chapter 6

You open the door to your hotel suite again, dripping wet. The marble floor chills your feet and sends shivers up your spine. Behind you, Ed was carrying Al, both wet from the rain as well. Stone quiet, the both of you turn into your rooms and shut the doors behind.

You gather a towel and changing clothes, a t-shirt and jeans that reach right past your knees. Stepping into your bathroom and locking the door, you turn the shower up to the warmest you could bear and step in. You wince in pain as the water washes through the two wounds on your arm, one from the man's sword, and the other self inflicted. The water washing off of your arm is a bright red, and the cuts burn for a while, but you choose to ignore the uncomfortable sensation.

In the silence broken only by the splashing water, you think about what you had said back then. You couldn't even remember her face and how else you knew her. Just what she said and how she helped you.

You cleanse through your hair and apply a bit of conditioner, letting it sit for a while before rinsing it out.

It was all your fault Al was injured. The man was planning on coming after you, but hurt Al in the process. You clench your fist, trying to blink away tears of frustration and guilt, but fail. Who was that man, and why was he after you? Why did he hate you so much that he would put Al in that condition? If he thought Al was you, then the man wouldn't have hesitated to do the same to you. Who else was after you?

After a while, you step out, steam pouring out of the shower stall. You wrap a towel around your body and add another one to dry your hair with. Drying off, you put on your new clothes and wipe down your hair so it wouldn't get your dry clothes wet.

Stepping into your room, you brace yourself and look towards your bed. The ground was stained with blood, the walls, sheets, and curtains too. How are you going to deal with this much blood without seeming suspicious?

Outside, all you had to do was send the blood's molecules into the air, but here, in such a confined space and so much blood, you couldn't do that without toxifying the air with too many pathogens. After a minute of thinking, you decide to resort to something not as awesome and mysterious. You walk into your steamy bathroom and grab the mouth rinsing cups that the hotel provided and bring them out. You shake your right arm, flinching at the pain, but a little blood oozes out and you collect it into your palm.

Clapping your hands and placing them on the ground, you examine each particle in the blood. After that, you decompose each molecule and recompose them into the cups, quickly filling the glass cups with a reddish brownish liquid that may or may not have been blood. You dump them down the sink and repeat the process, getting rid of more blood each time, but also draining yourself of blood.

By the time you finished, you very dizzy. There were black spots covering your vision, and your eyes wanted to close from fatigue. You lean against the wall next to the room entrance door, trying not to topple over. Your body racks with coughs, which makes you even more worried, though you also feel a bit satisfied. This would be your punishment for causing so much trouble for Al and Ed.

You examine the huge cut on the other side of your right arm where the man had cut you. The gash was deep, and you saw some odd-colored, greenish liquid. , you think, disgusted a bit but amazed by the body's natural abilities. Pulling out the small packet of pills and bandages the doctor gave you, you set down the pills and attempt to wrap some bandages around your arm.

You cough even more, pain shooting through your chest, stars flying across your vision. You couldn't breathe well, like the air was made of syrup. The pressure of the coughing gives you a pulsing headache, and you close your eyes, finally falling forwards onto the ground and smack your head lightly against the floor, hitting the door in the process. It wasn't a big hit, since you broke your fall with your elbows, but it was enough in your condition to send your half-conscious state into darkness.

*****

[November 18, 1917]

You wake up on your bed, sheets warming up your shivering body. You cough some more, and a splitting headache takes over your mind. Your right arm was sore to the touch, and when you raise your right arm to examine it, you realize you were wearing a long-sleeved red coat over your t-shirt and jeans. You smile giddily through your pain, recognising the coat and glad that Ed wasn't so mad at you that he refused to care for you.

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you pull up your sleeve to find your entire right forearm bandaged neatly, and suddenly you felt guilty. You only got a small cut on your arm, and there you went, passing out, while Al had a broken bone, stab in his leg, scraped up face, and probably even more. It was all your fault.

You stand up unsteadily, using the wall as support. Checking the time on the nightstand, you see that it was 1:51 pm. Walking past your bathroom, you silently open the door, grateful that it didn't creak, and step out of your room. It was eerily quiet, and you could only hear your footsteps as you slowly make it to the kitchen to go through the fridge. You found a box of yogurt and a spoon. You (decide/decide not) to eat it. Rummaging more through the fridge, you found the box of (F/F) you bought earlier... When? How long were you out? What date was it?

You pull out your box of (F/F) and set it on the counter, looking around for dishes. After setting (some/it/whatever can describe it) on the dish, you microwave it (if it's supposed to be).

You gobble down the food. It was your favorite food, after all. After you finish, you set the dish into the sink and turn the faucet on, using the hotel-provided sponge to clean it. The door behind you opens, and you turn around quickly, startled.

You catch Ed's eye, and you slowly relax. His gaze travels up and down you and he blushes slightly when his gaze catches on his coat. You relax and slowly smile. "Hey."

Ed leans against the door, yawning. "I see you're finally awake."

"Yeah."

"That's good, since I don't have to take care of two unconscious people anymore," Ed grins, teasing you, "and now you can help me take care of Al."

You attempt a smile, rolling your eyes. "Sure. Can I go see him now?"

"Eh. He's not awake, but okay."

You walk out of the kitchen and follow Ed into Al's room, and see Al lying motionless on his bed. You flinch.

You walk up next to the bed and examine his injuries. Same bandaged leg, same cast on his arm, same, scraped up face. You press your lips into a thin line. "I'm sorry."

Ed doesn't say anything.

"I'm sorry, this is all my fault. Th-that man was only after me. Al shouldn't have been hurt, but here I am, passing out from a simple cut I made on myself when Al's fighting for his life because someone thought-"

"Stop. Stop it, (Y/N)! There's something more to this that you don't understand. At least, until you get your memories back. I-It's not just you who contributed to Al being like this, so please, stop."

Your heart sinks. So he does blame you.

"You didn't pass out from that cut you made on yourself." Ed continues in a softer tone. "You put too much strain on your body, drawing so much blood to use alchemy. Not only that, but that old hag's sword had poison on it. I found it in your cut."You hold up your right arm. So that was what the greenish liquid was. Poison.

"Oh, and about alchemy."

You look curiously up at Ed.

"Why don't I give you a few lessons? It looks like you could use some help."

You look down, taking in a deep breath, before looking up, hoping your spirit looks different than how you felt, "Okay."

Ed gestures his head towards the door and you follow him out of the gloomy room with the gloomy atmosphere.

********

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~Sky-chan

Word count: 1487 words