InsaneJournal

“Fletcher, you can’t just leave like this!” A tall, willowy youth begged his younger brother. They stood in front of a rustic schoolhouse, and inside, there was a gaggle of students ranging in age from 15 to 3.

The younger grinned sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Brother. I promised Elisa I’d take her to Eastern.” He glanced over at his longtime friend, a faint pink tinge on his cheeks. She saw it, and hers followed suit, with more intensity.

“Look at them, they’re going insane because it’s the last day before summer break. It’s terrifying!” Russel, the elder, pointed to the students running amok in the room, and outside the small schoolhouse as well.

“Brother, I know you can handle it on your own for just one day,” Fletcher smiled. “I’ll be back Monday.” Fletcher turned to leave, his and Elisa’s hands finding each other as they filed out. Russel saw that, and understood. But he wasn’t going to let him leave that easily.

“Traitor! You’ve abandoned your brother to the hounds!” he called after his younger brother. But he didn’t resent him for it. He wanted his brother to have as close as possible to a normal childhood, despite their mutual circumstances.

He turned to face the class. Sure, they were squirrelly bastards, but he took this responsibility seriously, and he liked to think he was good at this whole teaching thing. If the fading dirty looks and even kind words from these kids’ parents were any indication, he genuinely was. But everyone had limits.

He’d just had enough at this point. His patience had worn out. “WOULD EVERYONE SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP?!” he screamed. Suddenly, he had the whole room’s attention. They looked stunned. But they complied. Russel sighed, and pushed his hair out of his face. “You’re going to learn something on the last day of class if I have to knock it into your skulls myself. Besides, if you want any private alchemy tutoring over the summer, you had best be on good behavior.”

Debts must be repaid. This cannot be denied. This is an obligation not only to the forces of alchemy, but to society as a whole. Russel had a very large one to repay to the people of Xenotime, shouldering enough for the three Tringham men. For the young lives Nash had taken, and for those Russel and Fletcher had taken during their desperate search for him. It had been several years since then, and slowly, the quiet streets of Xenotime began to fill with the peal of crying babies, and then the laughter of children. Every death of the previous, strong, hardy mining generation was a huge blow. Nearly the whole town turned out for each of them. Russel made it a point of putting in an appearance at each and every one of them.

Sure, he was still glared at. Hell, he couldn’t even look anyone in town in the eye for a long time after Ed had done them the favor of removing his mask. It was fate, he had decided, when they had found that passage in their father’s journal and climbed on the train back to Central. Because they hadn’t found it a day too soon, or too late. While he waited in the church for Ed to emerge from the tunnel under the altar, he made a decision. That he wasn’t going to let anything hold him back. Not his guilt, not his debts, and not the lingering shadow of memories of happier days he desperately clung to. He’d led his beloved brother to the edge of imminent death more than once, and he wasn’t going to allow it to happen again. He was going to use his knowledge and experience for something positive. He was going to help that town pick up the pieces.

And so, when they returned after the Fuhrer’s assassination, he set to work. It wasn’t enough that he wanted this town to stand on its own again. He wanted it to grow on the same values their father had treasured above all else. The building he erected with a combination of good old-fashioned hard work and alchemy, was simple. It was an effort began only by the brothers, with no explanation to the townspeople. Of course, none was asked. Mr. Belshio, an old friend of their late father’s, was the only one that truly understood what they were doing. And since he understood so intimately, he left the brothers to their task.

One day, when the main structure was complete, an old friend came to visit. It was Elisa, the innkeeper’s daughter. She approached Russel timidly, but her curiosity spurred her on. “Russel, what are you doing? Daddy says you’re up to no good again.”

She was the only one to really come around Mr. Belshio and the boys willingly. Obviously old grudges died hard. He snorted before he responded. “I’m building a school,” he said.

“A school?”

“Yeah. The closest thing this town has to a teacher is Old Lady Barnes, and I don’t think she can hear right anymore. And we’ll need more room than someone’s living room before too long,” Russel replied. Fletcher shot him a look of disapproval for how he referred to Mrs. Barnes, the old widow.

“But there’s only five other kids. Including Fletcher,” she pointed out.

“Right now, there is. But there’s at least six women in town that are pregnant, and with the way things are going, there’ll be a lot more. This town is coming back to life.” He really couldn’t keep the fond grin off his face. Somehow, he’d grown rather fond of this town, despite the fact most of the people here hated him, and with good reason. It was the lingering connection to his father’s roots that pressed him forward. Walking the same streets and through the same doorways did much to calm his restless nature.

