Chapter Text
On peut braver les lois humaines,
mais non résister aux lois naturelles.
.98
"... and then you know what he did? He called me mid - uh." He almost chokes. "Midg... midge..." It seems he can't finish the word. "... that I was, that I looked like a..."
"A not tall person?" Alfons suggests cautiously.
Edward frowns, his lips parted in an angry growl.
To Alfons' immense relief, the next moment, Ed's face slowly relaxes and the tension gives way to a resigned expression. And it looks like he's pulling out a tooth while he confirms: "A not tall person."
.99
Another taste of days. Hours, minutes. Another taste of stories - told and heard -, another taste of what his brother's face will look like when he's twenty years old - his brother who is alive, because he is, he's not dead, he's alive and Ed will find him - the face of Al and the eyes of Alfons. Another taste of those dreams in which everyone is there, there's Winry, there's Pinako and there's his teacher Izumi with a happy face, Roy Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye, Mrs. Hughes holding her daughter and her husband hands, no tombstone was ever built with his name written on it; looking into his house Edward sees his mother's soft ponytail swinging in the kitchen and Hohenheim's long hair right next to her - very close - and Alfons is always with them, always. He never coughs.
Building, walking. Drawing the stars and spending the night talking so as not to let him suffocate from coughing.
This world, a few more days.
.100
Evening.
"We could go out and look at the stars," Alfons suggests. "There's not even a cloud."
Tonight the sky is like that of his world, Ed thinks.
They're lying down watching the stars explode in a blue topaz universe: they're dusty, made of moon's crumbs condensed somewhere between the earth and the wind, and seem to draw a long and thin road like an arrow, which points straight to the heart of the universe. The dark wood is lit with fireflies and crickets.
Tonight Alfons is like Alphonse, Ed thinks.
He's there next to him and doesn't cough: he laughs, jokes. He has a gentle voice as always, but more confident than ever, he's as tall as ever, but you can't notice his height if he's lying down. If Ed wanted, he could pretend to have Alphonse beside him, because Al laughs like this, Al jokes like this, Al is like this. But Ed doesn't want to. He wants to remember which of the two Al - Alfons - explained to him who Orion was, which of the two Al - Alfons - told him that there was indeed a way in the sky, and it was not made of stars, but milk. It seems that streak of moon dust is made of milk. Yuck.
He wants to remember this moment. Alfons is winding down a little cough at a time and Alphonse is lost on the other side of the stars. It seems to him like he's running towards the twilight of something, a conclusion, a boundary, and he's always too faster than the two of them. I'm leaving them behind, he thinks.
"Can you see those four stars there, Ed? Those which form a kind of trapezoid?"
"It's full of trapezoids, up here..."
"I say those ones. You see them? There are four and then three more..."
"There they are, yes. I got 'em."
"That's Ursa Majoris, Great Bear."
"You got to tell me where is this bear."
"Look, it's just called that, okay? Can you see the two stars at the bottom of the trapezoid? Here, if you join them like this..." Alfons' fingers draw on the sky. "... and then go straight down, you get to touch that big blue star. There, that's the Polar Star. Do you remember? The Polar Star is known as the North Star, it's a kind of sky compass. Travelers used it to find their way home.
The way home. Hearing Al and Winry laughing. Letting Alfons choke here, alone, not having to hear about the cities of the moon anymore.
Edward closes his hand into a fist around the blue star and his clenched fingers swallow that luminous point in the night sky, hiding it.
"And that other star, the big one, what's it called?"
Alfons is five centimeters from him. He breathes slowly.
I just want some more time.
They lie on the lawn until morning, waiting for the new sun. In the clear blue sky, the dawn will come once again to hide the way to the stars.