ビジネスマンとメイド

BY : deductively
Category: -Misc Anime > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 64
Disclaimer: This is a Fullmetal Alchemist AU fanfiction. It is not intended for minors AT ALL (as are most things on this website), so proceed with caution. And of course, all rights reserved. I worked very hard on this. Thank you. <3

Rain shouldn't fall from a sky like that.

Of all the things to think about while I'm lying in a pile of odorous garbage bags, clutching a stab wound and glancing to watch my blood be washed down the storm drain with the never-ending stream of rainwater, that's the first that sneaks into my head.  The rain stings in my eyes, and I have to squint to look at the off-colored atmosphere, but even barely conscious I know that it isn't natural.  Or perhaps it is, just a phenomenon that I can't comprehend as a mere dying human.  Either way, it's a nice thing to think about before my seemingly inevitable demise; a sky the color of pomegranate skin.  I can taste the sweet fruit on my tongue, only for it to be tainted with blood.

Blood...blood should be raining down now...

Perhaps, in a sense, blood is raining, just not from the clouds.  It pours from my body, thinned and thereby spurned on by the falling rain.  I've lost track of how many seconds it had been since I'd started bleeding.  Maybe because I didn't start counting until after the knife pierced my abdomen.  One thing is for sure: this river of life is what's causing my mild delirium, and I don't mind it in the slightest.

I remember how my mom used to cut up pomegranate for me when my eyes manage to focus on the sky again.  It's cruel in a way, that I'd be meeting her so soon after her death.  Yet it was enough to make me smile and crave the seeds of the sky.  Raindrops...could they be the pomegranate seeds of clouds?

These are my dying thoughts.  How amusing.

Before I can berate myself for having such pathetic thoughts, I become dimly aware of a wet tap-tap-tapping coming towards me.  Running footsteps.  Something clattering to the ground; the sound makes me squirm.  The trash bags beneath my legs shift slightly, and I groan in protest, wanting my grave to remain untainted.

"Hey," a voice says, ignoring my wordless plea.  "Hey, can you hear me?"

I nod, because that's the only way I know to respond.  A sigh follows, and I feel myself being lifted into warmth.  I think I understand then: I'm finally dying.  This is my light, the one who will guide me into the afterlife.  Bearing this in mind, I let them hoist me into their arms, my head resting against their shoulder.  Yes, this comfort must be what it feels like.  I've never felt anything like it, so it must be my first and last experience with it.  I take in as much of it as I can and find myself murmuring something along the lines of "You smell...like a fireplace..." before letting my exhaustion consume me.

As it would turn out, I'm sorely mistaken.  This isn't my death.  Obviously, that will come eventually, as it does for every human, but not for me.

This is the beginning of my new life under the management and watchful eyes of Maes Hughes.



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