Hey there folks! I've decided to take on this story mainly because I felt like I should, and could, give the FMA fiction section some sort of story that it hasn't had before.

Before the chapter starts, I'd like to address a few important things:

-No, this is not the story I am collecting data for on my account page, that is for a completely different story that has not yet been published.

-This is NOT a copy of marmaroth's Sinheart or reSinheart, for that matter. I intend to finish this story all the way and I do not in any way want to copy the way their story progresses. On a personal note, I don't think I'll find myself referring to that work either way because I rather dislike the way their OC was characterized and didn't appreciate the lack of pragmatism in the main character. I don't intend to 'fix' that here, but I definitely do not want to copy anything from their story.

-I will most likely update this on a 3-4 week basis, releasing similarly sized chapters. If I do not publish at that time, it's safe to assume that I have entered a period of testing at my schooling or another time-consuming activity. There shouldn't be a scenario where this story is ever abandoned.

-There will be no responses to reviews unless requested. Expect a response through PM if you ask for it, but only ask if it is important and/or belongs in the FAQ.

-This will most likely be cross-posted on AO3, even though I know there's not much of a crowd there for OCs.

-Also for those new to my writing, I do not make unnecessary or non-canon ships, so please don't worry about my pairing random folks with other random folks. I don't roll like that... folks.

Quick Disclaimer: I do not own any character from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood or Fullmetal Alchemist, only the OC inserted and the changes in plot applied.

Warnings: (Somewhat) descriptive birth/pregnancy (don't take that in a sexual direction), child neglect, domestic abuse, and domestic violence.

Also, if you find a symbol like this "(#)" in the reading, there is an index at the end of the chapter referring to each number referenced. I did my research for this fiction, so if you're confused about a Chinese custom, please refer to there.

Enjoy!

"Each night, when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn."

~Mahatma Gandhi

It was quiet, eerily quiet. The near-silent ticking of a clock hummed continuously as the seconds crept forward, inch by inch.

He felt squeezed, and not in a way that a mother would cling to her young child or the way that soft blankets tucked under one's stomach. No, this sensation was awkward, uneasy. It was all numb, and his legs and arms were bent in unimaginable positions that he could not see with his eyes clamped shut.

Never in his life had the boy felt this way, unable to do a single thing. There wasn't even the natural rise and sinking of the stomach as he breathed; he was not breathing. A brief moment of panic overtook him, as he desperately, yet feebly, attempted to grasp his throat and force air through it. The hapless efforts to breathe only increased his panic, until he had finally accepted that despite the odd sensation of not breathing, he was still somehow alive.

Retracting somehow smaller hands from his throat, he heard the muffled sounds of cooing. A female's voice droned on in the background as if she were muffled by a wall. The coos were serene and foreign to him, as the woman's voice was speaking nonsense to his ears. His hands drifted around as he tried to move again, but the air was stifling and moving was as difficult as swimming in pudding.

Since he could not open eyes, for all he knew, he was swimming in pudding. Struggling a bit more, one of his limbs rubbed against his stomach, and his arm hit another object in close proximity. At first, the shock of the blow against his stomach was almost stunning, paralyzing his entire body for a short while. It did not take long to notice after moving again that there was something attached to his stomach.

He quickly recoiled in horror at the recognition of the rope-like thing attached to where his belly button should be. Before he could try to squirm again, another limb, which he knew was not his, struck his elbow.

More pain shot through his arm, as he desperately attempted to move, or swim, away from the cause of his suffering. He did not understand what was happening, he could not even see what was happening. Only the soft lulling sounds of the woman's voice and the ever-ticking clock could comfort him.

He waited in this hellish keep for months.

He remembered every ticking second until his birth.

Being born, the boy learned, was not a pleasant affair.

The screaming of both his mother and himself was deafening to his newborn ears, his motor skills were far less than par, and his memories did not dissipate, no matter how unnatural it was to remember one's previous life when entering the next one.

He quickly learned that there was no fighting the natural urges that came with being a newborn, as there was no way to survive other than to depend on his mother. The moment the doctor, perhaps midwife since there was no signature beep of a heart monitor, handed him to his mother, a sense of comfort washed over his disgustingly fragile body.

