasn’t…

 

Then what had he done?

Notes:

So... I'm sorry to do this to y'all right now, but I might be taking October off. I've just been really busy recently, and I don't want to have to stress about any deadlines. This chapter finishes up my backlog. Nothing more for this fic is written, so if I want to keep to a schedule, that means I have to write one chapter every week. Nothing's confirmed yet, but don't be surprised if I don't update for a few weeks.

Chapter 21: What's Done, Cannot Be Undone

Summary:

Save her.

She was hiding from him, cowering behind the small cot in the corner. If he were a regular man, she might have succeeded. The room was dark. It had no windows, and the lights were off. The only reason he knew she was there was because he could sense her spirit.

 

He opened his mouth to call out to her, but found himself at a complete loss for words. What the hell were you supposed to say in a situation like this? Dealing with a terrified child was outside of his jurisdiction. He was a soldier and a scientist, not a hero. His responsibility and training were in the application of force, in exercising the monopoly on violence that the state held. Most people with his title were obligated to kill on behalf of the government.

 

Even if he could think of something to say, he wasn’t sure he could muster up the strength to do so. The anger and guilt burning within him were suffocating. He felt far more inclined to destroy something than to say anything. Well, not something. A very specific someone. His blood boiled at just the thought of his smug face, and the only thing that calmed him down was imagining beating it to a bloody pulp. 

 

Eventually, he knelt and pulled off his helmet, deciding he needed to say something, anything, and just get it over with.

 

“Hi there,” he said, placing his helmet on the ground, “What’s your name?”

 

He heard a tepid footstep and sensed just a slight drop in her overwhelming fear.

 

“I’m… I’m trying to find my brother,” he continued, “He’s real tall and wears a helmet like this.”

 

She took another step forward, finally getting close enough to the light for him to not only sense but fully see her with his own eyes. It was the horn sticking out of her forehead that first drew his attention, followed by her hair. No matter how much time he spent here, Ed was pretty sure he’d never get used to the strange colors they came in. Hers was incredibly pale, almost white, and it looked as though it hadn’t been cut in quite some time. His focus only lingered there for a few moments before falling on the bandages around her limbs.

 

“His name is Alphonse,” he continued, trying to suppress the rage within him, “I just call him Al, though. Have… Have you seen him anywhere?”

 

She shook her head.

 

“Could you help me look for him?” he asked, “I’ve checked everywhere, and… I can’t seem to find him.”

 

“I… I can’t,” the girl finally spoke, “I’m… I’m sorry, mister. He…”

 

“Did someone hurt you?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

 

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. 

 

“...Would you like me to fix your dress?” he asked, noticing the tattered state of her clothes.

 

She continued to stare at him with that mixture of fear and confusion, and so he slowly extended his hand. Initially, she recoiled, but he remained calm, and so she let him grasp the hem of it. Carefully, he patched up the countless tears in it and expelled the dirt, dust, and grease that stained it. 

 

“Hey… What’s your favorite color?” asked Ed.

 

The girl hesitated for a moment before pointing at the eyes of his helmet lying by his side, a dark, full red. Flashing her a smile, he transmuted the fabric to match that exact color.

 

“How… How did… How did you do that?” she asked, the awe seeping through in her voice despite the fear.

 

“It’s my Quirk,” he explained, “I can turn one thing into another.”

 

“...Quirk?” she said.

 

“Yeah, you know, your power?” he said.

 

“You… You’re cursed, too?” she asked.

 

“...What? What do you mean, cursed?” asked Ed.

 

“I… He said I was…” she mumbled.

 

He. He. Of course he did. 

 

“You’re not cursed,” he said. “Curses…” For a moment, he hesitated before deciding to correct himself. “No, you are cursed. So am I. Everyone is cursed. That’s part of being alive. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

 

“Wha… What?” said the girl.

