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Despite how young he was at the time, Ed remembered the spark he felt when he first learned about science. There was nothing quite like it when understanding the world around him. A set of laws and principles, no matter how perplexing a situation was, always had to be followed, and Ed found beauty in it.
An apple breaking free from a tree branch cannot ignore the gravitational pull that compels it to fall and hit the ground, a book from his father’s study cannot move from one position on the desk to another unless Ed gives it a push, a pot of water on a stove cannot gain energy unless his mother turns on the gas knob and burns a match to start a combustion reaction, and so forth.
Science was universal, and he loved that it was. Because that also meant there was always a solution to be found at the end of the day.
He knew it was hypocritical of him to blindly agree with everything science proclaimed as truth. He was never the biggest stickler for the rules, after all, and he knew that there were always consequences for his actions, just like science commanded.
Ed learned that the hard way when his mother answered an impatient knock at their door one late afternoon when he was six years old.
“Oh, hello,” she greeted politely. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
In front of his mother at their doorstep was an older woman whose gaudy outfit refused to acknowledge the very definition of shame. The wine red dress clad beneath an obscene fur coat with a hideous leopard print did little to hide the fact that the unexpected guest was obviously not from Resembool. The permanent scowl etched into her wrinkled face caked with loud makeup also made it quite obvious she wasn’t a local if her polished soft waves and a pair of dangling pearl earrings didn’t make that abundantly clear already.
Instead of returning a greeting, the older woman crossed her arms and stared down Trisha. She eyed her with a smirk, taking note of her disheveled chestnut brown hair and humble outfit consisting of a simple lavender dress and a well-worn apron.
“Is the blonde brat who beat my grandson your runt?”
Ed could also recall the stench of perfume radiating from the older woman being so sickly that he instinctively crinkled his nose and furrowed his eyebrows, despite eavesdropping from a corner a few feet from the hallway. His frown naturally followed suit, but he couldn’t remember if it was also because of the perfume or because she practically called him short.
Trisha could only blink in confusion.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I got your name before, Miss…?”
“That’s Mrs. Yvette to you,” The older woman sneered. “Tally’s grandmother, and I think you owe him and I a lot more apologies. He was practically inconsolable when he came home from school today after your little freak attacked him unprovoked! His poor parents are at a loss right now and had to send me here to deal with you. Do you have any idea what it’s like to see your precious grandson come home with a broken nose and leg, Miss Elric?”
Ed could see that the older woman’s words stung Trisha by the way she slightly recoiled at the correction, almost as if she was targeting her for being an unwed single mother, and he felt his heart sink.
Sure, it was true Tally was left with a nosebleed and a horribly bruised shin after Ed caught him picking on Al earlier that day, but that didn’t mean his mother was the one to shoulder the responsibility. This went against everything science taught him: if he was the one who applied an action, then it was he who was going to experience an equal and opposite reaction, not anyone else. Especially his mother.
He started this mess, and he was going to finish it.
Just as he made his way to the door, Ed heard the front door creak loudly. The grip on the wooden frame tightened, the hand that grasped it trembling slightly.
Ed froze in his tracks. He had never seen his mother falter from her usual bright smile and gentle demeanor before. That day was a testament of what Trisha Elric was truly capable of in spite of the abundant cheerfulness that infected everyone around her.
“Of course, Mrs. Yvette. I sincerely apologize. That’s no way for a child to behave, especially when playing with friends…” Trisha said softly as she hung her head low.
The older woman snorted.
“Friends? I don’t want that freak near my Tally ever again! God knows what she’ll do next with the way she’s running around in pants and cutting her hair that short. That’s no way for a lady to behave, don’t you think? If you keep letting her say she’s a boy, she might actually delude herself into thinking she really is one.”
At that moment, Ed didn’t know whether time had frozen like he was just a few moments ago or if his heart that was hammering away in his ears made it feel like it did. All he knew was that he didn’t want to stand there and take it anymore.
Was it really that weird for him to not want to look or act like a girl?
His parents didn’t think much of it when he proudly declared himself an older brother the moment Trisha broke the news that Al was inside her belly. Hohenheim wasn’t against it, but he wondered why Ed might’ve thought he was a brother instead of his then-designated role as a sister. In response, Trisha simply expressed how thrilled she was to see Ed also excited to have a younger brother.
