Title: What would you do?
Genre: Romance/Tragedy
Pairing: Roy x Riza
Summary: What would you do if I died in the war?
Warnings: Character death.
Disclaimer: I love FMA. But I don't own it.
What would you do?
"Sir, please take a look at this document." Riza Hawkeye's voice was crisp and sharp, and she had a look of determination of her face. Roy noticed a tinge of something else in her expression, but he could not tell what it was. He took the sheets of paper from her and scanned them quickly.
His heart skipped a beat.
"Hawkeye," he began softly, "what would you do if I died in the war?"
"I would mourn, sir," she replied after a few moments of thinking. "I would mourn over the loss of a good soldier and superior officer."
His obsidian eyes searched her features for something. Anything at all. But there was nothing. Nothing but hard coldness, shaped throughout the years as a fierce sharpshooter serving in the military. Nothing that he wished to see, and everything that he was familiar with but disliked very much. He sighed and gave a dry smile.
"Would it be the same as last time, I wonder?" he said, glancing at the photograph on his desk, where his old comrade grinned back at him cheerily. But instead of feeling lighter, his heart just seemed to grow heavier, and emptiness swept over him.
There was no response from Riza. No one could tell the answer.
He sighed again, and Riza saluted and left the room.
---
In the dim light of the oil lamp in the corner of the tent, Roy noticed a shadow falling next to his. Expecting to see Havoc, who shared a tent with him, he looked up from the alchemic textbook to see his female subordinate's face instead. Her cheeks were hollow and pale, and weary lines marked her usually smooth skin. She had cut her hair short again, by herself, so that her long hair wouldn't get in the way and obstruct her vision and prevent her from shooting accurately. Her burning auburn eyes had lost their colour, and they seemed to be pleading for help. Roy was almost horrified to see Hawkeye like this. The last time he had seen her like this was ages ago in Ishbal, and perhaps she had appeared worse that time, but he couldn't remember it clearly enough to distinguish the differences.
"Hawkeye," he said, and his voice came out hoarse and weak.
"General..." the blonde breathed. "I'm sorry to disturb you if you're doing some important studying." She blinked at the piles of books sitting around the raven-haired man, who had dark circles around his eyes. "But... I... I had to come."
"I don't mind, Hawkeye," the General said gently. "Everyone's suffering here. The war's doing no one any good at all."
"Are you suffering too?" Riza questioned.
Roy looked scared for a moment. Terrified. Then the look was gone. "Yes, I suppose," he said. "I'm the same as everyone else. I'm just human."
"You don't look it," Riza stated. She raised her hand uncertainly, afraid and half-shy, and gingerly touched Roy's face. Roy jumped slightly from the contact, and Riza snatched her hand back. "I'm sorry," she muttered hastily. "I shouldn't have done that. Sir."
Their eyes met. "No, Riza." Said person's eyes widened visibly at the mention of her first name, but made no comment. "No." None of them moved for at least a minute. Then Riza's fingers brushed against Roy's cheeks once more, brief and hesitant. Roy didn't flinch this time.
In one swift movement, Roy had his arms round Riza's neck and was pulling her down closer. The blonde gasped as a pair of foreign lips met her own, but she made no attempt to push the man away. The kiss was chaste, and when they broke apart, Riza looked dazed and frightened.
"Roy... General, I must leave now," she said, straightening herself.
"Wait, Riza," Roy cried.
"What is it, sir?" Riza asked.
"What would you do if I died in this war?" the General repeated the question from a few weeks ago.
There was a long, awkward silence. The blonde closed her eyes, sealing away all her emotions from the man. When she opened them, she looked confused and lost. "I don't know... I honestly don't know," she said, truthfully, and her voice cracked. She turned and walked away before Roy could stop her, so that he would not be able to see the tears filling her eyes.
He didn't see, but he knew.
---
The next day, Roy woke up and peered out of the tent to find that a thick fog had settled over the place. He groaned. Fogs were a nuisance during wars. No one could see their opponents and aim properly. You could end up killing your own comrades if you weren't careful.
At the battlefield, Riza Hawkeye was back to her normal self again. Yes, she looked tired and all that, but she was nothing like what Roy had witnessed. The colour had come back to her features, and the stern style had returned. She held herself with confidence, and it was hard to see through the mask to the trembling, fearful girl inside. She was so like the usual woman who used a gun to threaten him in the office that Roy couldn't help but wonder if the previous night was only a dream created by his sanity-deprived mind.
If it was a dream, then at least he was grateful it wasn't one of the haunting nightmares that visited him almost every night.
Hurried footsteps came his way. "General Hakuro wishes to see you," a voice said. The person whom the voice belonged to approached closer and Roy could now see him. He was a low-ranked messenger. "It's a very important matter."
Roy followed the messenger obediently without a word, and vanished into the mist.
---
"General!"
Riza looked around frantically. Her superior officer was not by her side, just as he had been a moment ago. The fog made matters worse. "General!" she shouted again. "General Mustang!" The sounds of war echoed all around her: desperate wails, harsh, ragged breaths, deafening gunshots, panicked screams... There was no sight of Roy anywhere.
Then a red flash of light struck through the mist abruptly. In an instant, it was gone, but Riza was certain she had saw it, and she knew it was Roy's alchemical fire.
Her body was controlled by only one thought: Must find Roy.
And she ran. Abandoning her mask, she ran. Her mind was clouded with frenzied worry, and her eyes were blinded by the grey haze surrounding her, suffocating her. She ran in the direction of the red light she had seen. She ran as fast as the legs carrying her possibly could. "Roy Mustang!" she screamed, but her call was muffled and lost in the heavy fog. She carried on running.
She tripped over something suddenly and fell. Scrambling to get up, she discovered with a shock that a familiar face was buried under her chest. "Roy!" she exclaimed. With some effort, the eyelids squinted open to reveal the pools of black ink underneath. "Riza," he said, and his voice was softer than the whispering breeze.
"You know that question you asked me twice?" the blonde asked.
A nod. Roy didn't really know which required more energy: to move his head or his mouth.
"Well, I know the answer now. I would cry and cry and cry," as she spoke, tears were already spilling from her auburn eyes.
"Don't cry," Roy said. His tone made it sound like an order, and Riza knew that it was an order.
"Don't die then," was her equally demanding response.
"I'm afraid I can't listen to you this time, Hawkeye," the dying man said jokingly, managing a weak smile.
"You never listen to me anyway. Why can't you listen to me for once? I would much appreciate it, sir," his subordinate tried to play along, but she choked over her words.
"You never listen to me either, Hawkeye," the General said, his voice sad. "Please don't cry. You're the strongest woman I've ever known. Move on without me. Live your life happily. You have great potential in the military. Perhaps you will become the first female Fuhrer." He wanted to laugh, but he couldn't, so Riza chuckled for him.
"It has never been my intention to climb up the military ranks, General. I only followed because it was your wish," she explained, forcing herself to smile for Roy.
"Then leave the military after the war and do something else. You'll be a great business woman..." There was a sigh. "Just be strong, okay?"
The blonde lowered her head so that her boss wouldn't see the last drops of tears. "Yes, I will, sir... Roy."
There was no reply. Death had already stolen the man away.
No tears were shed anymore.
The End
A/N: I know I haven't written Royai in a long time. It's been nearly four months since my last Royai fanfic. I blame the stupid FMA movie for stealing my Royai muse. The FMA movie was just so blatantly EdWin and RoyEd, and not Royai at all... -sniff sniff- Anyway, please read & review!
