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Nights were a little less cold in Amestris than they had been in Ishval, but that didn’t make them comfortable. Holding his hands out towards the flames did help, a little, but not enough. There was only so much an open fire could do when you were sleeping in an alley, after all.
Perhaps the cold was why Mei could not sleep. She stirred for the fifth time that night, and Xiao Mei finally rolled out of the crook of her neck, briefly looking around as if confused, before gently biting her nose.
“Xiao Mei!” Mei hissed. “Didn’t I say no biting?”
In response, Xiao Mei bit her again. Mei yelped, covering her nose. Scar couldn’t suppress a snort.
“Mr. Scar?” Mei sat up, moving closer to the fire. Xiao Mei tried to crawl up her legs, only to be violently flown off it as Mei started bouncing her leg. “Why are you awake?”
“Why are you?” Scar replied, watching little Xiao Mei grumpily settle next to Mei, close to the fire.
Mei shrugged, tugging the blanket tighter around her. “I couldn’t sleep.” The bouncing became more rapid, and Mei hit her knee with her fist every time it rose. “I’m used to sleeping with my family. It’s just lonely here, you know?”
He did know. Unbidden, memories of Ishval came back; curled up against his aunt, uncle, and grandmother at night, his brother sleeping in his arms, waking to the bustling of kitchenware in the morning. After their parents had just died, their uncle had let them sleep on top of him for weeks, even if he had trouble breathing from their combined weight on his chest. He remembered listening to his steady breathing, his brother squeezing him tight when he’d had a nightmare, his aunt playing with his hair, his grandmother patting his head when he woke up. None of them were alive anymore, but it was almost like he could feel the ghosts of fingers, his chest tightening as if it was his brother sleeping on him.
He rubbed the small patch between his thumb and index finger and tried to banish those phantoms. Mei was staring at him, and belatedly, he remembered to nod.
“And besides,” she continued, waving the blanket. “This is so light! How am I supposed to sleep under it?”
Scar cocked his head. “Light?”
“Yeah!” She waved her hands through the air. “Light! I need things to be heavy! So my granny made me a special blanket that we filled with rice, and it was so nice and weighty, but this is just - a piece of cloth!”
Huh. “How did she make that blanket?”
“Uhm,” Mei touched her chin. “I think she made tiny little squares and she then filled them up with rice? We had to replace the rice pretty often, though, because it kept molding and stuff.”
Mei yawned, and curled up into herself. The fire cast deep shadows under her eyes. She looked so small. “I miss home.”
Scar tapped his knees. “How long?”
“Hm?”
“How long has it been since you slept well?”
He hadn’t seen her sleep through the night since she’d joined her group. He’d know. He’d been awake too.
Mei chewed on her finger. “Maybe... since halfway in the desert? Not sure, honestly.”
That was way too long. A girl like Mei needed her sleep.
“Try to go to bed.”
Mei grimaced, but didn’t protest as she laid down and pulled the blanket over her head. Xiao Mei crawled under it to join her.
It was hours before she fell asleep.
Scar knew how to sew. His grandmother had insisted on teaching him and his brother, despite both of their protests. Luckily for him, his brother had been a natural at it, just like he’d been a natural at drawing, his nimble fingers deftly working the needle. Scar’s own fingers did not cooperate that well; he’d never had much talent for fine work, be it drawing, writing, or sewing. But, he did know how to do it, at least in theory.
So it wasn’t that hard to buy the supplies at the market. The needle and thread were easily found and bought, but he dallied at the fabric stalls.
Beautiful cloth rolls littered the wood in a rainbow of colours. Amestrians seemed to favor lighter colours, baby blues and lilacs dominating many of the stands. Naturally, Scar gravitated more towards the warm, earthly browns and reds that had been favoured in Ishval. None of the patterns sold here were even half as intricate as those in Ishval, most of the fabric only one simple colour.
From the corner of his eye, he saw some people touching the fabric, likely to test the quality. Carefully, he mimicked their movements, although he never did learn how to distinguish well-made cloth from amateur. But it was an excuse to pet the fabric, which was absolutely necessary. He let the materials slide between his fingers, pulling away when he felt coarse threads beneath his skin.
