The reporter spoke up next, his voice faltering. “But he’s breaking out in a cold sweat. He’s not tired, is he?!”
“It’s nothing, you’re imagining it! My brother’s always full of energy and smiles, after all!” Alphonse said, subtly sliding himself between the reporter and Edward to hide his frozen brother behind his back. He glanced at Edward over his shoulder. “Ed, you look too serious!”
“Uh.”
“Smile! Smile, Ed!”
“Ugh!”
Heaving in a massive breath, Edward gathered his resolve and finally managed to force the corners of his mouth to twitch upward.
“There’s absolutely no need to offer anything in thanks. Please leave everything to me, your city’s very own dependable State Alchemist Edward Elric!” Twirling once so his coat flared out around him, Edward gave the crowd his most exaggerated wink yet. Even if his eyes were a bit empty, neither the journalist nor the gathered masses noticed. They all gazed at Edward with absolute trust and adoration.
“State Alchemist Edward Elric. What a truly wonderful person!” the journalist murmured breathlessly, and as though mirroring his awe, the people surrounding them also spoke his name.
“Edward Elric!”
“What an amazing state alchemist. He uses alchemy for the people!” The voices extolling Edward swelled in number as more and more people started to participate.
Edward overcame his earlier impulse to lash out and waved his hand in response to the cheers. Watching him, Alphonse imagined all the terrible scenarios no doubt lying in wait in their future and felt a headache coming on.
It was as though Alphonse had predicted the future, because the hurdle they’d just overcome was only the start.
“’Scuse me, Mr. Shorty, please fix my toy!”
“Oh what a cute little state alchemist! Please fix the roof on my house.”
“I wanted to ask if you could fix some stuff for my kid’s playground, but … Hey, alchemist, where’d you go? Oh! You were so short I couldn’t see you.”
“Astounding, you’re so popular! I’m so incredibly honored to do a report on such an amazing person!” The journalist boxed Edward in from behind, trembling with wonder and joy as his pen sped across the page. Meanwhile, crowds of people lined up in front of Edward with ever-rising expectations, all while unwittingly repeating the forbidden word. Edward had no escape.
Every time he heard the taboo word, Edward’s eyes twitched along with his fingers, moments away from attacking. Alphonse desperately tried to cover for him.
“What? My brother looks mad? No, sir, you must have imagined it!”
“He seems sorta unfriendly? That’s not possible! He’s just focused on transmuting!”
“Ah, you’re concerned whether he’ll fix that? Please don’t worry, he’s got it—aah! Not another artistic rendition!”
They needed Scar to notice them and to improve Edward’s reputation. Alphonse was now painfully aware that achieving both of their goals was no easy task. All he could do was continue running around putting out fires.
“i’m beat.”
That night, Alphonse flopped face-first onto a table in the dining hall back at their hotel. Edward was sleeping in their room, and Winry was staying over at Gracia’s.
There were only two other guests in the dining hall, perhaps because it was after dinner hours. Alphonse watched the pair chat amicably while enjoying their evening meal, then let out a long sigh.
His armored body couldn’t feel physical fatigue, but he felt drained mentally. The entire day had been filled with nothing but stress. He’d had to pacify Edward, whose ire was triggered every time the word little was uttered. Whenever the journalist or crowd seemed like they might grow suspicious, he’d had to cover for Ed. And more than once, he’d had to personally restore items transformed into unrecognizable oddities by Edward’s whimsical transmutations.
Still, the effort had been worth it.
Though Edward had come close to snapping, he had refrained from rampaging and had somehow managed to maintain his mild-mannered, charming persona.
Sitting up from the table, Alphonse reflected back on the journalist’s behavior. After jotting down every one of Edward’s words and actions into his notebook, the journalist had been so moved that when they finally parted ways, he’d actually shed tears.
“I’m the happiest man in the world to have gotten the opportunity to report on such a miracle worker! I promise to write an amazing article. I’ll send you a draft of the piece immediately, maybe even as soon as tomorrow!” he gushed.
They stood there on the street as the sun set, the journalist gripping Edward’s hand firmly before the man veritably skipped back to the newspaper headquarters. Alphonse watched him go, and felt all-encompassing relief.
Edward, on the other hand, had spent all day acting out of character, which had apparently exhausted him. Upon returning to the hotel, he ate dinner, then promptly collapsed into bed.
It had been a tough day, but now that they’d survived it, all they needed to do was wait for the article to be published. After that, everyone across the nation would know about Edward’s good deeds. From here on out, the two of them were sure to be welcomed wherever they went, even if they visited every corner of the country. Just imagining that was enough to make Alphonse’s exhaustion dissipate.
All they needed to do now was continue helping people while they waited for Scar to show up. There was still a chance Edward would snap, but Alphonse felt more confident in his ability to cover for him now that there was no journalist watching and recording their every move.
“I’m so glad we didn’t parade around town in a pushcart.” Alphonse suppressed a mental grin as he felt another wave of happiness, and opened the magazine he’d taken from their room, which he’d once again left to let his brother sleep in peace.
Perhaps what made him happiest was remembering how incredibly cool his brother had looked, smiling kindly while conducting swift transmutations, all while surrounded by a crowd of people who looked on with hope and awe.
“It would be so great if he could just keep being an amazing brother like this. Oh! I should let Granny Pinako know that we’ll be in the paper! She’ll be so surprised.” Even though no one else was around, Alphonse chuckled to himself, until someone interrupted him.
“Mr. Alphonse!”
Alphonse jolted and almost ripped the magazine page he had been in the process of flipping at the sudden shout that echoed through the dining hall. Turning around, he saw the journalist, who should have already been back at the newspaper office, standing at the entrance to the dining hall.
“Something terrible’s happened!”
The journalist was completely drenched in sweat, as though he’d sprinted the whole way to the hotel. Alphonse began to stand, sensing that whatever matter was at hand, it was serious.
“What happened?!” Alphonse asked while pouring water from the pitcher on the table into a glass to hand to the journalist.
The journalist gulped down the entire glass of water, then began to speak while leaning against the table to catch his breath. “Some info came in, and I wanted to let you know as soon as possible! I’d just finished writing the draft of the article and was leaving the office when we got a tip. Are you aware that an art museum was robbed yesterday?”
“Oh, well, yes?” Alphonse nodded, unsure why this information was relevant. He’d heard on the morning radio news broadcast that a valuable vase had been stolen from an art museum located in Central sometime late the night before. “If I’m remembering correctly, the stolen object was made by some renowned artist and is worth eighty million cens. Apparently the thieves haven’t been caught yet.”
“That’s correct. Now, this is confidential information that hasn’t been made public yet, but it appears that the thieves damaged the vase while stealing it.”
“It was broken?”
Alphonse came to a sudden realization.
Stolen works of art were often sold on the black market, but if they were damaged in the slightest, they would fetch an entirely different price. The thieves would no doubt be desperate to fix the stolen work of art, and alchemy would be their best bet.
“So you think the culprits would try to get my brother to fix it?!” Alphonse surmised.
“Exactly! According to our source, there’ll be a black-market auction in a town nearby tonight. We believe that Mr. Edward has either already repaired it or that they’ll be coming by soon to ask him to so they can enter it in the auction.”
“Oh no!”
Alphonse had no interest in being made an accomplice to a crime. He quickly sorted through his memories of the past day. According to what he had heard on the news, the vase was made of white porcelain, had indigo patterns, and was quite large. He couldn’t remember seeing anything that fit that description.
“My brother hasn’t fixed it yet. That means the culprits might come here!” Alphonse said, leaping to his feet and causing his chair to screech against the floor. He dashed out of the dining hall.