 

“You heard me,” said Ed, rolling up his own pant leg and revealing his automail, “I’ve got my own curse.” The girl stared at his leg in shock and confusion. Ed grimaced, knowing what he had to ask. “Who… Who said you were cursed?”

 

Her mouth opened and quivered for a moment. She could not give an answer, only cry. Immediately, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed her head into his chest, only one though on his mind.

 

He was going to kill that bastard.

 

With a damp spot forming on his chest, he lifted her up into his arms and made his way back down the hall he came from. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, only that it would be rash, foolhardy, and it would potentially get him killed. But voices of reason in his head, Hughes and Winry, and the more aggressive ones, Teacher and Mustang, were in complete agreement. He had to get her the hell out of here. The only question was whether to do so before or after he went on his rampage turned this place into rubble. The responsible thing to do was probably to get her to somewhere safe beforehand, but he honestly wasn’t sure what that would be. It’s not like he could just take her back to the Hatsume’s. Even if Overhaul didn’t know about them, Yuichi would probably murder him if he put them all in danger like that. And it’s not like he could just walk into a police station. He fully knew from back home how easily local police found themselves working with criminals.

 

Hmm…

 

As he made his way through the tunnels of the Hassaikai lair, Ed called the only person he could think to call.

 

“Mustafu Public Library, how can I help you?” the voice answered

 

“Hey, Miss Nobuku,” said Ed, trying to sound as though all was well, “Could, um… could you help me with something?”

 

“Oh, hi, Ed,” said Nobuko, “Sure. What is it?”

 

“I know it’s a bit of a long shot, but, um… Do you know how I could get in contact with Ingenium?” he asked, “It’s… It’s kind of important.”

 

“Do… Do you need his help with something?” asked Nobuko, “Because if it’s an emergency, you should call the police.”

 

“No, no, it’s… It’s not an emergency,” said Ed, “But… But I really need to talk to him.”

 

“Ok,” said Nobuko, “Ok. Let me take a look. Someone from his agency gave me a business card, let me try to… here it is. It’s… ##-###-##-####. And… I hope everything’s alright. I’m proud of you for asking for help.”

 

“Um… thanks?” said Ed, not sure what to make of that.

 

Click.

 

Immediately, he dialed the number Nobuko gave him, and a moment later, someone picked up.

 

“Idaten Outreach,” said the voice, “How can I help you?”

 

“Hi, um… I need to speak to Ingenium,” said Ed, “It’s really important.”

 

“Ok,” said the voice on the other end, “Can I get your name?”

 

“...Tell him it’s Fullmetal,” said Ed.

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Hey, uh… boss?” said his receptionist, peaking his head into Tensei’s office, “We just got a call on the outreach line. Some kid wants to talk to you.”

 

“...Alright?” said Tensei, confused why this merited a confused tone.

 

“He, um… He said his name was ‘Fullmetal’,” said his receptionist, “Does that mean anything to you?”

 

“Put him through,” said Tensei, his voice turning deadly serious. His receptionist nodded and rushed back to his desk. A moment later, the red light by his phone flashed. “...I have to say, I’m surprised you called, Fullmetal”

 

“Is… Is this Ingenium?” asked the voice, slightly muffled.

 

“This is he,” said Tensei, “I’m gonna save you the whole shpiel about how you need to turn yourself in and just get to the point. I’m guessing you heard I’ve been looking for you. You’re a hard man to find.”

 

“Uh… sure…” said Fullmetal, the obvious lie causing Tensei to sigh in annoyance. “Look, can we set aside whatever weird cat and mouse thing that’s apparently going on for a second? I need your help.”

 

“My help?” said Tensei, raising an eyebrow, “Why should I help you?”

 

“Isn’t that your job?” said Fullmetal, the eye roll palpable through the phone, “What the hell are my tax dollars going to?” 

 

“We’re primarily funded by merchandise sales, if you must know,” said Tensei, “But my job is to arrest criminals, not to help them.”