Even Al wasn’t against Ed being his older brother. When Ed promised he would marry Winry after learning people who were in love did that, she was taken aback by the proposal. Not because she didn’t like Ed, but because “only boys could marry girls.” To that, Al asked her what was wrong if his brother was already a boy.
When Ed was four and tugged on his mother’s dress to ask her to cut his hair even shorter than Winry’s, she didn’t hesitate. Instead, she brought out a small stack of fashion magazines from a few years ago and had him pick one he wanted. When he shoved all four magazines away from him at the dining table, Trisha wondered if there was nothing to his liking.
“These are all girl hairstyles. I want something like Al’s.”
Sure enough, Trisha tried her hand at delivering what Ed wanted, and both of them were fairly impressed. From then on, Ed requested the same exact hairstyle whenever his hair got longer for his taste, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way.
So then why was being himself such a sin? Did his own mother also secretly think he was a freak?
“Mrs. Yvette.” Trisha’s voice, firm and clear, snapped Ed out of his thoughts.
He looked up at his mother, who was now standing tall with her head held high.
“I acknowledge Ed did something wrong by hurting your grandson, that much is true and fair,” Trisha nodded. “And you can call me whatever names you’d like after having to deal with such a stressful event. I take full responsibility as a parent for not being stern enough against physical violence.”
She then stopped, maintaining unwavering eye contact with the older woman and taking a step forward.
“But don’t you dare call my son a freak. Don’t you ever badmouth either of my children again.”
The older woman flinched upon the abrupt change in Trisha’s demeanor, blindly underestimating the mother before her.
“W-well, I never! Neither you nor your lunatic daughter have the faintest idea what it means to be a proper lady, and I can see why. She had no choice but to be confused without her father in her life!” The older woman stormed off almost immediately with her face beet red even under all that heavy makeup.
With her back facing him, Ed had no idea what kind of expression his mother wore. It didn't matter anyway. What mattered to Ed was he now knew his mother would always be there for him, regardless of everyone’s acceptance or rejection.
A quivering sigh escaped Trisha’s lips before she pushed the door closed, turning and stopping just in time before she could bump into Ed, who was still stuck in time. She gasped, wiping the corners of her eyes and sniffing before drying her hands on her apron.
“Ah, Ed! I didn’t see you there. You and Al must be hungry, huh? The onions Mom was cutting for dinner were too spicy so I had to step out a little bit—”
Trisha forgot the rest of what she was trying to say as Ed slammed himself into her, burying his face into her apron. The familiar scent of soap and daisies was calming, yet he couldn’t help his hands that were desperately wrapping themselves around his mother from keeping still.
“‘M sorry…‘m sorry…’m sorry…!” Ed cried into Trisha like a broken record.
He didn’t know what else to say after doubting her when all she did was endure being ridiculed and stand up for him when it was his burden to bear. All of this was caused by him, and yet, he wasn’t the one who experienced the equal and opposite force as he should’ve.
He felt his mother’s gentle hands cradling his head and her hair enveloping him in a safe net against the world. Trisha’s reassuring whispers were quiet for her son’s sake, but she knew she was also going to burst into tears if she raised her voice any higher.
“Oh, my boy…my sweet, sweet boy…you have nothing to apologize for. Absolutely nothing.”
That was the first time Ed learned science could be overturned on its head just like that. It was all he could ever think about when they lowered her coffin into the ground just a year later. He couldn’t be snapped out of his thoughts when asked to lead the funeral procession. He didn’t bother being the first one to throw the dirt when Al asked him, either.
He was always the first to offer his help whenever Trisha asked him and Al for a hand. This time, though, he just couldn’t bring himself to help her return to the earth one last time.
It wasn’t fair, yet he knew it all too well. The numerous figures who spearheaded research and important studies on the cycle of life told him so. The townspeople told him so. Even Winry and Granny Pinako told him so.
Worst of all, science told him so.
But now, it was his turn to transgress the laws of that very same science to bring back the one who defied everything all for his sake.
After everyone else left and his little brother remained sobbing in front of Trisha’s grave, Ed spoke up for the first time since her passing.
“Al, let’s bring Mom back.”
It was the least he could do to redeem himself as her son.