The jagged scars on Alphonse's back began to itch. He hadn't considered any of his scars much since his time on Hovestile. They had become so much a part of him that the sensation had dulled from his constant distractions, but he found them difficult to ignore as he stood there in the guild meeting room with Ash.

He had received the scars when he was out on a hunt with his father in the mountains. It had been winter, and the heavy snowfalls had continued unabated, obscuring prints and making it difficult to read the usual territories claimed by the wolves.

Alphonse had made a careless mistake and strayed too far from his father on that hunting trip.

His father stood next to him – hunting bow held casually in his hand – and observed a solitary wolf. It was the same wolf that had attacked Alphonse a few days earlier. He recognized the patch of white that trailed on one side and curled like an icy wind depicted in a painting of exaggerated color.

“What did I tell you about the ridge and treeline?” his father asked. “You should know their territory by now.”

A young Alphonse hunched his shoulders and stared at the snow reaching to just below his knees. “I'm sorry. I got distracted.”

His father sighed and rested a hand on his head. “Well, there's a lesson to be learned. You're lucky to be alive.”

Alphonse glanced over his shoulder and carefully watched as another animal analyzed them. A fox. He didn't know why, but the smaller animal frightened him far more than the wolf. The wolf expressed clear intent, but the fox didn't show a trace of anything. The wolf was wary, but the fox didn't seem to care.

“Wolves do not attack prey with their claws,” Alphonse's father said. “It was a warning. Wolves are unable to make the necessary movement for an adequate slice. Be grateful that it respected you enough to give that much.”

The wolf padded soundlessly a few more feet and stopped at a break in the foliage. The area exposed it fully, almost as if it was conveying that it was no longer a threat...for the moment.

Alphonse's father noticed the fox. It hadn't moved from its position on the splintered stump of a tree. Its tail swayed back and forth at the attention.

“Still, it is very unusual,” his father whispered. “Why does this one separate from the pack?” He motioned to the fox. “And this animal, you should definitely be cautious around. Foxes don't readily show fear, and they are curious creatures. Something to think about for both of them.”

Alphonse barely heard his father mutter to himself as he returned his attention to the wolf, “Never seen anything quite like this...”

Alphonse was jolted from the memory when he heard Ash speak. He no longer felt the tingling from the scars. He felt the warmth in the guild meeting room. The recollection of biting wind and cold eyes from the animals diminished but didn't vanish completely.

“'Seeker of True Equivalence,'” Ash recited the words from the spellcaster. She didn't look at Alphonse as she spoke. The aversion made her brusque attitude seem a little more reserved than usual. “I just need you to answer some questions,” she said. “Feel free to answer as you see fit. Do you have one of those strange books?”

Straight to the point, Alphonse thought. She really wasn't the type to mince words. It was difficult to tell if her restrained posture and typical brevity were a deliberate contrast.

“Yes,” Alphonse answered without hesitation.

He figured she'd piece the theory together on her own, and it made this discussion his biggest gamble. The information he revealed at the meeting with everyone else paled in comparison to the risk he was taking with Ash.

Being alone with her seemed to incite the missing word that he needed to describe his feelings towards her. Alphonse found himself staring somewhere distant again, like a setting that one might only see in a dream – a moment in a far place that he hoped for, where he saw himself standing behind her. They were on the same plane, but she was far beyond him in almost every aspect.

Ash was his inspiration – what he so desperately wanted to become.

“And what is True Equivalence?” Ash asked. This time she locked eyes with him.

“I don't know.” Alphonse found that his mind was clear when he answered.

The fox woman held his gaze. He didn't back down, and he didn't need to force any truths. He understood the deals of equivalence; he viewed them as evil and parasitic, something that hid under a guise of altruism. But he had never heard of what the spellcaster mentioned.

