I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Look at you

Look at you, sir, sitting there in that chair behind your desk. A Colonel already and only 29. They say you don't really care, sir; they say each thing you do is merely a means to an end. Maybe they're right.

When was the last time you helped someone without an ulterior motive? You are a master of exploiting situations, turning hay into gold, lemons into lemonade.

They say you don't care about the alchemists or soldiers under you. They say you don't care about Eastern. There were right, weren't they? You smiled at the thought of transferring to Central, closer to the hub of things.

They say you will do anything to rise in the ranks. You told Lieutenant Colonel Hughes that you couldn't afford to worry about the way to do things (though he said those who did not were the most dangerous). You're in too much of a hurry to get where you're going to worry about the morality of your actions.

They look at you and see a ruthless, ambitious soldier. I look at you and see a man. Yes, I know, it's dangerous to see you as that man. You don't want that man to be seen, because he is vulnerable, while the Flame Alchemist, with his uniform and gloves, is not. But I see him anyway.

I look at you and see a man who saw the horrors of Ishvar. I look at you and see a man who is too foolish to leave his subordinates behind. I look at you and see a man who does use each assignment he is given as a stepping stone – a man who even withholds help in the interests of not seeming radical (or insubordinate, God forbid), for the sake of reputation. Because once you reach the top you will be able to help everyone, at all levels, without hindrance.

That is who I see when I look at you. I just have to remind you to look at yourself that way too.