(Following is my Spanish -> English translation of Royai AU fanfic, "De la simetría de los mundos"
("On World's Parallels") by angerulegna
at FanFiction.Net. Translation is done with the author's permission. Please let me know about any wording mistake.)
WARNING! It may include mild spoilers up to FMA manga chapter 101 and FMA:Brotherhood anime episode 59.
"I LOST your presence,
but I will find it;
since hidden knowledge
tells to my conscience
that in another existence
I will get you back
" Amado NervoRoy(POV)
«What surprised me the most was the sound of blood when hitting against the ground. As ordinary as the water that spill the cleaner women while doing the washing of the floors of an office.
I suppose it's nothing particular. Water. Blood. Similar densities. The acceleration and gravity laws are the same for all bodies.
If I close my eyes I can still see the chain of actions in crescendo. A tiny shine moving along a sword. An invisible line being drawn in the air, but sharp enough to cut with a single slash with... the neck of that woman. The dark spatters on the ground and that run-of-the-mill sound resounding since then in my head.
—Those dreams Mister... Mustang? Do you see them in color or in black and white?
Lying back on the couch of another therapist. Of another female therapist to be more precise. I don't exactly feel that my 'problem' is getting better. Counting her there are already 4 the professionals that have tried to help me. Five if I include the masseuse of the Ritz but at least with her I could actually appreciate the 1500 grand she charged for her session.
—I don't see those 'dreams' Miss Kimberly. I'm not even really asleep when they happen. I'm part of the scene and sometimes it's as real as being talking to you. Two physicians, two psychiatrists and a hundred of tests rule out the presence of tumors in my brain. And before we get to the word dopamine I must warn you that the only schizoid symptom of my personality are those non-incapacitating 'hallucinations'.
—I'm psychologist, not psychiatrist Mister Mustang and I remind you that you're here out of your own free will and that likewise you can leave when you want it.
In order to be fair to my new psychologist, she doesn't resemble at all the others who have seen me. Maybe the masseuse a little, but that's Havoc's fault and mine for asking my bodyguard his opinion on the selection. What else could I have expected? The guy has no idea about doctors, but he has always had a weakness for big breasted women. As for me I'm more of a legs guy, but if a woman has both. Who am I to complain?
—Speak to me about the woman in your vision —she doesn't give up. I like that in a woman—. Yes, you already brought up that she is a stranger and that you can't see her face but... How is she? Can you describe other of her features?
—Twenty-something, height 1 65, about 50 kg, blonde hair... Do you color your hair? —I hadn't considered it at all, but the overall look of the woman I see and Miss Kimberly is the same. If she was blonde I could swear that...
—We're not here to speak about me. Does she resemble some other woman of your life? Some cousin, girlfriend, mother, sister?
—How is your relationship with your girlfriend Mister Mustang?
—I have no girlfriend.
—You are not going to believe me, but being a Republic Counselor is a harsh job. Is it just me or are we straying from proper professional ground? —Personally, that would be a lead I wouldn't mind at all. Behind that conservative appearance, dark hair, wool stocking, turtleneck sweater and low-heeled shoes can be noted a very interesting woman.
—Dreams, Mister Mustang often are manifestations of our unconscious. Complete depictions of our deepest fears. A woman being murdered in front of your eyes in a cruel way, without you being able to prevent it. Sounds like some kind of affective disorder with the opposite sex. A feeling I see reinforced by the unseemly attention you pay to certain areas of my anatomy and your unchanging flirting.
Not kicking the bush, not raising her voice, but with an exemplary strength. Not even Olivia could get me back to my place in such a natural way.
—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you.
—When did start to appear those scenes?
—A couple of years ago.
—What happened affectively speaking in your life a couple of years back?
—I broke up with my fiancée... an attractive blonde.
—Out of what reason?
—Unfaithfulness. —Then I was just one more lawyer of the Armstrong & Armstrong firm, but being Olivia the daughter of an ex president she has always had enough fame for all kind of speculations about our breakup to head the gossip pages for months. “Playboy breaks Princess Armstrong heart".
—How do you feel about that unfaithfulness?
By a moment I feel disoriented. I see how the picture of an office overlaps the office where I am. Now it's me the one who's seated at a desk and Miss Kimberly is standing up dressed in a bright blue military uniform. Her hair is blonde as gold and her chin is up. She has a sad gaze that pains me more than anything else but in her eyes I can see too an unwavering determination that calms me down.
—Are you sure you want to follow me?
—Follow you where Mister Mustang?
The scene vanishes as quickly as it had formed. Damn! I even said something aloud that 'Are you sure you want to follow me?' Follow me?
—Mister Mustang are you feeling alright?
—No. I mean. What I mean is that I just... I want you in my campaign advisors team. I want you to follow me, to be at my side giving me advice.
She ends up silent and looks directly into my eyes. I know the proposal I just made doesn't make much sense, but not all my decisions are totally rational. Over the course of time and in this profession you learn to follow your instincts, to listen to that little inner voice that is pointing you when to speak or shut up, when to propose or refuse. And just now I know she is what I want, what I need.
I took her by surprise. Good sign.
She frowns. Bad sign.
—Mister Mustang. If you think that... —It'll be better not letting her finish that
—I see potential. "Professional" potential in you. As I already told you, you're not the first specialist I consult, but you were much more perceptive, receptive and assertive than the average of people I'm used to deal with. How long have we been in this session 20 30 minutes? And you have gone right to bring up many key points that took to others entire days being able to point. That’s what I need. Somebody who helps me to assess my opponents quickly. A sincere and objective view of what my public actions are projecting. I bet that you're good with words. I'd like you to check up a couple of speeches I have to make next week.
Again she ends up silent. Good omen?
—I'm flattered, but I don't think it's ethical of me to accept your proposal. Me being your therapist I shouldn't...
—In that case you're fired. I don't need you as my psychologist. I want to see you first thing tomorrow at my office.
—I can pay you twice as much as you earn attending appointments. —I goofed up again. Those expressive cinnamon-colored eyes will end up being my doom. Of course she doesn't work just for the money. She is not that kind of person—. I can leave you a couple of afternoons for you to attend the patients you want to see. Look. I know that maybe in the while we have been talking I have not showed the best image I could of myself. I’m a politician and flattering and flirting with others’ interests is what I do for a living. But the true reason behind why I’m engaged in what I’m engaged is to help people, the ones who truly need it. This country was at the mercy of the mafia for a long time and the only thing that left behind was orphans, hunger and devastation. I know I can do something for the things to change, but for that I need to have authority enough. I need to climb up posts for my voice to be able to be listened and the actions I take to be significant. What I’m asking, is for you to help me with that dream. Give me a week to show you what I truly do and if what I do doesn’t convince you, you come back here and go on with your usual job. Is it a deal?