Title: Insignificant Details
Author: Jordanna Morgan (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Archive Rights: Please request the author’s consent.
Characters: Mustang and Edward.
Summary: Occasionally, Ed’s observation skills fail him.
Disclaimer: They belong to Hiromu Arakawa. I’m just playing with them.
Notes: Written for the prompt word “Square” at Fan Flashworks. Just another meager little effort I managed to wring out in the midst of chaos, after an exhausting move to a new town.
“What is it now, Colonel?” Edward Elric demanded, slamming the door behind him as he barged into Roy Mustang’s office.
Mustang looked up unamusedly from his usual sea of paperwork. “Oh, nothing much. Only that you’re going to have to go back to the village you just returned from, and finish fixing the damage you left behind.”
Ed gaped. “What do you mean? I did fix everything! You’d never know things got a little messy when Al and I were taking down that crazy Brimstone Alchemist. I left the place better than new!”
“Yes, so I hear… except for the minor detail that Lanswell’s town square is now a town circle.”
For a long moment, Ed stared at his superior, as his face began to turn red. Mustang savored the fact that he could practically hear the gears grinding in the boy’s skull. He wasn’t sure whether it was from the effort of instinctively coming up with an excuse, or simply comprehending the meaning of the error.
“…So what if it’s a circle instead of a square?” Ed snapped at last. “It’s still a big plaza in the middle of town where those yokels can hold their dances or public trials or whatever it is they do. What’s the difference?”
“Probably the fact that the former square was very precisely aligned with the stars—which ‘those yokels’ seem to think is rather important to their yearly festivals.” Mustang smirked. “…Or does the great ‘Hero of the People’ not mind being remembered as the person who disrupted centuries of ceremonial traditions?”
Ed’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth snapped shut almost audibly. After a simmering pause, he turned on his heel, and stiffly marched away.
“Fine, I’m going,” he muttered sullenly, and the door slammed a second time to mark his exit.
© 2016 Jordanna Morgan