 

“It’s not for me,” said Fullmetal, “There’s… I rescued a kid. From the Yakuza. I don’t… She can’t be older than four. I think they were experimenting on her. I… I need you to get her somewhere safe.”

 

“You… You’re serious?” said Tensei, eyes widening.

 

“Yeah,” nodded Ed, “How far are you from Nagoya?”

 

“I can be there in half an hour,” said Tensei, transferring the call to his helmet as he ran through his building, “Send me an address.”

 

“Ok,” said Fullmetal, “Get here as soon as possible.”

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

Making his way out of the tunnels was much easier than one might expect, given their meandering, maze-like layout. Most labyrinths weren’t that hard to escape if you could knock down a wall with a mere touch. He simply created his own tunnel and stepped onto the streets of Nagoya a few blocks away from the Hassaikai lair, with the girl still in his arms. 

 

The next twenty-odd minutes would probably be the longest of his life, he imagined. He agreed to meet Tensei by the train station, so he decided to make his way there for now, but the moment she was safe, he would be back.

 

He. Would. Be. Back.

 

“Where… Where are we?” the girl asked, staring up at him with those red eyes.

 

“We’re getting out of there,” he declared, “I’m taking you away from that man.”

 

“You–He–He–” she stuttered, her voice halfway between sheer joy and utter terror.

 

“I’m taking you somewhere he won’t be able to find you,” Ed promised, “A place where he can never hurt you again.”

 

Tears again welling in her eyes, she sobbed softly into his sleeve as he carried her down the streets of Nagoya.

 

“Y’know, I never got your name,” said Ed, “My name is Edward. What’s yours?”

 

“E…Eri,” she mumbled.

 

“Can you do something for me, Eri?” he asked, staring down at her. She hesitated for a moment, but eventually nodded. “We’re going to meet a very nice man, someone who can get you somewhere safe. But we’re playing a little game. He wants to know my name and what my face looks like. If he finds it out, I lose. When we meet, I’m going to put on my helmet and tell him my name is Fullmetal. He might ask you if you know what my name is or what my face looks like. If he does, can you tell him no?”

 

She was a bit confused by the request, but eventually nodded, and so Ed continued down the street with her in his arms until he eventually reached the train station. Ingenium would be arriving momentarily, he presumed. The two walked down an alley, where Ed recreated his helmet and put it on. By then she had fallen asleep, and so all that was left to do was wait. Eventually, his phone rang.

 

“I’m in Nagoya,” said Ingenium.

 

“Good,” said Ed, his voice muffled by the helmet, “There’s a cafe with a purple awning by the western exit of the train station.”

 

“...I see it,” said Ingenium.

 

“I’m in the alley next to it,” said Ed, “Come alone. I’ll know if I’m being watched.”

 

With bated breath, he waited in the center of the alley, watching the cars pass by on the street, until finally, the man in the white helmet stepped forward. The two men stared at each other for a few moments, with Eri keeping her face buried into his shoulder.

 

“I can’t say I was expecting to meet under these circumstances,” said Ingenium, breaking the silence.

 

“I can’t say I was expecting to meet,” countered Ed.

 

“You’ve been quite as of late,” said Ingenium, “A bit of a suspicious time, to be honest. Just before the attack at the USJ. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that?” Ed tilted his head in confusion. “This isn’t the time or place for an interrogation, but I expect you’ll give me the courtesy once this is taken care of.”

 

“...Fair enough,” shrugged Ed, “I… I went quiet because I didn’t need to do this anymore. I only put this on because I needed to protect some people, but…” He looked up to the sky, the quiet moans of a young girl turned into a monster playing in the back of his mind. “I made a mistake. And I’m going to fix it the only way I know how. I need you to get her somewhere safe before I do something… irresponsible.”

 

“Strange thing to admit in front of a hero,” shrugged Ingenium, “But… you called me, and you showed up. So… Do whatever it is you’re going to do. Just be ready to live with the consequences. The hammer would have fallen on you already if you weren’t quiet and non-lethal. If that were to change… I don’t know if I’d be able to come here alone.”

