Chapter Text
For years, Jyugo had traveled around the world. Seen the sights, and the people. If sights could be considered the inside of prison cells, that was.
He had been on a self-appointed quest. To catch the man with the scar. The one who had given him the shackles welded to his body. He hadn’t expected to ever make a breakthrough in that case, though. Not after he’d ended up in Nanba, the dead end of all prisons.
Zakuro had blindsided him. A boy in almost exactly the same predicament as him. Here now, and ready to get him out. To help him escape.
“What’re you waiting for?” Zakuro asked, looking around wildly as his hand continued to be stretched out towards Jyugo, “Come on, we gotta get out quick before the guards get here!”
Jyugo stood there, hands shaking, staring at this chance. A chance for freedom. A chance to see the open skies and walk wherever he wanted to, and no strictly regimented day. He could have it all. If he just grabbed the hand of this boy who offered it.
“I- I can’t.” He explained, shortly.
“Why not?” Zakuro’s face twisted in confusion, before clearing up in a realization, “Wait, you’ve never been outside, have you?”
“Not true.” Jyugo denied quickly, “Once, me and Uno broke out of an American prison to go to Las Vegas. We wandered around for a month before ending back up in prison.”
Zakuro scoffed, “A month. That’s nothing, Jyugo. You and I, we deserve to be free. To not be controlled all the time or used for tests. Everyone else gets it by default, right? I say we should get that, too!”
And then, he twisted away from Jyugo, turning his pomegranate-red shackles into the drill versions they were before, and then turning them towards the floor. An unholy screeching sound churned through the air.
“Hey, hey, stop that!” Jyugo snapped, tugging at the part of his arm that wasn’t currently coated in metal, “Digging us out won’t help in this scenario. The island is artificial. And floats on water. Don’t be an idiot.”
“I’m not!” Zakuro insisted, even though his manic tone said otherwise, “I promise, Number Fifteen, I’m going to get you out of here, and then we’re going to get you a real name!”
That stopped Jyugo in his tracks.
A real name?
He’d always been Fifteen. As long as he could remember. No one had ever cared to give him a better one. And yet…
When Zakuro stood there, and offered him one, he didn’t rise to the bait.
Jyugo held his ground, “If you do this, you’re never getting out.” He warned, “I don’t like it either, but I know what it’s like to be a fugitive. Even if it’s for only a month or so at a time. They’ll keep looking for you. There’s no freedom in that.”
Zakuro’s lip quivered, and the sudden spasm of his outburst nearly disrupted the flow of his carving. And it was a carving, Jyugo realized as he looked down. The boy had carved a circle into the floor, and was drilling some sort of pattern into it. How that was meant to help them escape, he didn’t have the foggiest idea.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to find out, either, as he slowly managed to talk down Zakuro by the time Hajime and the other guards managed to break down the blockade and rush in, ready to apprehend the escapees.
“I- I’m sorry.” Zakuro explained, “This- I- I didn’t want to cause any trouble. I want to try, at least.” The boy hesitated, before holding up his hands nervously, transforming the drills back into bulky shackles.
Hajime looked at him carefully, “The Man with the Scar?” He guessed.
Zakuro’s expression splintered, “Yeah!” He agreed, near tears again, “It’s not fair! I didn’t do any of the things they’re accusing me of, I swear!”
“Okay.” Hajime agreed, “We’re going to get you a cell. Where that can’t happen again. And then you can tell me your side of the story. I’ve had too many mentions of this Man With The Scar to not try and help you.”
His relief was palpable, shoulders drooping down, “Oh, thank you!”
Hajime guided him away slowly, before turning back to the floor, “Hey, Jyugo, what’s up with the art piece on the floor?”
“Huh? Hell if I know.” Jyugo shrugged, before pointing to Zakuro, “You should ask this guy. He’s the one who made it.”
In that time, however, a giant rabbit mech had flown over the building and snatched Zakuro off, its pilot cackling madly.
“Damn Rabbit.” Hajime swore, not looking surprised. Okay, so rabbit mechs existed in real life. Good to know. Sometimes, Jyugo’s understanding of the real world was lacking. It was nice to be able to gauge what was normal and what wasn’t with people like Hajime and Seitarou.
