-Lieutenant-
-My Dearest-
Riza,
Today is March 28, 1915. It's been seven years since that day where I reencountered you on the battlefields of Ishval. Seven years since you reentered my life. Seven years since you became one of the few people in my life I dare not lose. As the promised day approaches, I find myself dwelling more and more on those battlefields, and the comrades we lost. And the comrades we may lose in the upcoming battle with the homunculi, in addition to those already lost.
I know what we are doing is right and we have no choice but to wrest control of the country back from the homunculi. I do not question the path I have chosen. But the thought does not escape me that, even if we win, I may not survive. I have no intention of going meekly into battle as I'm sure you know, but I also acknowledge the fact that the homunculi want me as a sacrifice, for whatever that entails.
And so, knowing there are things I would want you to know should I not survive. Firstly, my will is in my safe. Combination is 42-35-73-93. The contents of which will tell you that, you, in addition to Madame Christmas, are to receive everything I have but a few items to go to others.
Secondly, and personally more importantly, I love you Riza. And I'm sorry that if you are reading this here, I will have never told you myself. Throughout the years many people have asked me if I had someone special. At each time I would laugh it off, or offhandedly comment how the shop girl down the way had a nice smile, but numerous times, and with increasing frequency, it is your face that flashes through my mind.
At first I brushed it off as having spent too much time in the office. But as time passed and I found the thought recurring, I began to ponder why. And so I slowly came to realize that I loved you, it feels good to admit it, even if only to this pen and paper. Recall how I said you were one of the few people who I couldn't do without? Well, I meant it. If I were to lose you as I lost Hughes, it would tear me apart. From the inside out I would find every fiber of my being disconnected from the others, because in these last seven years, you have been my saving grace. You are organized when I am not, when I lose my temper you are there to bring me back. You Riza, have slowly come to make my world go round. And if I were to lose you, I'd fall out of orbit.
And so I write this letter to you, knowing that if you read it, I will be gone. Maybe it's cruel of me to write for circumstances that will render me incapable of doing anything, but I through it equally cruel never to let you know the impact you have had on this poor soul of mine. You might already know how I feel, considering you are the only one who ever sees through my usual façades, but I wanted to say it nevertheless.
Should I die, I beg that you don't give up, because a world without your indomitable spirit would be a sad world indeed. So please, carry on. Make this world a world we would we would both like to live in. The night we fought Lust still haunts me. Do not let my death drag you down, because there are others who rely on you, and like myself they would be lost.
In hopes that we both make it through this ordeal, I also write this letter to pen my resolve. I've told you before that I will become Fuhrer and change this country for the better. But I do have another goal in mind. Once I become Fuhrer, I intend to ask you for your hand in marriage. I already know with my whole heart that life without you would not be the same, and so I would make it official.
I love you Riza Hawkeye. The words themselves almost feel trivial. Can three words really describe the everything that you are to me? And yet, when I think of it, they are the only words I can think of that make sense.
I love you.
Roy
Roy sealed the letter and hid it to wait until needed in the coming days in a place that wouldn't be searched. He intended to destroy it should it prove unnecessary. But, in the aftermath of The Promised Day, their hospital stay combined with Roy's efforts to restore Ishval, the letter was forgotten. It would lie in its hiding space until a few years down the road, when Riza, helping Roy pack up his apartment to new quarters to suit his promoted rank, would find it and open it.