The powerful spellcaster was either being purposefully cryptic or thought that Alphonse knew about True Equivalence. If it was the former, then Alphonse figured that the spellcaster was planting a small seed of curiosity that would lead him down a predetermined path. If it was the latter, then the spellcaster's mention of Rinka in conjunction meant that she was keeping information from him – which might also be intended to instill doubt about her intentions. He figured that the catgirl mother had an adequate reason for keeping him in the dark, much like how he couldn't divulge everything to his comrades.

“I remember what you said at the plaza,” Ash said. “You really don't need it? These 'deals' must be powerful.”

Perception is only useful if the person knows how to interpret what is presented, Alphonse thought. “I think those deals he mentioned could turn me into something I'm not.” He paced to the side, his footfalls muted by the carpet. He rested a hand on the table and instinctively faced the door. “I will never use it that way ever again. I'm afraid that I'll lose everything I've worked for.”

There was a slight pause, and Alphonse noticed the almost imperceptible twitch of Ash's eye as she interpreted his specific word choice. She was also purposefully disrupting the pace of the conversation. She adroitly shifted from concise questions to deliberate pauses, along with flowing language and subtle movements in posture.

She didn't broach the previous line of questioning, much to Alphonse's relief.

“That isn't all,” Ash said. “I remember something else the spellcaster said.”

Alphonse felt the brief relief twist over as dread built in his stomach.

“I'll admit, I'm curious about this so-called contract of yours,” Ash continued. “But that is merely curiosity – not concern. Honestly, I don't care if you give all the details. What I do care about is the betrayal he mentioned, and his exact words following it, 'do not choose death over losing others.'”

Alphonse involuntarily flinched, despite attempting to mentally prepare himself. Her tone was almost accusatory.

“I don't forget specifics like that so easily,” Ash said. She recited some of the words uttered by the spellcaster, “'Hinder yourself? Unity?' And all for the 'greater benefit to those around you.'

“Perhaps you gave Kirie and Asa something with this contract. They're the only ones you would trust enough. Whatever it was, you did it to make them stronger. 'Do not choose death over losing others,'” she repeated.

Alphonse removed his hand from the table and flexed his fingers in a poor attempt to calm himself. Her deductive reasoning was beyond his expectations. How she managed to hone in on this particular conclusion amongst many was beyond his understanding. It was further proof of her abilities. Alphonse wondered if he should just concede now or try to come up with some other line of reasoning to throw her off.

Shit. She got me, Alphonse thought.

“I'll take your silence as confirmation,” Ash said. She didn't show a trace of satisfaction.

“You've done a fine job hiding your secret.” She joined him at the table, propped her healthy arm behind her and leaned away from him as she sat against it. “But you should know that I also took drastic measures in the past. With the information you've provided, I can make outstanding claims and see them within many realms of possibility. I'm willing to bet you only viewed this discussion as a necessary risk.”

Alphonse could only shrug in response. Her reasoning was too sound. He forced himself to remain as still as possible when he took a breath. He always took careful steps to ensure that he never underestimated anyone; it was better to overestimate in some cases, especially with someone like Ash.

“You did it to make your party stronger,” Ash affirmed. She feigned a dismissive gesture with the wave of her hand. “That makes sense. But there is another reason: you'd rather die than lose anyone else. That's why you were so willing to give up something that could help preserve your life.” She glared at him. “Tell me I'm wrong.”

Alphonse stared at the dark surface of the table. What she referred to was something that he hadn't been willing to admit to himself back then. During his time at the Submerged Oasis, when Rinka had provided him with another option, there was always a second possibility tapping insistently at the back of his mind. Yes, he wanted to make his party stronger as a whole. Even with the loss of his mana pool, if they worked as a single unit with all of them improving their specialties, then they had a better chance of success and, most of all, survival.

He'd accepted the contract during a time when he didn't trust anyone. There were many parts that influenced his decision, and some of them he used to deceive himself. He did it out of gratitude after they saved him, but it was also the perfect excuse. He viewed it as another chance to be happy and trust others again. It seemed like the best option to become the hunter rather than the survivor.

