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Knife


It had been a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Eyes across a crowded room, and all that jazz.

Well, to be honest, it hadn't so much been a crowded room as a busy butcher's shop.

It had been raining outside, though that didn't matter so much to Izumi, fresh from her training on the snow-covered slopes of that god-forsaken lump of ice and rock. She'd been hounded by frostbite, pneumonia, hypothermia and a particularly persistent grizzly bear since she'd first been left there, and now, back on civilised land, a little bit of rain wasn't going to make her run for shelter.

She'd elbowed her way into the shop, with a few well-placed kicks here and there to speed the way to the counter. Once there, casually wringing her mop of hair out, she'd ordered a few beef steaks, some mince, a couple of chicken breasts, before it dawned on her that this butcher was the biggest man she'd ever seen. "What's your name?" she inquired casually as he set out the beef to be minced by hand.

"Curtis," he'd rumbled as he began slicing the meat. Izumi scowled.

"You're doing it wrong," she said brusquely, slipping around the counter and snatching the heavy knife out of his hand. "You're supposed to hold the knife like this to slice cleanly through the flesh, the way you're holding it means it slips at the last second and you'll get an uneven slice of meat. That's a waste of good meat, you know. And what are you doing with the fat? Do you even know? No, neither do I. Now—"

Some might have been offended at this intruder sticking her nose into his profession, but Seig, instead, fell in love with her no-nonsense approach. Six months later, they were married.

Six years later, as Edward and Alphonse Elric would discover, she was still an expert with a knife.