When it came time for the spring planting, summer work, and fall harvesting Russel was exceptionally busy. Between continued work on the schoolhouse, and all of the agricultural work of training the townspeople in a new trade, and picking up the slack of the inexperienced, Russel got little sleep. Seeing him working so hard for this town to which he owed so much changed a lot of the townspeople’s minds. People were at least willing to spare a bit of kind attention to the brothers, and were more willing to consider them credible.
In the end, the schoolhouse was done and the harvest was complete. Outside of the primary growing season, there was a lot of work dedicated to moving the many rock piles out of the arable land. It returned to the mines from which it came, which were then alchemically sealed.

On the opening day of classes, every child of appropriate age in town showed up. All five of them. “Who’s our teacher?” one of them asked, finding only Russel standing at the front of the room.

“I am,” Russel replied smugly. He’d even ironed his typical pants and shirt for the occasion.

But all of that was several years ago. The Tringham School, as it came to be called was open and thriving. Aside from the occasional impatient and angry outbursts from the teacher, anyway. Today was the final day of the fifth year of its operation. And as final days go, it went well. He gave them one final test, and also gave them a few books to read over the summer so that their brains wouldn’t completely shut off. Enforcement thereof was easy too. It helped when your teacher was also consulting on your parents’ farm.

But there was one exceptionally bright spot among the potential Russel had begun to nurture. Her name was Bennie, which was short for something she refused to say. She was 14, and brilliant. Most days out of the week, Russel stayed with her after classes, working with her on more advanced material than the others, save Fletcher, were prepared for. He expected much from her, and she did not disappoint. She was also the first he’d broached the subject of alchemy with beyond a theoretical sense. He went through some of the beginning concepts with her, and when the time came for her first solo transmutation, she did not disappoint. For the first time since Fletcher was young and meeting his childhood milestones, Russel swelled with pride. “You did it,” he said.

She chewed her lower lip. “Is it really okay? I’m not sure if the shape’s right.” She looked over the piece of wood. It had begun as an old railcart tie, but now it resembled the image in the picture he’d given her: of the legendary Fullmetal Alchemist, in wooden statue form. It was an action pose, he was midway down to the ground in the course of battle.

“Are you kidding? Your detail is impeccable.” Russel paced a lap around it. “The things you extrapolated from the two-dimensional image to a three-dimensional medium are brilliant.” He kept any comments about its scale relative to the real deal to himself.

She smiled. “You really mean it?”

“I haven’t been this impressed with a first-time transmutation since my brother started learning. And that’s no exaggeration,” he leaned back against his desk. The look on his face changed to something a bit more serious, but no less pleased. “You could probably make it into some of the best schools in Central.”

She turned red at his praise. “I don’t think my family could afford it…” she said humbly.

“Let me worry about that,” he told her, a bit of a wicked smirk on his face. One that was usually reserved for something exceptionally devious.

He spent that evening on the phone, and writing letters. He got hung up on several times, mostly because no one outside of the Eastern district had heard of his school, let alone within it. Frustrated, he let the matter be for now, after sending letters to a few key individuals. Former Colonel Roy Mustang, Assembly members Kain Fuery and Scieszka, all introducing himself, and asking them to do him a favor on his behalf, as a mutual friend of a certain tiny alchemist.

He didn’t hear anything back for a month. He despaired for her sake, because it seemed clear that his letters had been ignored. It was a crime for a mind like hers to be unable to thrive, he thought.

But that was about to change. As he was opening the boxes to distribute the books he had assigned for the summer, there was a letter on top. His brow furrowed in confusion, and he opened it:

Dear Mr. Tringham,

I hope this letter finds you, your brother, and your students well. I have received a letter from a mutual acquaintance of ours, Roy Mustang. He tells me you have an exceptional student in your care, and that she may have what it takes to be admitted to this school in the fall. I have enclosed an entrance exam for our academy, and I ask that you proctor it per the instructions with the utmost care. I have read some of your research, Mr. Tringham, as well as that of your father’s.I have the utmost faith in your assessment. If she is as you have attested, then she should have no trouble with our exam.

In the happy event that she passes, we have means to admit her on a scholarship basis. If her exemplary work continues, and she rises to meet the unique challenges of our school, then she will not have to worry about paying for her tuition for the duration of her studies. I consider it my duty to foster learning no matter where the student may come from or whether their parents are decorated generals or dutiful farmers. Especially since the change in government, it is the duty of education to expand the skills of the people, so that the mistakes of the past may not be repeated.

On a further note, Roy tells me that you and your brother are quite exceptional in your own rights, and I would like to extend my hand to the both of you as well. Your brother enjoys the same offer as I have extended to Miss Bennie. I would also like to offer you a position here at this school as a teacher’s assistant, or even aid in further education for yourself. Though I expect your place is meant to be right where you are. Both professionally and personally speaking, your father was a colleague and close friend of mine before he disappeared. I know he would be proud to see you two today. He always spoke proudly of his sons. Whatever errors the previous government may have made in ethical judgments, they certainly had a fine eye for talent, not the least of which was Edward Elric.

