Alphonse sat on the creaky wooden bench, his massive armored frame sinking it slightly into the dirt beneath. Edward had dashed off to grab something to eat and he stayed here.

He shifted uncomfortably, the metallic scrape of his armor loud enough to turn a few heads. People gave him a wide berth as they passed.

"Excuse me," a soft voice broke through his thoughts.

Alphonse turned his helmet toward the sound. A woman had settled on the opposite end of the bench. She wasn’t looking at him like the others did. Her expression was open, curious, but not fearful.

Alphonse turned his helmet slightly toward her. She was sitting a few feet away, her head tilted, an easy smile on her face. He hadn’t even noticed her there.

She chuckled softly, leaning forward a little. “You’ve got a really interesting look.”

“Thanks,” Alphonse mumbled. Compliments about his "look" always felt weird. What was he supposed to say? It’s not really a choice—it’s a long story involving human transmutation and losing my body.

The woman studied him with a mix of curiosity and amusement, her gaze lingering on his chest plate. “So… are you just shy, or do you not want to show your face?”

Oh no. That question. He could almost hear Edward groaning about him being too nice to lie properly.

“Uh… I’m just shy!” Alphonse said quickly, waving a gauntleted hand as if to brush off the topic. “It’s kind of… embarrassing...”

“Fair enough,” she said, nodding. “You must be huge, though.”

Alphonse blinked—or at least, he thought of it as blinking. Huge?

The woman held up her hand, palm out. “Look, I bet my hand is tiny compared to yours.” Before he could process what she was doing, she pressed her hand against his, her palm dwarfed by his metal gauntlet.

He froze. For a moment, something weird happened—something he couldn’t explain. Her touch wasn’t supposed to mean anything, not through steel and alchemy. But somehow, it did. It was faint, like the memory of a feeling rather than the real thing, but it was there. Warmth. Pressure.

Contact.