 

He stared down at the head of silvery hair in his arms. “You can get her somewhere safe?” he asked.

 

“Yes,” said the hero, “I know people. Whoever you rescued from, they’ll never be able to get to her.”

 

“The people I rescued her from won’t be able to get to her because I’m going to get to them first,” said Ed, “Consider this… babysitting. And if I find out she’s being mistreated…”

 

“If she’s being mistreated, you’re not going to do crap,” said Ingenium, “Because I’ll get to them first. What… What is her name?”

 

“Her name is Eri,” he said, looking down at her. “I… I don’t know what they were doing to her, but… but… It wasn’t good, Ingenium.”

 

“Do… Do you want to say goodbye?” asked Ingenium, stepping forward.

 

“...No,” he said, after some hesitation, handing her off to the armored man

 

Saying goodbye might give some closure, he decided. A sense of completion. The idea that he successfully saved her. He couldn’t have that for what would come next. Ed had come to the conclusion long ago that, to some extent, he ran on his own misery. He did what he had to do to make up for his past wrongs. He became an alchemist to make up for what he did to himself and Alphonse. The whole reason he had first put on the helmet was to make up for screwing things up for the Hatsumes. But it was more than just an abstract motivation. It was fuel. A reason for being, not just a reason for doing. He drew his power from that just as much as he drew energy from the movement of the Earth for his alchemy. He drew from it just as Philosopher’s Stones drew from human souls. Closure might satiate his fury and guilt, and he’d need every ounce of it to take down the Shie Hassaikai.

 

“I’ll get her somewhere safe,” promised Ingenium,  "Call me once you’ve finished… whatever it is you’re going to do. We really need to talk, Fullmetal. And if it isn’t with me, it’s going to be with someone much less… polite.”

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

The vigilante nodded, and so Tensei stepped out of the alley, carrying the sleeping girl in his arms. He carefully shuffled her to one side so he could push the small button on the side of his helmet with his shoulder without disturbing her, the one that connected him with the dispatcher in his office.

 

“Call Nezu for me, Hachiro,” said Tensei.

 

“Copy,” the dispatcher acknowledged.

 

The communicator in his helmet buzzed for a few moments, until, finally, there was a response.

 

“What a pleasant surprise, Ingenium,” the familiar yet sinister voice of his old teacher, “Did you get the tickets for the Sports Festival? I’m sure your younger brother would love to see you.”

 

“Crime waits for no man, I’m afraid,” said Ingenium, “I’ve got patrol that day. But that’s not why I’m calling. Do you… Do you remember that assignment you gave me regarding a certain vigilante?”

 

“Ah… Have you made progress?” asked Nezu.

 

“Eh, it’s more like progress was made,” said Tensei, walking back toward the train station, “He reached out to me, can you believe that?”

 

“Did he know you were after him?” asked Nezu.

 

“Honestly, I think he called me because I was the first hero he thought of,” said Tensei, “No, he needed my help with something. And… now I need your help with something.”

 

“First… Did you do what we asked of you?” asked Nezu.

 

“He agreed to call me once he’s taken care of something,” said Tensei, “If he’s still alive. He told me he was going to do something ‘irresponsible,’ and then he’d answer whatever questions I had.”

 

“And what did he need from you?” asked Nezu.

 

“Umm… He kind of… Found a kid?” said Tensei, “He didn’t give me the specifics, but he said he rescued her from a Yakuza group, a Yakuza group that has a vested interest in getting her back. The foster system can’t protect her, but the witness protection program isn’t equipped to deal with a traumatized four-year-old. So… might babysitting? At least until Fullmetal gives me more information to work with so we can determine what sort of danger she’s actually in.”

 

“...I don’t run a daycare, Ingenium,” said Nezu.

 

“No, but a high school is closer to a daycare than a hero agency,” Tensei pointed out.