"Such a beautiful boy," she said between pants, snuggling the child closer to her sweaty, labored body. The boy couldn't understand a word she spoke, it sounded somewhat like Chinese to him, but the moment his mother spoke, he fell quiet and grasped her hand. Once he found the poor woman's fingers, he squeezed them tight and began to suckle upon them, which incited a soft chuckle from her. She let him suckle for a short while, before finally speaking again, "He shall be named 'Shu' (1). He will be the roots that hold the Yao Clan together, but he will grow to great heights."

The newly named Shu was held for a short while longer until his mother suddenly emitted a series of groans and cries. Shu was snatched out of his mother's embrace, instinctively beginning to screech as soon as he was lifted off. Another set of arms attempted to cradle him, but he could not be appeased.

The newborn reincarnate continued to squawk and cry as his mother abruptly went back into labor. The feminine screams came back, this time stronger and more disdainful. The painful howls persisted for what seemed like hours to Shu, his mother's suffering agitating him greatly. He wrestled with his holder but was unable to do anything to help the anguished mother. His eyes stung from the endless tears and he ached with pity, desperately and instinctively wanting to return to his creator.

Only twenty minutes after his own birth did his brother come into existence.

The child was named Ling, and both newborns were held tightly by their mother as if they would suddenly disappear into thin air.

Shu was only thirty minutes old when he was given the first sign that something was not normal about the circumstances of his birth.

He smiled the moment he entered his mother's grasp, even though the reaction was unwanted.

Growing up, Shu decided, was quite an easy affair. Especially when one has grown up before.

In addition, he had the privilege of being born into a noble family on his side. It didn't take much energy to notice, Shu figured it out the moment he gained his sight. He was constantly surrounded by foreign people, presumably Chinese going along with the language, that took care of his every need on a whim. Servants would hoist him and his brother around everywhere and anywhere. As long as he and Ling were happy, the servants would be too.

At least, that's the way the staff made it seem to the two boys.

Shu grew to love one of his caretakers, in particular, an older man by the name of Fu. Fu was not simply just their caretaker, but also the family bodyguard that followed the two boys everywhere they went. The older man would supply both he and Ling with heaps of tales about various wars and battles. Fu could not be seen without a scabbard tied to his back, which was another odd thing.

It became apparent over time that the way he lived was rather primitive, especially when their family bodyguard carried a sword and not a gun, as an example. Shu tried his best to notice small details about his large family home, and all of the evidence pointed towards a lack of technological advancement. Shu simply assumed that his family either rejected technology, as many (2) Chinese folk did when Europeans attempted to industrialize the large nation, or that he was born at another time. At that point, it did not seem too odd to assume such a thing since he had been reincarnated.

Fu later told him that his family name was Yao. The name struck a chord with the boy, but it didn't seem to ring a bell at the time.

Shu realized that he hadn't met his father when he was of two years. It hadn't been that big of a deal to him at first, he barely even saw his mother during the week, but he eventually found it odd that the man hadn't been in sight once. Ling did not seem irked by it, but it definitely began flipping some switches in Shu's head.

Only a month after Shu realized his father's absence did he receive the chance to meet the man.

Shu was only two years old when he was invited to visit the Emperor's palace.

The trip to the Emperor's palace was grueling, almost a week went by while Shu, Ling, and surprisingly, his mother endured the journey on a rickety, almost untrustworthy, carriage. The boy, although subconsciously aware that his mother would be going, did not actually expect the woman to accompany them. After all, he and his brother were deprived of motherly attention and care. The reincarnate thought that there were familial or political reasons behind her decision to grow distant, but Ling, as any child would, remained rather confused and upset with the absence.

Unfortunately for the poor woman, her conscious absence ultimately led to Ling clinging to her the moment she reappeared in their lives. Shu was rather detached from the concept of familial bonds, especially when it felt like a betrayal to suddenly adopt another as one's mother, so he kept a rather shy exterior. It was for the sake of his own self-induced dignity and loyalty that he did not speak a word to his mother the whole time, constantly itching at the thought of abandoning everything he'd ever known.