“I’m taking all of you back to your cell.” Hajime announced, “We need to get Zakuro’s transfer paperwork done immediately.”
“Does this mean we’re never going to see him again?” Uno asked, looking relieved, “Building One’s getting stuck with him, right?”
“Yeah, it seems so.” Hajime agreed.
Niko looked less appeased by that answer, “But that’s not fair!” He insisted, “Please, please, you’ll at least let him come on hangout days, right? Right?!”
“…I’ll talk to Ichijou about it.” Jyugo was certain that that would mean no.
The next time they had a scheduled time slot in the game room, however, along with the other inmates from outside Building 13, Zakuro was also there, holding a rabbit toy the size of his torso.
“Not a toy.” He tersely told them when Niko tried to reach for it, “Building One’s Supervisor does not skimp on security.”
Of course, Niko didn’t listen, and he ended up flat on his back as the miniature guard kicked into attack mode and pummeled him into the ground.
“Say, Zakuro…” Uno asked, “What was up with the circle thing you drew? Some sort of landing pad signal?”
Rock laughed, “No way! It wasn’t nearly big enough for that!”
“Uhh… It…” Zakuro’s cheeks reddened, and it became obvious that he wouldn’t be talking. There was uncomfortable silence for a moment, until Trois waved his hands to attract their group’s attention.
“Hey, Number 396, was it? Are you any good at darts? I bet you can beat Honey easily!”
Honey screeched in outrage from behind him, but the ploy had worked. Zakuro nodded and shyly, and rushed away from the uncomfortable tension. Over his shoulder, Trois winked at Jyugo.
Since their time in Building Five’s dungeon, Trois had helpfully been explaining social norms and etiquette that Jyugo had missed out on learning. Things like how to respond to compliments, or how to look like you’re really interested in a conversation. The way he explained it was direct and to the point. They made sense in a way that Uno’s explanations didn’t.
And his expertise in people had saved them yet again.
“You’re comparing us again, aren’t you?” Uno accused him.
“I would never.” Jyugo insisted, to save his friend’s feelings.
Uno dragged him off to play a game of snooker, and then one of Niko’s arcade games. After that, they moved onto a card game. It was only when the one allotted hour was nearly up that Jyugo was able to extract himself from his friend’s possessive grip.
Despite everything, he found himself being drawn to the pattern in the courtyard. Hajime had made no attempt to fix it, even after a month. Maybe because all the other work that needed to be done was more important than fixing what looked like an extremely roughshod art piece.
Jyugo looked at the symmetrical design, watching all the swooping lines converge on various points inside the circle, all perfectly planned. And very difficult to achieve via drill. Zakuro had clearly put a lot of thought and effort into making this. But why?
A hand inched forward, the weight of his iron shackle making his arm dip down slightly more than a regular person’s would. Not that he would know. He was so used to their anchoring weight, he had no idea how he would work without them.
The door to the game room was right behind him, maybe a few meters away. Zakuro was standing there, he could tell by the sharp intake of breath.
“Hey, Jyugo, don’t-” He began to warn, stepping towards him.
Jyugo’s hand came down on it before the words could fully compute.
It was a circle carved into stone. There was no power source, no mechanism, nothing. He had seen it be carved into stone by a drill of mysterious origin. But it was just a circle.
Even then, the lines in the stone lit up. A bright glow filled the courtyard, encompassing even the game room, where people were gathering up to see what was going on.
The light grew brighter and brighter, and then. Nothing.
Blue skies were the first thing Jyugo saw.
The second was the horizon. Just the horizon. No walls, no bars, no chains. He took a deep breath, and the smell of rust and grime and cleaning solution that accompanied prisons everywhere was absent.
There was still smoke, it was true, but most of all there was the smell of rain, and grass, and sounds of people talking in the distance, who for once didn’t sound like harsh, gruff guards.
His hands dug into the ground as he tried to take stock of the situation. He was on a grassy incline. There was a whole world stretched out in front of him. He was free.
Jyugo’s shackles were still there, though. And he knew without checking that his tattooed identity numbers were also there, too, under his clothes and hidden from view. He wasn’t really free. Not until the Man With The Scar set him free from being a monster.
He turned around, spying a boy with whitened hair lying on the ground, a thick band of red fastened around his neck. Zakuro.