When Kirie and Asa became more to him than just comrades, it was almost comforting to know that he would likely be the first to go. He would never know the sick feeling of betrayal again, and he would never experience the relentless despair of losing someone – because he would be the one who died. The least he could do was leave the opportunity for happiness to Kirie and Asa when he passed on...

Alphonse's vision blurred as his head whipped to the side. The sudden, stinging pain on his cheek took some time to register. Even with his perception, he didn't see it coming.

He raised a hand as the tingling sensation flared on his cheek. He slowly turned and saw Ash with her hand raised. Her neutral countenance didn't shift, but he could see her hand trembling ever so slightly.

“Do you still think that?” Ash asked. She didn't move away. Instead, she moved even closer, as if she were ready to smack him again. “You still think it's better to die before us? Is that also why you were so ready to jump in when we fought Bejhkara? You think it would be okay to die as long as everyone else survived?”

“I-” Alphonse started.

Ash raised a finger and silenced him. “No...no, I get it.” She lowered her arm and seemed to deflate, like she had just finished a long run on a cold day, and the warmth was gone and the high of adrenaline dwindled to nothing. A shiver coursed through her, and she hugged her one healthy arm to her chest.

“Yeah...yeah, I get it. No need to explain yourself. I was the same way,” Ash said. She rested her hand back on the table. “There is always a part of us that wants to give up, and we hide it under some noble excuse. Sometimes, we just get so damned tired of life's bullshit. But we need to suppress it at all costs – for the people around us if we can't do it for ourselves.”

Alphonse stood frozen in place as Ash continued muttering to herself. It was almost as if she forgot he was in the room at all.

Ash shook her head as she seemed to catch herself rambling. She frowned at the spot on his cheek where she'd slapped him. “Shit, I didn't mean to hit you that hard. Sorry.”

Alphonse poked at his reddening cheek and barely felt the sting anymore. He shrugged again. “Probably a good thing. It woke me up, that's for sure.”

She made a weak smile. “Well, now I know how my old teacher felt. He slapped me for the same reason. That's why I could tell.”

“Your teacher?” Alphonse asked.

“Don't worry about it.”

He was about to press her further, but he forced his curiosity down when he realized it was probably something too personal.

“So, where do you stand now?” Alphonse asked.

Ash tapped a finger on her arm and stared at the ceiling as she pretended to think about it. “Right now, I'm content to stay where I am. I have to admit, your honesty was...refreshing.”

Alphonse's mouth parted slightly when Ash extended her hand towards him. At first, he wasn't sure what the gesture meant, but something about the way she held her hand out seemed familiar.

Wait... he thought. He remembered when they first met at her tea shop in the demihuman district. Back then, she was pretty standoffish when it came to greetings.

Alphonse allowed himself a wry grin as he stared at her hand. He made no indication of accepting it. He was rather pleased with himself when Ash's lips notably tightened into what might've passed as a pout.

Ash sighed when she caught on to his teasing silence. “Fine. Guess I owe you that much.”

Alphonse feigned a look of surprise. “That's true. And, by the way, that's the second time you've smacked me.”

Her brow furrowed, and the slight clenching of her fingers dared him to speak again.

Alphonse decided to oblige her, knowing that he shouldn't push his luck. He did his best to ignore the uncomfortable shifting of her feet on the carpet. Seeing her so emotionally vulnerable was a rare sight.

Ash relaxed a bit and made her gesture a little more inviting as she raised her arm. The small smile on her face made it genuine this time as she said, “My tea shop is always open to you, Evan-McCarthy.”

Alphonse didn't let the deliberate emphasis of her last words faze him. He grasped her hand in his. It was the same as the first time they met. No motion, just the tightening of their grip was enough. Alphonse looked at their joined hands and nodded his approval.

“Not bad,” he said. “You should use a similar greeting for your customers.”

Ash scoffed, “Not a chance.”