 

“I suppose so,” conceded Nezu, “If this gets us closer to Fullmetal, I’ll watch her temporarily.”

Notes:

Uh sorry for disappearing for a month. It's been kind of hectic for me as of late. In no particular order, I... I kind of got roped into grading 2 courses, becoming essentially a TA for another, tutoring for people, becoming a research assistant for my Uni's history department, becoming treasurer for a club, trying to write a thesis, finding a new apartment because my roommate doesn't want to renew our lease, dealing with car insurance chaos, the awful, horrible, no-good combination of Econometrics I and Calculus II, and all the shit I have to deal with in day to day existence.

So needless to say it's been a hectic fall and I haven't had much time to write.

Anyway, perhaps it's a little anticlimactic, but I don't think the story would work so well if Ed had to rescue Eri while fighting the Hassaikai. It's kind of difficult for a character whose power relies on him pressing both hands together to carry a small child in the middle of a fight. So I decided he was going to rescue Eri and then go back and wreak bloody vengeance.

Which is going to happen next chapter, obviously.

Chapter 22: Hell to Pay

Summary:

Ed begins his quest to right his wrongs.

Notes:

Hey, uh... sorry for not posting for like a month. I've been pretty busy.

Ed waited for Ingenium to leave the alley before turning his cloak from black to red and transmuting his helmet back into the iron bar that hung from his waist. 

 

There was only one thing left to do.

 

He made his way through the streets of Nagoya, time seemingly standing still as he pushed his way through the crowd toward that large, seemingly benign, fenced-in house in that quiet suburb. For a moment, he contemplated putting the helmet back on, but decided it was pointless. Besides, he wanted to look Overhaul in the eyes.

 

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the gate open and walked down the path. There was a man leaning by the door, but he seemed unbothered by Ed’s presence, even though he was unaccompanied. Casually, Ed unhooked the iron bar from his belt, and once he was close enough, whacked the guard on the side of his head, knocking him out instantly. With some iron from the ground, he lengthened the bar into his preferred staff before kicking down the door of the building.

 

“What the hell are you doing!?” yelled a voice from the entrance.

 

Ed said nothing and quickly dispatched the three Hassaikai thugs by the door, only to barely dodge a massive fist that punched through the wooden walls of the hallway. The open wall, now turned to splinters, revealed a man in a black tank top with knuckledusters on his fists and a black and red bird mask, easily taller than Armstrong.

 

“What a pain,” the man muttered, “I thought you were the boss’s friend or somethin’. Eh, I’ll try to leave enough of you for him to fix.”

 

The beast charged at him, but Ed was faster. One of the few benefits of his short stature was being familiar with how to take down a larger opponent, and there was one universal constant: the bigger they are, the harder they fall. He transmuted spikes from the floor that shot out and impaled him in the door, causing him to cry in agony as he tumbled to the ground. Ed didn’t waste time with words or taunts, simply transmuting thick metal bands around his arms and legs, keeping him stuck to the ground as he stepped over him and continued through the base.

 

By now, the alarm had been triggered, and a small army of guards was rushing down the hallway to try and attack him, but Ed simply placed a hand against the wall and repeated the trick he had used earlier, transmuting the floor into spikes and letting them trip over one another as their feet were impaled on the ground, before transmuting the floor back to normal so nobody accidentally got stuck somewhere fatal.

 

Climbing over the pile of prone figures, Ed continued down the hallway, but as more of Overhaul’s gangsters came running, Ed decided to settle it all at once, creating an iron door in front of him that stretched from wall to wall, which he launched forward. He didn’t bother making sure they were all knocked out, and instead blew apart the floor, revealing the tunnels underneath.

 

There was a brief calm as he entered the Hassaikai’s true lair underneath the ground, a calm he took advantage of by trying to sense the Dragon’s Pulse. One aura stood out to him, the most familiar and the most malevolent, but it was far away. There were many, many closer auras he’d need to get through before he could take down Chisaki.