It was only his rage that gave him the strength to heave the boy up, “What the hell did you do?!”
Zakuro shrieked, completely blindsided, “What the hell do you mean, what did I do? I was the one trying to stop you! I didn’t want this!”
“That- that thing you drew. You knew it would do this.” He pointed out, “You knew. And you didn’t tell anyone. Hajime would’ve had it paved over before any of the walls were fixed if he had known. This is your fault.”
Zakuro didn’t acknowledge it, which might as well have been an admission of guilt.
“Nothing to be done about it now, huh?” He laughed nervously, “We’re here now.”
“Where’s here?” Jyugo asked, looking around, “Some part of… Europe?” He tried to guess, because the climate and the landscape seemed similar to the few glimpses of the city he’d gotten when he had been transported through train there.
“Uh… something like that, yes.” Zakuro agreed, “Consider this an alternate universe of sorts. I don’t know all the details, but the array should have brought us to a country there called Amestris.”
“Great. Another dimension.” Jyugo nodded, before pausing for a second, “You think the Man With The Scar can reach us here?”
It was the main reason he had known that he would never be free. He would never be able to work off his undeserved prison sentence. To clear his name. To blend back into society as best as he could. Not when the Man With The Scar had needed to run more tests on him. But if this… Amestris… was out of his reach, then Jyugo might actually be free here. For the very first time.
Zakuro’s guilty expression killed any hope of that.
“I, er, might’ve found out about this array through his faction’s notes.” He admitted, “So that’s probably a no-go.”
Of course. He should’ve seen that coming.
“Let’s go, anyway.” Zakuro decided, standing up, “We’re obviously escaped convicts. We need to get a change of clothes before they call the police or something.”
“We both have giant ass shackles around our arms, legs, and necks.” Jyugo explained, ungently, “I don’t think different clothes are going to make us look any less like escaped convicts.”
“But we can at least try.” Zakuro replied, “Can’t roll over now, jailbird. Welcome to the real world.”
Niko had been playing foosball with Uno and Rock when Zakuro had yelled in alarm from the door, running outside to where Jyugo was standing.
Of course, like everyone else, he had rushed over to see what was going on. And then there was bright flash of light, transporting him straight into… wherever here was. A small city, where no one had seemed to notice them suddenly appearing in a bright flash of light.
“I don’t know what anyone’s saying.” He mumbled as Uno led them to the back of a house, where some family’s laundry was being hung out to dry.
“It’s German, I think.” Uno replied, “Might be Dutch, though. I don’t know. Don’t worry about it and just grab yourself some clothes.”
“Good thinking!” Rock commended him, gathering up white shirts and brown pants in each of their sizes, “Talk about a lucky break, huh, Uno?”
Uno snorted, “This? This ain’t lucky. If anything, it’s unlucky. We’re in a strange society with no idea how we got here, and no way to communicate. If anyone in that room had a jailbreak planned, they certainly didn’t look it, either.”
“So, we’re in trouble?” Niko surmised.
“Deep shit, I’d say.” Uno agreed, “Me and Jyugo have spent some time in a German prison, so I picked up some, but I don’t think it’ll be enough to talk to these people.”
“It’s more than we can!” Rock pointed out heartily, “Do your best to get some information, will you?”
Uno didn’t like it, it was clear with how he was glaring. But he agreed. While the other two tried to hack off the ball and chain attached to Nico’s leg, Uno ventured out into the town to ask around about the people there.
He didn’t come back. Not even by the time Nico was free of the ball and had thrown it away.
“We… should probably start getting worried, huh?” Rock guessed, “Think we should look for him?”
Ed had remained in Liore for perhaps a bit too long. His initial plan was to leave as soon as they had pointed out the deception of the priest, but something had kept him there.
And he had a striking suspicion that this was it.
Some guy, maybe twenty years old, was talking to a passerby in slow, halting Amestrian.
Normally, this would mean nothing. But a few interesting things stuck out to him. The guy had bright pink hair for one. He’d never even seen such a color on fabric, let alone hair. And there were bright blue ‘1’s tattooed on each of his fists.
All very eye-catching. But even that wasn’t as interesting as what this man was saying, through broken and unpracticed words.
