Title: Anniversary
Author: Sofipitch
Series: manga/brotherhood
Word Count: 999
Rating: PG
Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang
Summary: And she saw their face, memorized it, before they dropped to the ground.
Warnings: death, psychological trauma
Subject: prompt 173, Serious Illness, "Anniversary"
Author's Note: It seems I have a knack for barely making the word limits. Honestly I tried to write this story the way Arakawa would, without letting you know what was happening at first and trying not to focus too much on the sad parts by having them go by quickly. I hope I did well, the word count prevented me from saying everything I wanted to but it'll do.
A/N2: This piece won second place.
Riza Hawkeye made a point not to celebrate anniversaries. She didn't particularly like them. She never celebrated her own birthday, and she always found an excuse not to celebrate someone else's. She did congratulate them, but that was all she ever did. She thought it was rubbish to celebrate a day out of the three hundred and sixty-five there are in a year. To her a day was just another number on the calendar, no more, no less.
But once every year she went out alone to a bar. It was the only time she ever put effort into acknowledging a date. And she always celebrated this one alone, because that's how she wanted to be at the moment, alone. She wondered why she acknowledged it, but she knew she did it because the voices in her head wouldn't let it pass her by.
Riza was never much of a drinker. She preferred not to, she didn't really like the taste of alcohol burning down her throat. But on this day for some unknown reason, it was comforting. It made the voices in her head quite down. But every time she exited the bar and started walking down the street, they would start raging again. The hell in her head always tortured her that day. Of course they tortured her other days too, but this day was always the worst.
She finished her glass and called the bartender over.
"Another miss?"
"No. I would like the check please." She never looked at anyone in the bar. Because if she did, the faces of the people who the voices belonged to would replace the drinkers faces. And then the voices would start screaming again.
The man picked up her glass and handed her the check. Riza started the hear the voices again. She paid the check and made her way out of the bar before the voices started to get real loud. She always got uneasy at the idea that the voices could possibly get so loud that others might hear. Although she knew that was a preposterous idea.
She made it down the sidewalk, halfway to her apartment, before she had to stop. It started raining. And as the water started pooling together on the pavement she noticed how the light from the street light glistened off of the water. And then, at that moment, her resolve broke. Her back slammed into the brick wall behind her.
She was glad not many people were out at these hours, all of them at home sleeping in their beds. She was glad there wasn't anyone but the few passing cars out there to watch her cry.
She cried for what seemed to her to be an hour, just standing there, staring at how the light in the water looked like flames licking the ground.
Eventually she started to slide down, with her back still against the wall, and she covered her eyes, adverting herself from looking at the fire in her imagination. She pulled her legs up to her chest and tried to cover her eyes and ears from the sounds of the voices. She sat there curled up and cowering like a child as they raged on.
"My son! No, no, no! How could you do this!"
"You monsters killed my family!"
"Please have mercy!"
Riza saw all the voice's faces screaming at her. Even though they hadn't know where she was, they knew she was there. And she watched as they never finished what they were saying before blood started pouring out of them. And she saw their face, memorized it, before they dropped to the ground.
"How long have you been there?"
She raised her head. Her vision was blurry and she had to squint to focus on his face. His brows were furrowed with concern as he looked down at her.
"You shouldn't be out here in the rain." He had adjusted his umbrella to cover her instead of himself. "You'll get sick."
Riza winced at the word. "I shot hundreds of innocent people on the battlefield. And every day I see their faces, scared, angry faces. And every day I hear their voices, the last words they said before they died. Before I shot them." Riza lowered her head and whispered, "I'm a monster. I am already sick for doing what I did out there."
He didn't say anything as he lowered his outstretched hand and Riza allowed herself to be helped up. She staggered and had trouble righting herself. She felt his strong grip on her shoulders, holding her up. Everything was blurry; she couldn't see him very well.
"You're not a monster Hawkeye. You were just a solider following orders." Her last coherent thought before she completely blacked out was that to her, what he said sounded worse.
The next morning at noon, Riza woke up feeling like shit. And the first thing she did was fall into a particularly nasty coughing fit.
After hacking her lungs out, she noticed that she was in her thought of Mustang carrying her home and tucking her in bed made her extremely embarrassed, but she knew he wouldn't ever dare utter a word about it.
She greeted Black Hayate and made her way into the kitchen where she found breakfast already made and the coffee pot prepared. She sneezed before turning to her dog and saying, "I'm guessing he also fed you?"
She went to where the dog food bowl was located in the corner and found a note placed on the outside rim.
I fed the dog and made you breakfast. Don't bother coming into work, I put you on sick leave. Take as many days as you may need to get better. If you need someone to talk to, you know my number. Don't be ashamed to ask for help. You've always been there for me.
-Mustang
And for a second, that man's kind words made the voices seem to disappear.