Author's Note: Rating, tags, and warnings are for teenage shenanigans.

A note on canon character first names, and surnames: Not everyone has both in the manga or anime. I've taken the liberty of adding these names when I needed to. For example General Hakuro in canon doesn't have a first name listed in the FMA wiki, so I stole the first name of one of his voice actors. I've adopted the practice for anyone with a single name.

Fic writing is a labor of love, and hearing from readers makes my whole day.

Update 4/8/15: Tada! I've acquired a beta. No plot changes just a general polishing and cleaning up of my terrible comma-speak.


Headmaster King Bradley hated his job. He'd been walking the halls of Central Amestris Academy for nearly thirty years, and every day he crossed off another square on his calendar until his retirement with a begrudging sigh. He wasn't sure why he stayed on; his wife served him breakfast with a smile in the morning, and reminded him how much he'd enjoy the quieter life. Tenure was long behind him, and he certainly felt no affection for the students. Perhaps he simply hated the idea of that sentimental fool of a board member, Grumman, taking his place. Children in their teenage years needed discipline and a heavy hand. They couldn't be allowed to run around with their hormones flying about.

He sucked in a deep breath as he strode the nearly-empty corridors. The only students present at such an early hour were the over-achievers. He detested them as much as the slackers. Bradley often imagined he could actually smell their desperate endeavors like a cloying perfume. Extra effort could be expected from scholarship students such as Kain Furey, whose mother was nothing but a waitress, or Denny Brosch, who'd won his way in the prestigious doors with athletic prowess. But they weren't worth much. Not really.

It was the handful of students like the three Armstrong children, the youngest Hughes boy, and the Hawkeye girl that stood out. Now there was pedigree. Proven bloodlines and old money were what impressed Bradley. These were the cream of his crop, and he kept a closer eye on them than most. The Armstrong family had a glittering military history. They were strong, and displayed leadership in every activity they participated in. Especially Olivier. Maes Hughes was frighteningly smart, and a promising future was expected from his senator father. Riza Hawkeye's family dwindled in numbers, but Berthold Hawkeye's brilliance in chemical advances was well known. Bradley congratulated himself for securing the man's employ upon his rather explosive exit from the university's research department.

The realization that the Hawkeyes were related, by an unfortunate marriage, to the Grummans didn't come until years later. Bradley still told himself he didn't regret bringing Berthold on staff. The man may have been a bit eccentric, but he commanded his students' attention unlike any other teacher.

Bradley didn't care much about the students that fell in between the bottom rung and the upper echelon. They'd earn their education and go on to mundane lives. Their tuition simply served to keep the academy running so their betters could prepare for greatness. He saw families like the Havocs, whose new money had been obtained by peddling cars, as a regrettable necessity.

As his thoughts lingered on the mundane, he spotted one such student rushing down the hallway. Bradley's lip curled into a sneer. The boy was unmistakable in his intentionally cavalier way of wearing the academy's uniform. Roy Mustang was exactly the kind of student he'd like to toss out on his ear. Orphaned at the age of seven, he was currently in the care of his aunt. King Bradley hated Chris Mustang. She was opinionated, aggressive, invasive, shamelessly unmarried, and embodied everything else he found distasteful in a woman. Her rakish attitude seemed to have worn off on her nephew, because, despite not being a child of her body, he was exactly like her. Bradley did not even deign himself to try and understand the boy's popularity.

Two more years until the Mustang boy would be out of his hair and falling into the gutters his luckily-wealthy aunt seemed to revel in. Restaurateur indeed.


Roy Mustang ducked into the boys' bathroom when he spotted the Headmaster giving him the sharp eyeball Bradley was famous for. The last thing he needed was a lecture on tucking in his button-up shirt only half way. He was in a hurry and wanted to make it to Doctor Hawkeye's classroom before anyone else. Mostly because he wanted to discuss the completely unpredicted chemical reaction he'd achieved during the previous night's homework, and secondly because he hoped to snag Riza for breakfast before her obnoxious boyfriend showed up. His dislike of Jean Havoc was only rivaled by his hatred of Headmaster Bradley.

It wasn't jealousy. It wasn't. Riza was his closest friend, and since she'd started dating that giant oaf, her free time was limited. He still saw her when they spent time with their larger group of friends, but it wasn't the same. She was more secretive now and preferred to share her evenings with Jean. Roy remembered a time when he'd had dinner at the Hawkeye house several times a week.