He kept stewing in his own conservatism throughout the five-day ride, opting to continue to sink into his own thoughts than address his less than savory thoughts towards the woman. He found himself unable to see through the curtains of the carriage due to "safety issues" that Fu had been attempting to explain to the two brothers. It seemed that even though the man was not in the carriage with them, he somehow managed to follow them regardless. Whenever a question was asked, his voice would sound, booming into the small vehicle.

Nonetheless, the entire affair was uncomfortably stuffy, hot, and most of all, rickety. The wooden cage they had been riding in for days was damp-smelling, the old cherry-wood used to construct it, although beautiful in color, was clearly beginning to show its years. Every time the vehicle hit the slightest bump, the wood groaned and the family of three grunted synonymously as they rose into the air, consequently smacking back onto their rumps.

Never had Shu's appreciation for modern technology been greater.

The moment the caravan of nobles arrived at their destination, possibly the Forbidden Palace if he were in China as he suspected, the doors to their carriage were forced open by a scruffy, long-faced man who seemed to have an excess of facial hair. Whatever expression that the man had on before, Shu noticed a bit of a smirk beforehand, was glossed over by a new, generic smile that seemed to scream that his act was a sham.

"Ah, please," the bizarre man gestured, exaggerating a bow and deepening the fake smile. Everything about this man seemed to get more and more suspicious, or sad, by the second, "It is an honor to have one of the (3) wives of the Great Emperor and her children."

Shu, despite being a reincarnate, was still at the tender age of two. Thus, his understanding of what the man said was almost none to zero. Shu silently cursed his limited vocabulary and moved on.

To Shu's utter surprise, his mother strode past the man who had kindly addressed them, taking both he and Ling by the hand and dragging them out of their wooden prison. The moment they stepped out of the vehicle, Shu's field of view widened to reveal a swarm of masked guards hovering about the sides of the vehicle. Shu scanned through the crowd but failed to find Fu in it, no matter how closely he looked.

The scruffy man didn't seem to be offended by his mother's reaction, or lack of reaction in this case, and proceeded to walk to the side of the three nobles, "Ah, I will lead your majesties to the courtyard. I hear from the gardeners that the water lilies are blooming as of late. Perhaps it is a symbol of the Heavens smiling down upon us for welcoming the God Emperor's spawn." (4)

Shu quietly walked, partly listening to the incomprehensible, yet intense, babbling of the man, and partly pondering the reasoning behind his mother's reaction. He couldn't understand why his mother refused to return the bow to the polite guide. Curiosity tickled at his brain, but he couldn't muster up the courage to ask the question stirring in his mind.

What has made you so bitter, Yao?

The bearded, strange man led them to the courtyard and promptly left after the realization struck him that perhaps Shu's mother did not want him accompanying them. He opted for leaving the courtyard while his dignity was still intact, muttering a nearly deaf "Apologies" on his way out of the awkward situation.

Immediately upon entering the red-gold gates that led to the courtyard, Shu absorbed the nature that boomed within the regal courtyard. The rush of water loomed on in the background while the various assortments of chirps from birds crowned the ambiance. Cobblestone paths bordered well-kept grasses and plants, some of which were in vibrant orange and blue hues. Various animals roamed freely within the gated courtyard, ranging from stray male peacocks that strutted with dignity to a few pandas munching lazily on the native bamboo stalks.

The instant that Ling caught sight of the peacocks, the fellow two-year-old broke from their mother's grasp and began to chase them and attempt to catch them. Of course, the boy failed, but he became so intensely focused on catching the small, feathered beasts that he ran out of Shu's line of sight.

Instead of scream or yell or even complain like a normal mother would do, Shu's mother just followed after his brother, her face etched into an expression of neutrality that could not have been natural. No, Shu began to theorize, it had to have been a product of her efforts. Even under the white makeup (5) that Chinese society pressured all women to wear for beauty, his mother still seemed upset, as though she were furious with the world itself. Or maybe, miserable in it.

Despite his unrest, Shu grasped the woman's fingers with renewed vigor. It seemed as though the further he picked at her, the more he began to pity her ways. In a brief moment of empathy, Shu broke away from her grasp only to pick up one of the water lilies he had picked out from the moment they entered the grand, nature-infused courtyard. With delicacy, he carefully plucked the lily pad that rested underneath the flower and placed it back into the pond that held it. He held the flower by the stem and ran with caution towards his mother.