“What… would you call this… country?”
“Where is here?”
And, most crucially:
“There was a circle. Please. There was a circle. And a bright light. Where’s here?”
“Brother, are you really eavesdropping on that man?” Alphonse asked, his giant metal body scrunched up to whisper disapprovingly into his ear.
“He’s just saying some very interesting things!” Ed replied, “You think the guy was caught up in an alchemical array? Some sort of space-time one?”
He’d never heard of one actually working. But the man might actually be from Xing or Aerugo or someplace else, and had just gone on a bender and woken up here, with some vague memories of the last night.
“You’ll never know unless you ask him.” Al pointed out sagely, “I think you’re creeping everyone out with how you’ve just been staring at him.”
Really, who’d decided to make Ed the older brother?
He scoffed and walked up to the man, who had given up on bothering the flower seller, and instead had moved onto another innocent passerby.
“Hey!” He broke into the conversation quickly, “You. You’re asking about a circle?”
The man froze for a second, “Uh… Yes?”
“Do you think it was alchemy?” Ed pushed.
“What’s al-che-my?” The man stumbled over the words, before adding, “Where am I?”
An incredulous laugh almost burst out from him, “You don’t know what alchemy is?” Even if they were in Liore, where knowledge of this stuff wasn’t concrete, and other countries might have different words for it, it was still ludicrous that no one would understand what he meant by that.
“You’re in Amestris.” Al helpfully added in.
The man gulped and looked up at the suit of armor for a second, before replying, “I… er… Amestris?”
“Landlocked country, once used to be a giant empire, maybe you’ve heard of it?” Ed joked.
The man looked at him blankly.
Okay, this was getting stranger by the second.
“Listen, I’m a State Alchemist.” He decided to say instead, “We’re with the military. Come with us, and we’ll figure out what’s up with you.”
The man stiffened at that, clearly recognizing those words, at least.
“Nothing bad will happen to you.” Ed tried to promise him, “I’ll make sure of it.”
Too late, the man was already bolting in the opposite direction, screaming something that sounded almost like… not again?
“Oh, fuck this, the guy’s fishy as hell.” He decided, “Come on, Al, we gotta catch him!”
Al sighed and lumbered behind him as they took off on a chase.
Hajime slumped into the chair, staring at the security footage Mitsuru had pulled.
“They’re gone.” He breathed, “All eleven of them.”
“Aren’t there twelve appointed for that day?” Samon asked, flicking through the guard schedules, “What happened to the last inmate?”
“Musashi had a medical exam.” Kenshirou explained, “So he missed out on all the excitement.”
“Thank god for that, too.” Kiji said, “We’ve already lost two of our most high-profile inmates. If a third had gone, too…” They all shuddered.
Mitsuru hummed, sitting at the head of the table, “But see, here’s the thing: Each of those inmates is incredibly important. And this is the biggest break Nanba has experienced ever.”
It was true. In its history, Nanba had experienced only one successful prison break. And the man responsible for that was the undoubtedly the father of the boy responsible for this one.
Hajime wondered how Jyugo would feel about that if he knew.
“Niko didn’t get his medication today.” He said hollowly, “He needs careful observation and help to remain stable.”
“Same with Qi. He had a dialysis appointment scheduled in a week.” Samon agreed, looking tired and contemplative, “The man’s missing half his organs. Wherever he is, he ain’t gonna last long.”
“And if the Warden ever catches wind of this, we’re not gonna last long.” Ichijou added, looking more concerned for his own safety than anything else. Which he was right about. The second Warden Hyakushiki returned, all their heads were going to be on pikes.
“Lucky for all of us, I know exactly where that little circle portal took them!” Mitsuru announced, pulling up a dossier, “Are you aware of that place called Amestris?”
Kiji nodded, “They came to us about having their alchemists imprisoned in Nanba?”
“And that circle Zakuro drew, upon some analysis, looks a lot like an alchemical array!” Mitsuru explained excitedly.
“You mean to say we can go there ourselves and get the inmates back here?” Kenshirou summed up.
“Exactly! And the Warden never has to hear about this.”
They all looked amongst each other seriously.
“This never leaves this room.” Samon swore. The agreement was unanimous.
They would bring back the inmates. And not a spot would be left on their records.