Title: Nature of Humans
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Warnings: Spoilers for episode 27 of FMA: Broterhood anime.
Word Count: 774
Summary: No matter how much Hohenheim wanted to change this, humans will always be weak.
Author’s Note : For springkink 's February 24 FMA prompt: Fullmetal Alchemist, Trisha/Hohenheim: strangeness - Not quite like anyone else.
This was originally going to be for another writing LJ community, but I didn’t like it and set it aside. I then went back to check some springkink prompts to see if I can do short ones, and I found one Trisha/Hohenheim prompt that I can use this story for, haha. So I pretty much went back to this story and rewrote it to fit this prompt.
I think the prompter wants this in Trisha’s POV (and maybe some smut too, haha), but I blame Episode 27 (aka, ACID TRIP CLIP SHOW, WUT) for this idea. D: Hohenheim is still fun to try out, though, wee. Thanks to seatbeltdrivein for the great betaing!
In Resembool, there was a tale passed down from generation to generation about what lived in the forest. As the older folks told it, if you ventured into that forest, an immortal monster is searching for its loved one that made it to the afterlife, and if you cross its path, it’ll kill you in a blind rage…
Hohenheim never believed in those stories.
The man was standing in the pond, not minding his feet and pants getting wet. In spite of the stories, or maybe because of them, wandering the forest became a regular routine for him. But the reason for is wandering in the forest that night was a different matter.
He gazed at the moon and sighed, thinking about the way he’d been when he’d first arrived in town. Meeting his true love hadn’t ever occurred to him as a possibility in Resembool. It wasn’t the first time Hohenheim fell in love, but he knew for certain Trisha would be the last one. He so easily saw himself with her, the two of themstarting a family and growing old together…
It was that very thought which drove Hohenheim from their home that night.
Tell me what you can change. The nature of their species? They will always be weakened and frightened creatures.
His throat went dry. Unlike him, cursed with immortality, humans died and were forgotten—that damned Homunculus would always remind him of that. He tried to be caring, but would that help? He felt so helpless—Hohenheim knew there was nothing he could do to change the nature of humans.
The man flinched and turned around to see a young woman staring at him wide-eyed.
“Trisha…” he whispered, a hint of surprise showing in his voice.
“Why did you leave?”
It was such a simple question. Hohenheim found he couldn’t meet Trisha’s gaze as he said, “I’ve just been thinking too much—about what I told you.”
Thinking about the day he told her his secret still filled his stomach with butterflies. The horrified look that donned her face at the story of his suffering was a scar on Hohenheim’s mind, but her words, her promise to stay at his side, soothed his troubled soul. No matter how hard he tried, he could never understand why she stayed with him when she deserved so much more.”
“One day, you won’t be at my side, and I can’t do anything about it. I want to change the nature of humans, but they’ll always be frail creatures, no matter what.”
The man lowered his head, a tired sigh escaping him. It took him over four hundred years to find the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, but he had found her. Hohenheim hadn’t allowed himself to consider Trish’s mortality at first, too drunk with love for her. She wasn’t in the best of health, but she had a fiery spirit. It was that which had attracted him to her in the first place. It pained him to think that one day she wouldn’t live anymore.
It took him a moment to register that someone was holding his hands and caressing them. When he looked up again, Trisha was smiling at him.
“We will change, because we can change. We may be weak, but that’s what gives us a reason to grow, to get strong. I know it may seem futile to you, but we’re getting stronger with every step we take.”
A stunned look spread across the immortal’s face. That was one of the main characteristics of humans that the Homunculus didn’t understand, the characteristic that Hohenheim admired so much—the will to fight for their loved ones, for their beliefs. It was a desire he knew well.
“We have to fight in order to live, and that’s what makes us strong.”
Hohenheim found himself smiling for the first time that night. Trisha never ceased to amaze him.
In swift motion, the alchemist lifted her up and pressed his lips to hers. Her legs wrapped around his waist, Trisha letting out a startled sound. Hohenheim didn’t care that his shirt got soaked from the splashing of her feet. The feel of her hands on his face made him melt inside. He could hold her like this for eternity (his mind didn’t register what he’d just thought).
Their lips parting, Hohenheim found himself content to simply watch her. “This is why I love you so much.”
Trisha giggled. “You’re not quite like anyone else, but that’s what made me fall for you.”
A silly grin broke across his face.
She’s not quite like anyone else either.