Their friendship had been based on a mutual understanding of loss. Perhaps a little less so on his side, but he couldn't help reaching out to the girl who cried behind the trees in the school yard after her mother died. They'd both been nine when he first stumbled over her legs and bit back a haughty reply in the face of her tears. His own mother's memory was already hazy, but he understood losing a parent. At first, it became a simple mission to earn a smile from the sad little girl. He brought her dandelion flowers and lemon cakes, though the latter were usually a bit squished from their carrying place in his pocket. In the end, it was a joke about the way he always tripped over neglected shoelaces that earned him a laugh. The sound was beautiful.

Her dry sense of humor grew on him, and when loud-mouthed Basque Grand teased him again for having a whore-monger for an aunt, Riza shocked everyone in the yard by kicking the much larger boy with a sharply aimed blow. After that, no one made fun of Roy Mustang. Ever. In fact, it seemed they'd taken the head off the snake and were both accepted into what would later become a close group of friends.

Doctor Hawkeye's classroom reminded Roy very much of what a mad scientist's basement might look like. The walls were lined with shelving units he'd had installed years ago, and the contents seemed to be reproducing at an alarming rate. His private office was always locked.

"Ah, Roy, good morning. I hadn't noticed it was so late. I should probably prepare for class. What can I do for you?" Doctor Hawkeye glanced up at him from a lab table strewn with equipment and books.

"I, uh," Roy surveyed the room and caught Riza winking at him from a desk in the corner. He grinned. "I may have set my desk on fire last night."

Hawkeye looked at him fully. "Well, I'm happy to see you didn't perish in the flames and have a full head of hair. What do you think you did wrong?"

Roy produced his notes and tried very hard to keep his attention on his teacher instead of the way Riza twirled a strand of hair around her index finger. A quiet chuckle drew his eyes back to Doctor Hawkeye. "Why don't you and my daughter head down for some breakfast? I'd hate for you to start your day on an empty stomach. I made some notes in your book, here. Have a look before we meet for class."

"Thank you, sir. My aunt is grateful." Roy turned to Riza, who was stuffing books into her bag. "Wanna go eat?"

"Yeah, let's go. I've got to be out on the archery field in a half hour though." She followed him out into the hallway.

"Still kicking everyone's ass from seventy yards?"

Riza elbowed him lightly. "I can't help it if I'm the best. Maybe if you weren't stuck in your books all the time, you'd come see me. There's a tournament this weekend."

"I kind of figured you had enough support on the sidelines." Roy kept his eyes ahead. He knew he was being unfair.

"I wish-" Riza sighed quietly. "I wish you guys would just get along."

Roy felt like she'd punched him in the gut. He didn't mean to be a jerk around Havoc. The guy just grated on his nerves. He gently wrapped his hand around her elbow. "I'm sorry, okay? It's my fault."

Riza raised an eyebrow.

"I've been on edge for a while, and it's making things worse. I'll… I'll try harder to like your boyfriend, and I'll come on Saturday. Okay?"

She placed her hand over his. "Thanks, Roy. You don't have to like him. Just don't pick any fights. That's all I ask." She smiled. "My stomach is demanding food; let's get downstairs. If I'm late outside, Coach Curtis will have my head."

His grin was a permanent fixture until she left him for her archery period. He told himself he'd make peace with Havoc. He wasn't jealous. Roy had lots of female attention, definitely more than Jean, and there was no reason for him to be bitter. As of late, most of the attention came from a single source; without meaning to, Roy found himself in a steady relationship, and enjoyed her easy companionship so much he made efforts to keep her close. He spotted the girlfriend in question a second before she glued herself to his side.

"Hey, babe," he mumbled and pressed his lips to her temple.

"Hey, I missed you this morning in the courtyard!" Rebecca said with a smile. "We're going to the dam this weekend. Heymans got some booze, and it'll be fun!"

"As long as it's not Saturday. I told Riza I'd go to her tournament."

Rebecca Catalina had known Riza only a little longer than he had. They weren't especially close, but Riza didn't have anyone that knew her better than Roy. His girlfriend, like everyone else in their circle, hadn't missed the hostility that crackled in the air when Roy and Jean Havoc were in one another's company.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? You know Jean will be there, right?"

"She wanted me to come, so I'm going. Havoc can fuck off."

"Roy, I know you and Riza are close, and I know you don't like him, but if you think she'll pick you over him-"

I don't want to talk about this, Bec. Okay? I can handle Havoc. I told her I'd be there, and that I'd try to get along with him."

Rebecca stared at him for a long minute. "I'm coming, too. You need a babysitter."

Roy laughed and tugged her closer. "Maybe."

He was happy with Rebecca. He wasn't jealous.