His two-year-old legs were weak, and by the time he had arrived at his mother's side, he was already panting from exhaustion. Still, under the rush of adrenaline from the run, he shoved the flower towards her and silently urged her to take it.

The flower itself was not quite unique, as it was licked at the edges with purple and had a whitish-yellow center as all of the flowers did, but it was the nature of the gift itself that gave the flower leagues more meaning.

Shu's birth mother, with a straight spine and poised expression, bent down slightly to pluck the flower from his clutches. She mechanically dusted the lily and shook it out in case of any stray bugs or water hiding inside. The woman fastened the natural charm to her hair, without so much as a smile. A trained "thank you" rung out and that was it.

Shu wondered how one could live so.

As requested by his mother, Shu's smaller brother was caught by the guards and was reluctantly forced to return to the waiting pair. Ling bounded back towards Shu and their mother, clutching her dearly while chuckling between breaths.

The small ball of sunshine continued to exhibit his childlike innocence and playfulness non-stop, which was rather refreshing to Shu but also tiring. Especially when they were destined to meet with the powerful ruler of China.

The three were left to explore the buzzing courtyard for an ample amount of time, this time without Ling escaping from the group. The trip was mostly silent, with the exception of Ling's frequent and frankly, adorable comments. Shu appreciated the commentary, but he himself was not fond of interacting with strangers.

However, their family bonding, if absolute silence could even be called that, was cut short by the same scruffy man from earlier asking for the three to follow him. He claimed it was under the command of his majesty and that there were no options other than to do as the man said.

They walked quietly, even more so than before. All four of them trekked through the regal and ginormous halls in hushed steps. The man suddenly halted himself in front of a painstakingly detailed door with dragons inscribed on both sides of the entrance. He bowed quickly, pushed open the grand doors, and scurried away, deathly afraid of the Emperor's wrath.

As the majestic doors slowly swung open, a man in gold-painted, silken garbs strode through. His eyes were trained on Shu, Ling, and their mother. Oddly enough, the man's expression reminded Shu of a cat: passive-aggressive and seemingly upset all of the time. Hell, he even had the whisker-like mustache to match it.

The regal man's steps ceased as he stopped in front of the three, waiting as if he were expecting something. Shu quickly realized what it was and fell into a deep bow. The man's gaze fell upon him, boring into the back of his skull as he kept his eyes trained on the ground.

"Very good." were the only words uttered from the upright man, "A perfect son respects his father so."

His mother followed in a rigid, almost forced bow. Ling didn't seem to understand why everyone was doing the odd movement, but he proceeded to copy his mother and brother regardless.

"I will have tea prepared by the servants. Join me." the man said, no, commanded of the three nobles.

Shu felt uncomfortable with the idea that this man was their father. Although he had, at one point, desired to meet his sire, he didn't intend for it to somehow lead to him realizing he was royalty. The revelation was unsettling and personally, he didn't want such a connection if the Emperor himself was such a crabby old man.

He had difficulty holding in a shudder. Especially when the man who made him was a crabby old man.

Nonetheless, he managed to pull on a straight face and followed the Emperor with a bittersweet sense of seriousness. He wasn't quite sure whether or not such a stern mask was necessary, but he put it on just in case the man had something against children being as children normally are.

The imperial Sir walked with dignity into a large room with an open entrance adorned with a large, mahogany table with silk-woven seat cushions on the floor. Ling made a move to sit down on one of the cushions but their mother pulled him back in a flurry of panic while the Emperor just stared at the young boy. For a brief moment, Shu caught onto a silent conversation between his mother and father. The man finally raised his hand in a stopping motion and proceeded to sit down first, at the head of the elegant table.

The Emperor settled down onto the sleek mat, placing his arms on his knees and sitting with an upright spine. It was almost as if the man were trying to seem taller, more intimidating.

He ushered for the three family members to sit with him, Ling and Shu still lost on the exchange between the husband and wife. Shu settled onto the mat quickly, making sure to stay on his father's good side rather than leave bad impressions.

"Which of them is the eldest?" their father asked, getting to the point with as little time as possible.