 

Ed made his way through the winding tunnels of the Hassaikai base, but suddenly stopped when his staff flew out of his hands as he approached a fork in the path. Down one of the paths, a masked man with blond hair caught it, with a man standing on either side of him.

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’?” asked the man to his right, a taller, muscular man with a perfectly bald head, while the one to the left, a shorter man with a sack for a mask, just snickered.

 

Ed said nothing, simply pressing a hand on the ground and reforming his staff, but this one too flew from his hand just as he formed it. He stared down the three men, waiting for them to make a move, before growing impatient and again pressing his hand on the ground. This time, however, instead of making a staff, he demolished the floor underneath them and reformed it as they fell. Now stuck up to their necks in concrete, Ed walked passed them as they screamed and cursed at him.

 

He ignored them and moved on, only stopping for a brief moment to cover their mouths so they wouldn’t give him away.

 

As he made his way down the winding tunnels of the Hassaikai base, Ed was filled with a foreboding sense of deja vu. An underground base, secret experiments, he had fought it all before. These people weren’t particularly threatening compared to what he faced in the past. The only thing that was different was… 

 

He looked to his side and saw nobody standing there.

 

Even at his lowest, there had always been somebody. He had trudged through the fake portal inside Gluttony with Ling and Envy with him. He crossed half the continent with Heinkel and Darius. And Al… Al had always been there. For maybe the first time in his life, however, Ed was about to get into a fight he wasn’t sure he could win, truly by himself.

 

He shook his head, clearing the depressing thoughts from his mind as he refocused himself on his goal. Bashing Overhaul’s brains in would feel just as cathartic with or without a partner, right?

 

…Right.

 

But the fantasies would have to wait. Something was coming, and he didn’t need Xingese soul magic or whatever to notice it. He could feel the vibrations through the concrete.

 

Half a second later, the wall beside him burst into pieces and he barely dodged the arm swinging out at him. Swiping his fingers along the ground, Ed created a staff from the concrete and slammed it against the orange-haired man, easily twice his height, only for it to crack in two.

 

“...So you’re the guy that’s making everyone here go crazy,” the man muttered, “You’re smaller than I expected. I heard there was a whole flock of heroes busting down the door.”

 

“Just me,” spat Ed, launching a pillar of concrete out of the ground, only for it to shatter against a translucent yellow light.

 

“Do you really have to rush in like a fool every time, Rappa?” tsked another man dressed in a black robe with blond hair. He was far shorter than his compatriot but stood with far more composure, keeping his hands behind his back. “I’m afraid your little outburst will have to come to an end here, Mr. Elrich. Rappa and I are the ultimate pair, him the spear and me the shield. And unfortunately, it seems you are–”

WHAM!

 

His taunt was cut-off mid-sentence as Ed caused the entire hallway to collapse upon him, pushing the ceilings down, floor up, and walls inward, but when he retracted them, the yellow barrier was still there and the two men were unharmed.

 

“Rude,” said the man in black, “As I was saying–”

 

WHAM!

 

WHAM!

 

WHAM!

 

WHAM!

 

Again, he brought the ceiling down on them, smashing it over and over and over again and pummeling them into the ground. When the dust settled, the two men were no longer standing in front of him, and in their place was a pit in the ground, easily five meters deep. The shorter man in black had lost his composure and began screaming obscenities while the larger one futile tried to climb out. Ed simply tuned them out, dropping a block of concrete on them to keep the two occupied while he proceeded further down the tunnel.

 

“Where is she?” asked a voice that echoed along the walls.

 

“With–” Ed felt himself begin to answer. Before he could finish his word, he fell to the ground and covered himself with a concrete shell. “Ingenium… Shit.”

 

With a concrete muzzle now sealing his lips, he continued his way toward Overhaul, this time on much higher alert.

