Drabble: The Tangible
[drabble challenge for Shukiai]
He remembers, once, telling Fullmetal that he preferred to keep his memories safely within his own head, rather than leave them openly on display, as Hughes does. In his house, there are only four photographs: parents, family at his sister's wedding, graduation, and the soldiers of his unit.
Fullmetal only nodded at that, and he remembers thinking that, yes, he would understand. Hughes did not, and sometimes Roy believes that the man's photo mania was, in some peculiar fashion, compensation for his own lack.
But Edward and Alphonse Elric burned their childhood home down without second thought, walked away without thinking -- and now that the Fullmetal Alchemist is truly famous, Roy thinks wryly, there are a thousand collectors across the country who mourn the loss of childhood artifacts, more than Edward Elric himself does.
There are times, Roy thinks, when the problem is not that Fullmetal doesn't understand him -- it's that Fullmetal understands him too well. When he finishes growing into his full potential, when he learns to temper his emotions and move entirely with the grace his body promises, he will be truly formidable.
"Sir," Hawkeye says in the doorway, and she has paperwork in the crook of one arm. "Your mail."
"Ah." He reaches out and takes what she gives him. "Thank you, Lieutenant."
She salutes once before she goes. He waits until the door closes behind her before he starts shuffling through the paper; most of it is simply from within the department itself; his evaluation is coming up soon, and there is the reminder of that in a long crisp white envelope with the Fuhrer's seal.
Under that is a small, brightly-colored square; it is a photograph of the mountains, tall and cool and graceful against the jewel-blue sky. Everything looks beautifully pristine, like a page lifted from some landscape artist's collection. He turns it over and sees it's a postcard; the handwriting scrawled there is quite familiar to him.
"Yo," it says. "The people here are crazy. Wish you were here, so I didn't have to be."
That is all, and there is no signature. Roy smiles. Fullmetal and his brother have taken a year-long sabbatical to travel, to let Alphonse become accustomed to his regained body -- and it definitely seems fame has followed them both. He remembers the week after Alphonse was restored, and the bemused humor Fullmetal gave to the entire situation.
"I don't really want to be famous," he'd said, peeling apples for his brother. "It seems like a pain in the ass."
"It is," Roy had replied. "You learn to get used to it."
Now, he's tempted to write back, some line about switching places -- so let him travel the countryside, and Fullmetal work the ten-hour desk job -- then laughs the idea off. It would be his luck for Fullmetal to actually take him up on that, and part of him cringes to consider Fullmetal with that much authoritative power.
He was fond of the boy, and still likes the young man the boy has become. But he knows better than to make offers like that.
With a shrug, he tucks the postcard away, in a safe place where he'll forget about it, so that he can find it months later.
Roy does not like to keep his memories out on display.
He does, however, like to occasionally be reminded of those important things he's left behind.
--end--