"That would be this one, Shu, Sir," his mother pointed to him, answering with a scary amount of subservience. She had little to no bite left in her, even though she had put herself above the people who brought them here. It seemed odd to Shu that she would accept such a dominant relationship so easily…

"Ah, the polite one. Very good, appealing to his father as an heir in the first moment," the man frowned deeply for a short moment and opened his mouth, "Why bring the second one if he isn't the heir? Only the elder child is of importance in any clan."

"He is your son, my beloved." Shu's mother replied, quietly sitting with her palms on her thighs. She didn't seem to want to aggravate the man too greatly.

"And yet, I did not ask for the child. I only requested the presence of my wife and her eldest child, not a scrambler for the throne!" despite his mother's attempts, the Emperor started to fume with a silent fury unknown to Ling, but oh so familiar to Shu and his mother.

In a flash of ferocity, a sound slap resounded through the room. Shu's eyes darted up from the ground, immediately noticing the skin beginning to blotch around the hand connected to his mother's frail face. The Emperor slowly drew back the appendage, shaking it free of whatever had dared touch him, and he promptly walked away without so much as a word.

The moment the man shuffled out of the room, Ling, who had been hiding from the scene underneath the table, peeked out to find the same gruesome sight that Shu had seen on their mother's face. The boy dashed to his mother, squeezing her tightly and beginning to sob into her dress.

As she began to break down for the first time, Shu could only stare at the heap of human mess in front of him. She clutched onto Ling greedily, grasping at any chance for human affection as any normal person would do. Shu's preconceived notions about her began to fade away as he continued to stand by and watch the pathetic scene. He took the time to notice the way her hands were frail and lifeless as if they were to disappear from disuse, and how her foot seemed bent in the wrong spot (6), how her white makeup was washing away to show a tired, beseeching face.

Somehow, something clicked within Shu, and he couldn't stand to keep on like this any longer. Slowly walking towards the person he once thought he could never call 'mother', he took one glance at her eyes and saw a whole different world than what she had revealed earlier.

With vigor, he embraced his mother. Those eyes… they were not ones of arrogance or privilege.

No, they were those of a prisoner.

He snuggled deeper into her bosom as she began to return the affection, squeezing him tighter with his brother. They all remained like this for what seemed like an eternity, a bittersweet one.

Shu realized that, through his parent's bold and defining actions, that he was either destined to become the monster his father was or the slave that his mother is, under the control of his sire.

No matter what he did, Shu understood, he was born in inescapable, adamantine chains.

(1). Shu, written as '树' in the Chinese alphabet, directly translates to 'tree'. Although, sometimes it can be interpreted as 'book' in English without the provision of the Chinese character.

(2). The Chinese, during the 19th Century, were encouraged by particularly the British to industrialize and/or buy goods from industrialized countries. The Chinese refused, believing that any and all manufactured goods were 'playthings' that were of no use to the Chinese. It is important to note that the Chinese were extremely xenophobic at this time.

(3). It was common for the Chinese Emperors to have concubines or multiple wives. Of course, there was one "head" concubine that held more power above all, but this particular detail may not apply to Xing. Regardless, the Emperor of Brotherhood is known for having multiple wives and dozens of children with said wives.

(4). During Chinese isolation, the Chinese Emperors would claim that they have the "Mandate of Heaven". This Mandate is essentially the claim that the Heavens have bestowed upon the right to rule to an Emperor as a birthright. This is why Emperors were viewed as Gods among men and were treated with the utmost care.

(5). The reasoning behind 'white makeup' is actually a little odd, maybe even racist? Regardless, the Chinese considered people who have paler skin to be more beautiful. I personally don't understand the logic behind their perception of beauty, but this was the norm during that time for women who could afford to be in wealthy families.

(6). Bent foot, in this situation, refers to a practice that was done in Ancient up to 1800's China called Foot Binding. This was done to shorten the length of women's feet to a small, bone-breaking size. This was usually restricted to the rich women and was done to enhance 'beauty' and a woman's reliance on their husbands, as this binding essentially disabled them for life.

I hope you enjoyed the pilot! I don't believe in the "Don't like, don't read rule", so please leave your criticism in a review, even if you despised this. I accept all criticism, good and bad.

Thank you for reading, and I hope to upload the second chapter soon!