 

“I told him you were trouble,” Nemoto continued, “From the moment we heard about you, I told him to put a bullet in your brain. What in God’s name is this, Ed? He called off our subordinate’s hit on you, he protected your friends, he gave you a place to pursue your research, and this is how you pay him back? If you had a concern, this isn’t exactly an appropriate way to raise them, just attacking your benefactor entirely unprompted.”

 

“Fuck. You,” said Ed, pulling down his muzzle for just long enough to spew the insult with as much vitriol as he could muster. Before Nemoto could continue, he shoved a hunk of concrete in each year, ending the mobster’s pathetic attempt at manipulation. Ed would not be guilted into stopping, no more than you could guilt a bull into not charging or an earthquake into not destroying a town. The key thing Nemoto got wrong was assuming whatever righteous fury motivated his actions had to be self-righteousness. That probably came naturally to a man who lived in a world of heroes and villains, of good men and bad men, but Ed was no hero. He was not even a man. He was trained to be an attack dog, and a dog didn’t question whether his master was right to hunt the fox, he tore it to shreds. 

 

And the fox was getting closer. Ed could sense his aura. Overhaul was waiting for him at the end of this hallway. He walked for another minute or two, before finally approaching a large open room, with the man himself standing at the opposite end, flanked by one on his right and two on his left.

 

“No more thugs to throw at me?” spat Ed, pulling off his muzzle and earplugs. 

 

“No point, I’d wager,” shrugged Overhaul, cracking his neck, “What the hell did that girl say to you, Ed? You realize she–”

 

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Ed interrupted, charging at the mob boss.

 

Overhaul sighed, and with a wave of his hand, sent waves of spikes at him, which Ed dispelled by brushing his hand against the ground. With a reformed staff in hand, he prepared to strike at the mob boss, only to seemingly slip on nothing and fall to the ground. Pulling himself to his feet, he just barely dodged a strand of hair from the man in the white cloak standing to Overhaul’s right.

 

"Looks like the boy can’t handle his liquor, ey, boss?” snickered one of the men standing to his right, with long hair and a bottle in hand.

 

“Shame, I expected more from you,” said Overhaul, “Kurono, take care of him.”

 

The man in the white cloak nodded, shooting out his hair again, only for the strand to be cut by Ed walling off half of the entire room. As his senses returned to him, Ed regained his footing and considered his next action, and quickly, an idea began to form. Although Overhaul’s power and Alchemy might be similar, Ed did have one crucial advantage; he didn’t need to see his enemies to know exactly where they were. Closing his eyes and trying to see the Dragon’s Pulse, a handful of auras made themselves visible to him. With a simple thought, he undid the hydration that turns water and cement into concrete specifically underneath his feet, and pulled all four under, quickly following it up with a bash to the back of each of their heads' skulls that knocked them out before spitting them back out.

 

BANG!

 

The wall he had formed crumbled moments later, and a furious Overhaul stepped through the breech. Damn it. Guess he was too slow. 

 

“You insolent little shit!” Overhaul spat, “Tell me what you did with the girl and I’ll kill you right here instead of dragging out your death for weeks!”

 

“What’s the matter?” said Ed, his rage subsiding just enough to let out a taunt, “Nobody left to do your dirty work anymore? I–”

 

He froze mid sentence as Overhaul rushed him down. The man was faster than he looked, and closed the distance between the two faster than he could have possibly expected. But Ed was a trained soldier, and he fought worse than the likes of him. Ed whacked the Yakuza thug’s outstretched hand away with his staff and kneed him in the gut, sending him tumbling to the ground. Only a second later, the ground beneath him rumbled, and he jumped to the side to dodge the spike that shot up. More and more erupted, forcing him to weave through the onslaught, until he managed to catch his footing for half a second, giving him enough time to place both hands on the ground and blast the spikes away, and a moment later, he reformed them into a dragon-like form which turned back at his opponent.

 

BANG!

