The Day of the 88th Pact

Returning once more to Central City, the place seemed to have transformed completely. Though the lives of ordinary citizens appeared calm and peaceful as ever, anyone with senses as keen as Kurama’s would instantly pick up on the charged tension brewing beneath that tranquil surface—a sense of impending storm hanging thick in the air.

This city resembled a beast lurking in the darkness, jaws agape and bristling with razor-sharp teeth, waiting patiently for its prey to step unsuspectingly into its maw.

Kurama pressed his fingers a little more firmly into Mokona’s soft, sensitive ear, prompting the little creature to shiver for a moment. He then gathered the fluffball into his hands, gently nuzzling its cheek until that familiar, radiant smile slowly began to return to Mokona’s round face. Only then did the fox spirit feel at ease. With his companion in tow, he swaggered openly toward Hughes’s current place of work.

Soldiers on routine patrols and plainclothes agents with less innocent motives all pretended not to see Kurama, despite the fact that his movements were anything but subtle. Every one of them had long since received orders from above to locate this former right-hand aide to Major Mustang.

Kurama himself didn’t much care. After all, the illusionary plant barrier he maintained was so preternaturally powerful that even in the world of Fate, where Assassin-class spirits excelled at masking and detecting presences, they couldn’t sense Kurama at close range when he was within it. How could ordinary people in the Fullmetal world hope to fare better?

Thus, Kurama strolled casually to Mustang's temporary military outpost in the city’s southeast quarter, feeling neither grand nor concerned.

“Kurama!”

After a coded knock at the door, Hughes appeared, first startled, then—without another word—threw his arms wide and pulled Kurama into a crushing embrace.

During this boisterous greeting, the oblivious man even pounded Kurama’s back several times, all while the fox wore a smile so gentle it sent shivers up one’s spine.

“I knew you’d be all right! Roy’s been worrying himself sick, saying you haven’t made contact or anything…”

Still clutching Kurama, Hughes bustled him inside while chattering away in his typical doting-father fashion.

Kurama, for his part, seemed thoroughly accustomed to being treated like a child by Hughes. Not a trace of impatience marred his brow; in fact, if one looked closely, the corners of his eyes and mouth were full of soft amusement.

They wound their way up several flights of stairs to a room deep within the second floor of a modest three-story building. Hughes flung open the door and beamed at the room’s occupants.

“Ta-da! Look who’s back!”

The people inside, recognizing Kurama at once, greeted him with a chorus of delighted surprise.

“Kurama!”

“Lieutenant Kurama!”

“Kurama-kun?”

“You really made it back safely? That’s wonderful!”—a harmonious outpouring of relief.

Kurama blinked, realizing that everyone present was someone he knew. Besides Hughes, the dashing Gessert was there, as well as Lieutenant Havoc, who had recently been discharged from active service and went home to “run a general store,” along with other members of Mustang’s unit who had slipped into the underground before Roy came under surveillance.

Most of these people had witnessed Kurama’s abilities firsthand and knew of the uncanny rapport he shared with Roy—a silent glance enough to communicate entire strategies—so they regarded him as one of their own. Seeing this comrade, long declared “missing without cause,” return unscathed, their joy was palpable.

“At last… some good news,” said Lieutenant Havoc, looking uncharacteristically harried, his chin shadowed with stubble he hadn’t had time to shave. He stubbed out his cigarette and stretched his arms wide toward Kurama.

In an instant, the white fluffball leapt from Kurama’s shoulder and bounded into Havoc’s arms.

“Johhnn!”

“Mokona! It’s been ages—how have you been?”

Scooping up the soft, round creature, Havoc’s smile grew even brighter. The two of them chattered away, clearly delighted to be reunited.

Watching this with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, Kurama shrugged and turned to Hughes, who looked equally resigned.

“Let them be. Colonel, how often can you get in touch with the Major these days? There’s news I need to get to him as soon as possible.”

At the mention of business, Hughes immediately sobered. “About once or twice a week, I’d say—same as always. You know Roy’s kept visiting my house at that frequency ever since my ‘death.’”

Kurama had set up a permanent barrier at Hughes’s home, so the homunculus Pride couldn’t eavesdrop on any genuine conversations there; all he’d ever overhear were the mundane exchanges between Roy and Gracia.

“If I remember right, tonight happens to be Roy’s visiting day this week. Want me to set up a meeting?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.”

A knowing smile passed between Kurama and Hughes, both their faces radiating a mischievous anticipation.

They could hardly wait.

How would Roy react upon seeing Kurama?

Exchanging another wordless glance, Kurama and Hughes silently wished the hours would hurry by.

***

“Kurama!”

Just as Kurama and Hughes had predicted, that evening, when Roy came to visit Hughes’s house as usual, he found the red-haired youth sitting serenely in the living room, sipping tea and nibbling pastries while chatting cheerfully with Gracia. The Major’s reaction was immediate—he whipped out his gloves and prepared to put them on.

