Fullmetal Alchemist: Resolution

Just a small story here about Riza facing a little problem when her daughter, Maya, returns home from school one day :3 Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist, Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye belong to Hiromu Arakawa. All other characters belong to us.

A day off for Riza was never an invitation for rest. It was all she could do to just keep up with shopping for the things she needed, or things that needed to be taken care of around the house. Riza wondered if it was less of a problem with lack of time for relaxing or more of a problem with her just unable to do so. Pushing her exhaustion aside, she kept at her work evenly.

Riza knew Roy well enough to know he let his work become… disorganized when she wasn't around. The best she could do was prepare herself for it; do what she could now to alleviate the discourse she'd have to face the following day.

In the midst of filing away a report on her coffee table, her mind subconsciously drifted to Maya; a good friend of hers, Kyla, had offered to escort her home after hearing of Riza's workload. Riza protested, of course, but Kyla had insisted. She wasn't the type of woman you could really argue with, and her son was in the same class, so it honestly wasn't too much trouble, she supposed…

… but even still. It was only a week into Maya's schooling, and Riza couldn't help but just worry.

"It's just your mother's instincts," Roy murmured playfully in her ear. "Worry is simply a sign of a good mom."

Riza sighed, agitated. She leaned back in her chair and stared thoughtfully out the window. A good mom, huh? Riza didn't know about that; motherhood always seemed to favor the unexpected, and she found herself always fumbling around to do all she could to simply keep up. It was full of self-doubt and uncertainty… but she was learning; she was trying.

Sometimes she mulled over if the effort of trying alone was enough.

A soft click broke her thoughts, and she stood up quicker than she had anticipated she would to lead herself to the front door. Her immediate reaction was a short pause; her eyes widened at the sight in front of her. She was on her knees without a single thought, her "mother's instincts" first reaction to be to carefully probe her daughter for any bruises or blood. "Maya, what happened – are you okay?"

"She's fine," Kyla offered with a small smile. Riza shot her head up, not realizing the presence of her friend. She scolded herself for letting her guard down. "I think she needs a… little talk, though."

"I, ah…" Riza was at a loss for words, rising to her feet slowly. She closed her eyes, recomposing herself. "… Thank you for taking Maya for me, Kyla."

Kyla waved it off with the motion of her hand. "Don't mention it, really. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?" Her son, Zach, clung to her hand, quiet.

Riza offered a nod and a last thank you before closing the door softly, her gaze averting back to her daughter. She didn't appear injured, nor did she look like she was in pain. She leveled herself down, meeting Maya's eyes.

"Maya," she coaxed gently. "Why are you covered in all this dirt…?"

Maya answered with an uncertain frown, looking down at her feet.

Riza stroked Maya's hair, mindful. "…. Let's get you cleaned up." She took her hand and brought her to the kitchen, sitting her down. Maya didn't resist; she didn't say a word. The sound of running water cut the silence as Riza dampened a nearby cloth under the faucet.

It was moments like this that uncertainty clouded around her; she felt the air thicken and she did her best to keep her breathing even. Maya didn't seem interested in talking, and Riza was stumbling within herself to have words bubble up her throat. She rang out the cloth, beginning to lightly dab Maya's skin, the fabric caking black with dirt. Maya closed her eyes, stiffening.

"… Mommy, why are we white?"

Riza tensed. Her hand lowered slowly, staring at her daughter, taken back. "… Where is this coming from, Maya?"

Maya shifted, uneasy. Her voice was shy and hesitant. "Everyone else is my class is tan…"

Riza rubbed her head, quiet. She was beginning to put the pieces together. "We can't help what color our skin is, Maya… it's just part of who we are." Riza found herself to be struggling with words today; if Roy was here, he would have known the right thing to say. "… Did something happen?"