If you should ever need resources for your school, do not hesitate to call or write. I hope that this is the beginning of a fruitful relationship for the both of us and for our students, and that you may one day do me the honor of a visit.
Sincerely,
Ingrid Grumman
Headmistress, Elric Academy

P.S.: Should you ever consider taking the State Alchemy exam, Roy would be glad to be your sponsor and tutor. But you didn’t hear this from me.

Russel had lost himself in the letter, the warm words in reference to his father, himself, his brother, and the work he was doing washing over him. Truth be told, he nearly cried. But it was only due to his own stubbornness that he didn’t. He looked back to the room of faces, and smiled widely. They were all curious as to what had distracted their usually exceptionally focused teacher. “More on that later,” he said, setting the letter aside. He flashed a smirk to Bennie, who looked confused. “Come get your books. Line up, because I’ve handpicked these for each of you.”

A few minutes later, Bennie was the last one in line. Instead of handing her a book, he handed her the exam from the envelope. “This is for…” her face lit up.

“Yes. Headmistress Grumman sent that for you. If you pass, she says you can be admitted on a scholarship basis.”

“Mr. Tringham!” she squealed, and jumped forward to hug him. She nearly knocked him over in her exuberance. “Thank you so much!”

“Don’t thank me,” he replied, in a surprising show of modesty. “Thanks goes to an old friend of mine. Edward Elric.”

Her eyes grew wide. “You knew him?”

“Yeah. He had a hell of a punch,” he added, smirking. “Now let’s get started on this exam.” He set it down on his desk, and offered her his chair.

A few weeks later, her acceptance letter had come in. When the summer was over, and the sunset came earlier, a cool breeze blew through the sunwashed town. It was moving day for Bennie. She would stay in the dorms at the Elric Academy, and Russel wasn’t going to miss this chance to see her off.

“I’ll write home all the time,” she said. She looked on the verge of tears as the luggage attendant loaded her bags onto a large cart destined for the appropriate car.

“Of course! And we’ll write back,” Fletcher beamed at her. He was as much of a teacher as Russel was, usually taking care of the younger ones, following his brother’s lead. He held Elisa’s hand. He’d had an announcement of his own when they’d returned from their weekend jaunt to the city. The lingering evidence of which was the pale blue gemstone shining on her finger. Sure, they were young. But Fletcher did a lot of things faster than other kids, so Russel didn’t bat an eye.

“If you feel like you’re getting overwhelmed, let me know and I’ll help you,” Russel told her, sincerity in his voice. He had a twisted pain in the pit of his stomach. He’d had it since he woke up. He really didn’t understand why, but it was bearable.

“Of course. Right away,” Bennie nodded, tears finally coming.

Russel closed the gap between them and hugged her. “When you graduate, you’ll have the knowledge you need to keep bringing life to this town. For the sake of everyone here, and those that are on the way.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t think of doing anything else.” She beamed up at him.

The train whistle sounded, signaling that it would be leaving shortly. “You’d better get on,” he told her, stepping back.

“…Right,” she replied, wiping her face. “Thank you so much-- for everything.”

“It was my pleasure,” he replied sincerely. That knot in his stomach twisted harder when she turned her back on him and headed for the entrance to the train. She never looked back.

Russel, Fletcher, and Elisa lingered on the platform until the departing train was little more than a black dot on the horizon.

“Brother, are you crying?” Fletcher asked, snapping him out of his reverie.

“No! Of course not!” Russel replied immediately, his face turning red. He wiped his face quickly with a hand.

“He was!” Elisa replied, laughing.

“That’s it! Detention for both of you!” Russel said jokingly, putting on his discipline voice.

“It’s a Saturday! And you can’t do that outside of school.” Fletcher frowned.

“Oh, so now that you’ve eloped, you don’t think I can touch you?” Russel got that mischievous smirk on his face again.

Fletcher flushed. “We didn’t elope! We’re just engaged!”

“Same difference. What’s the point of an engagement anyway when you’re just going to get married?”

“You’re not very romantic, are you?” Elisa replied.

“Nope!” Russel said unapologetically. He shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you guys. I don’t think I’ve properly congratulated my brother yet.”

“We had a party…” Fletcher said, a bit suspicious of what that smirk meant.

Russel darted for his brother, tossing him up over his shoulder like a potato sack. Fletcher flailed and struggled. “Brother, put me down!”

“Nope! Not until you take a celebratory drop into a hay bale from the top of Mr. Belshio’s barn!”

“No! Let me go! Stop! Brother!” Fletcher’s protests echoed down the street as Russel ran off toward their childhood guardian’s house. But Russel knew where that feeling in his stomach came from. He would miss Bennie, but that wasn’t all of it. It was the pain of saying goodbye to someone you respected and were proud of. Last time he’d felt this, he was watching Ed’s shoulders disappear into the darkness of the hidden staircase below the altar. But he knew he’d see Bennie again.