“You! You dare show your face again?!”

Thinking back on all the trouble Kurama’s disappearance had caused, and recalling how the Führer had continued to probe him about Kurama’s whereabouts, Roy’s glare grew ever sharper.

“Why couldn’t you have waited for my plan? Do you have any idea how many headaches you’ve caused me?!”

Kurama’s response was a carefree laugh.

“Wait for your plan? Major, maybe you should ask Second Lieutenant Breda, Warrant Officer Falman, and Sergeant Fuery how they felt when they received sudden, inexplicable transfer orders and were scattered to different garrisons along the border.”

Watching the Major rendered speechless, Kurama spread his hands with exaggerated innocence.

“So you see, I only acted early to avoid being forced into a situation I couldn’t resist.”

“And in the end…”

“It doesn’t seem to have cost you much. In fact, the Führer now treads carefully around you, afraid I’m plotting something in secret, and hasn’t dared to truly make things difficult for you—am I wrong?”

He flashed Roy a dazzling, triumphant smile.

Roy was so frustrated he nearly choked. Admittedly, almost everything Kurama said was true.

So why did he feel so aggravated?

Scowling at this troublemaker—who had, in his own infuriating way, also given him a safeguard even the Führer hesitated to cross—Roy fell silent for a moment, then let out a resigned sigh.

“All right, you have a point.”

Sliding into a seat beside Hughes, Roy gave a polite nod to Gracia and Alicia, who left the room tactfully. He turned to Kurama, now relaxed and composed once more.

“So, what news have you brought? You seemed eager to get it to me.”

Seeing Roy’s professional demeanor, Kurama also shifted to a more serious posture.

“To begin with, there’s something you may already know. Major General Armstrong, who guards the northern border fortress, is about to return to Central at the Führer’s summons.”

“Yes, I heard. I expect to see the Major General at headquarters in a day or two,” Roy answered gravely.

“And besides that?”

He fixed Kurama with an intense stare.

“You have news about Major General Armstrong… Did you go north?”

Kurama nodded nonchalantly. “Yes, with Mei.”

“Mei… Wait—you mean that girl from Xing traveling with Scar?!”

He nodded again.

Roy fell silent, lowering his head in thought. Kurama guessed he was quickly analyzing Scar’s reasons for heading north.

“Scar’s in the north… and so are the Elric brothers…” Roy muttered, then looked up sharply. “This isn’t a coincidence, is it?”

Something in the north was drawing all of them.

Perhaps not the same thing, but… Roy’s instincts told him there was a reason behind it all.

Kurama, of course, couldn’t reveal that it was fate—or rather, plot—guiding these events, so he only smiled and offered no answer.

But that was enough for Roy to form his own conclusions.

“What other news is there?”

His brow furrowing, Roy sat upright and asked in a low, steady voice.

Kurama’s smile widened.

“First,” he said, raising one finger, “the Führer’s adopted son, Selim Bradley, is a homunculus—codename ‘Pride.’”

Seeing that Roy showed no surprise, Kurama knew Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye must already have passed this information to the Major via coded message.

He continued without preamble.

“Second, another homunculus—codename ‘Sloth’—has appeared at the northern fortress. He’s the one digging out the entire underground transmutation circle.”

“Third—don’t ask my source, but I guarantee it’s accurate—Pride’s range of activity is limited to the center of Central City and the underground corridors forming the national array. In other words, his surveillance isn’t as tight as we thought. There are plenty of gaps to exploit.”

“Fourth…”

Kurama paused, then shifted to an even more solemn position, meeting Roy’s gaze.

“The homunculi and their ‘Father’ are waiting for a certain day.”

“A special day.”

“They plan to activate the national transmutation circle then—and they call that day…”

“…‘The Promised Day.’”

Roy’s pupils contracted sharply.

“‘The Promised Day,’” he repeated, then chuckled darkly. “I wonder… with whom, and what kind of promise?”

He didn’t seem to expect an answer from Kurama. Abruptly, he stood up.

“Lieutenant, I’ve received your full report. The Promised Day… I hope you’ll cooperate with us when the operation comes. You are still a member of the Mustang squad, aren’t you?”

Kurama was momentarily taken aback, but quickly recovered.

“Of course.”

He rose to his feet, meeting Roy’s eyes, which now sparkled with renewed determination.

“Always at your service, Major.”

Roy’s mouth twitched.

“Then until that day, remain on standby, Lieutenant.”

He turned and strode out, his pace so swift it seemed as if he were being pursued by some terrible beast.

Kurama couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the sight.

Don’t worry, Major.

He had no time for their usual games of wits now.

Looking out the window in the direction of Central Command, Kurama’s smile faded into a pensive stillness.

His own plan was only just beginning.