 

It turned to dust moments later. Overhaul was clutching his right arm and breathing heavily, the downside of being easily more powerful than everyone in his world and thus not having to push himself physically making itself visible. But Ed wasn’t exactly in perfect shape himself. He had gone practically two months by now without getting into a real drawn-out fight, and now he had just rampaged through the entire Hassaikai lair. Using barely any effort a dozen times adds up, after all. 

 

At the end of the day, though, Ed was trained for combat, and Overhaul wasn’t. He forced himself to charge the man with a staff in hand. The mobster sidestepped the first swing, ducked under the second, and raised a wall to block the third, but Ed was prepared to counter it. He sent the power of his alchemy through the staff, transmuting portions of the wall to it as they collided. Instead of the blow being blocked, Overhaul essentially turned his staff into a hammer seconds before it stuck him in the side, sending him tumbling back. As he hit the ground, he fired off a massive spike from the ground that cut Ed in the shoulder before he could disintegrate it.

 

Holding his injured side and staring at him with almost as much vitriol Ed returned his gaze with, Overhaul rose to his feet. “After I kill you, I’ll find the girl,” he spat, “I’m going to pull her apart atom by atom and put her together. Maybe I’ll bring you back from the dead just to make you watch what fucking heroics gets you in this world.”

 

“This isn’t heroics, Overhaul,” said Ed, “I’ve done my fair share of it before, and this isn’t that. Heroes try to help people out of… goodness, or something. This is cleaning up. Doing the laundry. Taking out the trash. I’m here because I fucked up my getting into bed with you, and now I’m gonna set this right.”

 

“You’re doing all this shit because of a guilty conscience,” said Overhaul, “Trying to ruin everything I’ve built, all the work I’ve put into salvaging this clusterfuck of a society and saving people from themselves all because of your guilty conscience? You’re the only person I’ve ever met who came to the same conclusion as me about Quirks. That they’ve corrupted the natural order of things. That they’re nothing but suffering. And you’re willing to condemn the world to that just to ease your guilt? I think that might be the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

 

“I know your type, Overhaul,” said Ed, “Guys who think the ends justify the means. I’ve faced down more ambitious and more egotistical people than you. You’re the type of guy who fervently believes that it takes breaking a few eggs to make an omelet. But it’s always gotta be someone else who suffers to bring about paradise, doesn’t it? Never yourself. Well guess what, Chisaki, sometimes, sometimes the eggs have their way.”

 

“...And you’d prefer nothing gets done?” spat Overhaul, “Let society continue in the malaise of the status quo for another generation? You don’t exactly get to choose which limb gets cut off to save the body from an infection, it’s the diseased one that has to go. If I could inflict some arbitrary amount of pain to get what I wanted then I wouldn’t hesitate to do it to myself but the world doesn’t work that way. If suffering alone caused a result, you’d have to walk through an ocean of blood just to get to the grocery store. It has to be her who suffers to bring about the perfect society.”

 

“Whatever perfect society you’re trying to make…” said Ed, “If it can only come about through torturing a little girl, then I want nothing to do with it.”

 

“Don’t worry, Edward,” said Overhaul, placing a hand on the ground and causing the whole room to shake. Ed stepped backward, preparing to dodge a seemingly imminent attack. 

 

But it never came. The roof split open, and a large mass fell from it. It wasn’t a rock or dirt or anything that ought to be underground, but rather…

 

A person. One Ed vaguely recognized. He was quite large and wore a black tank top and a black and red bird mask. It was the man who was guarding the doorway, he realized. But what was he doing here? He looked to be knocked out, and clearly, the fall from the roof didn’t help. Why the hell had Overhaul brought him down here?

 

Overhaul placed a hand on his shoulder before a flash of white light blinded him.

 

…Dear God.

Notes:

I can't promise I'll return to my usual schedule or any sort of schedule for this fic, but I've cut down on my commitments for this semester, generally, so hopefully there'll be less to do.

Notes:

Talk to me on Introverts Anonymous,