Finally, he lingered on one roll of fabric, a cloth with a simple diamond pattern in different, subdued shades of red. Although they were not as bright as what would have been used in Ishval, the colours reminded him off the desert, of the sand and the sunset. It was soft, too, much softer than any other he’d felt thus far. He kept playing with it, rolling the smooth fabric across his palm as if in a trance. He barely heard the vendor clearing her throat.
“Are you gonna buy that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Quickly, he let go and nodded. For a moment after, he froze, unsure how much fabric he needed, so he bought as much as he could reasonably afford.
After that, the rest of the shopping went quick. He dithered a bit at the bean stand, wondering if he should go for rice instead, but in the end, he went with his instincts. Rice might have been proven to be effective, but it also sounded incredibly difficult to work with, and he wasn’t that good at this to begin with.
So with a bag of beans, sewing supplies, and a large slab of cloth, he made his way over to the city slums again.
As expected, actually sewing the blanket was a lot harder. It took days of trial and error, frequently removing stitches or re-stitching areas that had broken. Sewing the squares closed after he put in the beans was by far the most difficult part; they kept falling out, forcing Scar to run after them and making the whole affair take twice as long as it should.
But finally, it was done. Held together by amateur stitches or not, it did hold together, and in the end, that’s all that mattered. It was larger than he’d expected, large enough to envelop Mei three times easy, but the weight was perfect. Scar balanced it on his arm for a good long while, feeling the way it dragged him to the ground, slowly bouncing it up and down, until he abruptly remembered that he needed to get back to the camp.
Hopefully, at least one of them would sleep well tonight.
“Here.”
Perched high on Mei’s shoulder, Xiao Mei watched him as suspiciously as a panda could, but at least she’d gotten past trying to bite him. Mei ignored her panda, blinking in surprise as he held out the blanket.
“Is that -?” she touched the cloth, and he slowly deposited all of it into her arms. For a moment, she just bounced it up and down, just like he’d done. Then, she broke into a smile.
“Did you make this?” she asked, giddily rubbing the fabric. Xiao Mei sniffed at it before deeming it acceptable and curling up on top of it.
Scar nodded. “You had trouble sleeping.”
Before he realized what was happening, Mei had flung herself into his arms. Xiao Mei screeched as she and the blanket dropped onto the floor. “Thank you!” Mei squeaked. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!”
Scar froze, looking down at Mei with something like panic swelling in his chest. Did he hug her back? Should he not? But before he could decide, she’d already let go, and was running over to the blanket, flapping her hands the whole way.
“It’s big!” she exclaimed, as she held it out above her head, bouncing on her toes. Barely one third actually lifted off of the floor.
He grunted in acknowledgment.
“We should sleep under it together!” she announced happily, and Scar choked on nothing.
She stopped bouncing. “Do you not want to?”
She looked at him with those big, sad eyes, and the smile slowly started slipping off her face, and oh, Ishvalla help him.
He sighed. “Alright.”
This time, he was prepared for the armful of Mei he received. He even managed to hug her back for a few seconds. It was nice; kind of strange, hugging someone that much smaller than him, and for a moment, he understood how his aunt must have felt, when he was young and she hugged him tight against his chest. Mei was so small. He never wanted to let go.
But of course he did, and quickly. From her perch on the blanket, Xiao Mei seemed to judge him, but Mei herself smiled widely and ran off to show Yoki and Marcoh her new treasure.
That night, he slept underneath both the pleasant weight of the blanket and the little girl curled up on his chest. Mei snored softly, her breaths deep and steady.
Xiao Mei had curled herself up between Scar and Mei, and, satisfied that her owner was well, had fallen asleep herself. Scar reached out and cautiously pet her behind her ear. The fur was soft under his hands, softer even than the blanket, and Xiao Mei rumbled contently underneath his hand.
There was movement on his chest, and Mei rolled over. Before she could fall to the ground, he reached out to steady her. Carefully, he straightened her head, gently pushing her hair out of her face. Just as he was about to pull back, she nuzzled into his hand, keeping him in place.
She was warm and steady on top of him, and the weight grounded him, preventing his mind from drifting off to different times. Slowly but surely, he felt himself calm, until he was breathing in tandem with Mei.
For the first time since Ishval fell, he slept well.