"One boy was making fun of my white skin, he said I was different," Maya murmured. "I am different…"

As Riza searched for words, the least she could do was gently place her hand on Maya's shoulder. It was nothing short of a relief that her skin was the only thing tampered with; Riza was sure it was due to lack of materials. If a bucket of white paint had been lying around, it wasn't hard to imagine Maya soaking her black hair. Thinking about washing stark hair wasn't a pleasant thought, and she found herself thankful it wasn't the reality at hand. Riza winced at the possibilities at what she could have done to make her eyes red.

She shook the thought from her. Right now her focus needed to be on what was right in front of her; not the "what ifs".

She searched Maya's eyes, a sense of desperation filling her. How do you explain something like this to a child? How are they supposed to understand? Before she could comprehend her scattered thoughts she had gathered Maya into a reassuring hug, resting her chin on the top of her head. Maya nuzzled against her, finding comfort in the gesture.

"Maya—" she began, furrowing her eyebrow just a bit. "You don't need to change yourself to be accepted—" No. That wasn't good enough. "… Do you not like being Amestrian?"

Maya pressed into Riza, quiet for a moment. "I don't like being different."

Riza sighed, closing her eyes. Amestrians were Amestrians; Ishvalans were Ishvalans. This was a simple concept to her, but she couldn't find a way to convey it that way to her daughter. A good mom, huh? She glanced away, a sinking feeling of defeat inside of her.

Time was passing slowly with an ache; nothing but the consistent motion of Riza's hand rubbing Maya's upper back stretched on in the silence.

"… Being different isn't bad, Maya," Riza murmured, her daughter pressed into her chest, still. "It just means you can see things in ways others can't… and can help people who aren't like you to grow. And in return, they'll help you grow, too…"

Riza supposed she was speaking from experience; she was never a minority growing up, but she did know what it felt like to be unlike everyone else. To sit alone all day, quiet; to have a heavy weight on her back that no one else had. Yet despite all of that… that was the one thing that she was able to give to Roy, something that he couldn't have received from anyone else. Her differences put her on the path she is now; that have tied her to Roy. The thought of regretting any of that was simply not an option.

"I don't understand," Maya muffled quietly.

"I know… and you may not for many years." She carefully lifted Maya's chin up, looking her in the eyes. "Do you trust me?"

Maya frowned and nodded a little quickly. "Yes, mommy."

"Then trust me when I say there's nothing wrong with being you, Maya Mustang, just the way you are," she spoke softly, moving some stray bangs from her eyes. "and that as you grow up you'll meet all sorts of different people who will make you an even better Maya Mustang, and that you'll make those people be a better them,too. Your differences are a gift; not a burden. But only if you let yourself see them that way."

Maya's mouth opened just the slightest, and while Riza was sure she didn't fully comprehend what she had just heard, she seemed to understand that it was something important. Riza couldn't make this kind of hurt go away with just a kiss on the finger; Maya would have to overcome this on her own, learning and understanding a little more each day. But the least Riza could do was let Maya know she had the support of her and Roy, their love, to make that pain feel just that much better; that things might turn out okay.

"I love you, Maya," Riza soothed, kissing her forehead. And that was the best she could do, to let her know that; that that was hopefully enough, the same way it was enough for Riza to hear those words.

Maya's eyes changed, the dull light in them melting away. She looked like she had some of herself coming back to her again, and she nuzzled into the crook of Riza's neck. "I love you too, mommy."

Riza wrapped her arms around her, feeling something warm inside of her. She may not be the perfect mother; but no one really was. Words certainly weren't her expertise, but perhaps words weren't always needed; expressing support and love was something she could do with just a single look, a single touch. Motherhood was difficult, but Riza decided it best to just take it day by day, one moment from another. And whenever she felt herself blanketed with self-doubt, she could find comfort in knowing she would do anything she could to have Maya's back and nudge her along forward; to know she would do whatever she could to be there for her.

And to Riza… sometimes that really was just simply enough.

That's it! We hope you enjoyed!