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[It's a traditional (ish) style Japanese tea shop. Not that Itachi's Japanese but all it takes is a little homework and the realization that the manners and customs are incredibly close to those of the Fire Country, add in enough Westernization to appeal to Londoners, and the business is doing well.]

[Of course for those who are in the know the tea shop is a front for a much more interesting business of information dealing and, rumor has it, assassination--or any kind of underground contract you might wish to procure.]

[But on the surface and at least in part it's a fairly popular "Oriental" novelty tea shop. The proprietor is rather young and quiet and strange, but the ladies he hires who do most of the serving and dealing with customers are quite charming. All in all, it's growing in reputation.]

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[Should he keep teasing him? Perhaps. A bit. Itachi's happy to see Al, in one sense. In another, this place, while civilized and easier to survive in, in a way, may be even worse than that ruined city on the edge of the end of time.]

[So, continued blank expression it is.]

Is this your first time in London?

[He keeps watching for anything that will give Itachi away, and finds nothing. Could he have been born here-? Was this this world's Itachi?

Al carefully looked around, taking in the decor. Very Fire Country... which isn't Japan at all. And Japan and London are not in the same world, as far as he knows.

The clues begin to fall into place.]

It is. But we're in London, England?

[Itachi just watches impassively. How long will it take Al? He could keep time and declare Al's record when he ends this charade. A possibility.]

That is correct.

[He stands still and serene, a proper proprietor, calm and polite.]

The city you speak of doesn't exist in this world. I surmise you are one of the outsiders that sometimes finds their way to London.

[And how would he know that? It dawns on him, that surety, and Al slowly smiles up at him. It makes his eyes look the same in that older face. Warm, bright, the young innocent he once was when they first met.

He slips the ring off his thumb -- his hand is tanned around it -- and holds it out, cupped in his palm so no one else will see what it is.]

I think it's time you had this back.

Fifty-seven seconds.

[He's being generous and not counting anything before the conversation started. Itachi removes his hands from his sleeves and places one over Al's hand. But he curls Al's fingers over the ring instead of taking it.]

It seems I don't need it here. Will you hold on to it for me a while longer, Alphonse-kun?

[There's a gentler tone in his voice as his expression unbends just a little. How many years must it have been for Al? Certainly more than it has been for Itachi. He looks at Al over his glasses. This close his creeping blindness doesn't blur the other man's features too much.]

Now how did you wander your way here? Did you crawl from the river or wake up on the street?

[He is hoping it's not the river, though there's no inflection in the tone of his question. Eventually Al is bound to learn those who are dead are dragged up from the river, but he has no interest in explaining the importance of the question right now.]

[Al laughs under his breath, eyes shining. Trust Itachi to make everything a test.]

If you'd like me to, I will.

[Even if this is a dream, it's a very kind one. It's been too long.]

I think I washed up on the shore of the river. I woke up half in it.

I would.

[Itachi takes his hand back to fold it in his sleeve once again. There is not much reaction on his face, save a slight downcast of the eyes at Al's answer.]

Hm. Step into the private tea room with me. I'll make you some matcha.

[And there they will not be bothered while Itachi explains this place to Al.]

Then I'll keep it safe.

[Al nods and gets to his feet, ready to follow. He's watching for anything else he can glean while they walk. Knowing Itachi, this isn't just a tea shop.]

[There's the main shop itself, quiet, peaceful atmosphere, tastefully decorated. The serving girls are all young and cute but if Al looks closer there's a certain way they hold themselves, an alertness to them. The clientele ranges from the young and in vogue to the more sedate and fashionable middle aged and well-to-do.]

[In the back the room Itachi shows Al into is not the only one of its type. Several are already occupied. The rooms themselves are made to imitate Japanese rooms, with tatami mats and wood and paper paneling. There's a covered wood walkway that connects and loops around a Japanese style garden. Itachi closes the door leading out to that, though, and fetches the instruments to prepare the matcha.]

[A room like this, soundproofed, Al might notice when the doors are closed, would make an excellent place to conduct delicate business.]

[Itachi kneels on the cushions in the center of the room, letting Al do as he likes as he whisks the tea.]

Your first question?

[Carefully, he takes it all in, filing it carefully away. There is a different way he holds himself. More wary, older. He's grown so much since Itachi saw him last, both in spirit and body. There are so many scars that Itachi won't recognize.]

Why did you ask whether I came from the street or the river?

[Itachi would never make small talk like that. There was a reason for that question.]

[He doesn't show how proud and pleased he is by Al's changes. By the observable difference in maturity and wariness. He simply finishes whisking the tea, sets Al's cup on the low table.]

The dead come from the river. Fished out like flotsam. The living arrive other ways.

[Still blunt.]

[Al shrugs his shoulders upward, giving him a tiny smile as he picks up the cup.]

At least it's not a surprise. Ah, thank you.

I would advise steering clear of the river from now on, however. The Deep Ones are aggressive and strong. And you may find your alchemy more difficult here.

[Just going to make himself a cup of tea.]

The Deep Ones?

[That's a bit disturbing to contemplate.]

[Taking a sip of tea, no biggie.]

The Eldritch horrors of this place. Mutations born of the contamination of this place altering humans, or children of the twisted monsters themselves.

[Taking another sip.]

The gods of this place are unlike the Animus. Just as mad, but far more pervasive. Perhaps you already feel their presence.

[Al looks up at him through his lashes while he sips his tea, then carefully sets down the cup.]

That would explain why I feel so on edge.

Yes. It would.

[He keeps his cup in his hands as he watches Al.]

Nightmares are inevitable. Other effects are not unheard of. There are drugs to combat the oppressive atmosphere, if you so wish.

[He doubts Al will be tempted by the pleasures of the honey dens, but he's not going to tell Al not to seek them. Al's an adult, he can make his own bad or good decisions. And honey is not necessarily the worst method of coping.]

Maybe if there's no other option.

[He's so used to living under stress these days. It will get worse, but he doesn't need to know that.]

Is there anyone I should watch out for?

Many.

[Itachi continues to sip his tea with all the calm, arrogant elegance he's always had.]

The churches of the Old Ones, the gods of this place, are varying degrees of dangerous. In the same manner, you should be wary of anything associated with them. They control the power of this world, and most of the magic. You may pursue that as a study if you wish, it is certainly an interesting subject.

[And he knows how Al's mind is ever inquisitive and thirsting for knowledge.]

The magic is connected to the Old Ones, and their madness taints it along with all else here.

The human trade is quite alive here. Do not be caught alone or undefended by strangers. The main streets and roads are relatively safe--back alleys and the river risk the potential of monsters, literal and figurative.

[Al carefully picks through the information, finding what he can come back to, what's important and what can be filed away.]

Exactly what types of monsters are we talking about?

Deep Ones wander from the river at times. Other monsters twisted by this world or the churches will escape to lurk in the shadows. Horrors are common here. In much the same way that it is unpredictable outside the safe zone in Adstringendum, if you wander from the main centers of activity you take your life into your hands here.

The human monsters are easier. Slave traders and head hunters, deranged maniacs driven over the edge by the madness here, or simply cultists seeking a convenient offering.

The veneer of civilization here is only that.

At least the human side of it is familiar. I'll be very careful.

[He pauses a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself.]

How long have you been here?

Nine months.

[Calmly he sets the tea down.]

I estimate about four years for you. Am I wrong?

Nearly. It's March 2012 in the city. It's been about three years since I last saw you.

... I'll be nineteen next month.

You've grown.

[and now he doesn't mean the obvious physical changes.]