Keep away from them. She had been told many a time by the other people who haunted the streets of Central. To stay clear of the soldiers was the only way to survive out here and getting caught could mean instant death for anyone that they suspected was living here, just as she was.
Riza pushed her hands deeper into her deceased father's old trench coat, one of the few things she took from the house she grew up in. She didn't want to stay in the home where he studied, lived, learnt the secret of Flame Alchemy and he- She shook her head, the last one filled her nightmares enough, she didn't need it clogging up her conscious hours too.
The road Riza was walking along was overflowing with snow and dirt, creating a concoction of the two so it resembled nothing more than melted ice-cream. She shook her head, she knew she shouldn't have thought of that, now her stomach began growling. She silently told it, Be quiet, there is no point moaning. and as Riza walked she hoped no one could hear her stomach begging for food. She had not eaten in three days so she didn't blame it, but she had to earn the money to get the food.
Just behind the few people in front of her, Riza spotted her usual 'begging bench' as she called it. It was where she sat looking sorry for herself for most for the day to attempt to get money for food. However, she hadn't been able to get much lately and the boys weren't happy.
'The boys' weren't really boys, they were men that she lived with in an alley a few blocks away from where she sat now. There were four of them: Breda, Falman, Fuery and Havoc. Riza didn't know if they were first names, last names or nicknames, and she didn't care. They were kind enough to let her stay with them and as long as she did as they told her, she could stay as long as she wanted.
They had suggested that she became a 'Lady of the Night' because Fuery had pointed out she would be "attractive is you cleaned your face." and to her displeasure the other three agreed. But after she told them she was barely 16, which was a slight lie, only by a couple years, they felt less inclined to the idea.
That is the reason Riza was sat on her bench with her knees pulled up to her chin, dead eyes watching everyone who walked past, occasionally calling out for change. She hated this, being homeless and asking strangers for money, it was humiliating.
She had brought money with her but it soon ran out, and so did the cans of food she had put into her rucksack, Breda was to blame for that. She did slightly resent Havoc for twisting her arm into letting him buy cigarettes with some of the money, then maybe they wouldn't be in this mess quite yet. It would have been another week and this would be the position she would be in.
Riza didn't blame anyone but herself for the mess she was in, she could have stayed in the house until she got kicked out because her father was dead and her mother died during childbirth. She didn't have any friends she could ask to stay with, so this was her only option other than to stay in a dead house, where dead people lived, on her own.
The cold had began biting at her face so she put her face between her knees and chest to give it some heat. It was rare that the winter dampness didn't find its way into her bones, it was times like this she wished she had the courage to walk into Madame Christmas' bar and ask if she could lend her services there. No, she thought, she would never forgive herself, and not forgetting her vandalised back.
Another reason for the oversized trench coat was to completely cover her back so she didn't get any suspicious looks and its thickness meant that no one could feel it. Her father wasn't exactly gentle or accurate when he was in one of his moods, caring least for Riza's safety or wellbeing.
Whilst she was trying to push the triggering childhood memories out of her mind, Riza heard a small clatter of coins in the tin cup she had set down beside her.
"Mister, are you feeling okay?" Riza looked up to see a small child pulling at her trouser leg and looking up at her with an extremely concerned expression on her face. At least the short hair was doing its work, fooling people of her true identity. The girl's face changed to surprise when Riza looked up but she smiled wanly.
"Hello, I am fine thank you, was that you who put money in my cup?" The girl, still transfixed by Riza, smiled and nodded.
"Yes, it's not much because mama won't let me give too much to strangers." She said, gesturing to a woman stood a little way behind her, "You're not a boy, are you?" She added, skeptically. Riza nodded, and waved thanks to the woman a few feet away from her, she turned away and crossed her arms.
Taking no notice, Riza turned her attention back to the child. "Thank you so much, and no, I am a girl, a very unlucky one." The girl tilted her head and her round green eyes flooded with saddened curiosity.
"But, but you are really pretty and really nice, nice people shouldn't be on the streets." So she understood why she was giving me money, Riza thought. She had to look away for a minute to get herself together, she was happy this was what the next generation was going to be like.
"I had to leave home, both my parents died and-" Riza was cut off by the woman swooping upon the two of them and taking her daughter away by the arm and hissed something like "Don't talk to strangers." The girl turned around as she was ushered away to give Riza a wave, she waved back and a tear ran down her face. The first happy tear since she left home.
As the pair walked away, Riza wondered what it would be like to have a mother, a warm person to cuddle and hold when she had a bad day, a person to understand and listen to her. A person to protect her from the cold and people she was afraid of. Now the purpose of the tears changed.
Angrily wiping her cheeks, Riza sniffed and stood up, stop being so childish, she told herself. Again she began trudging down the street to clear her head, shoving the cup and change into her pocket as she went.
Riza stopped in front of a window of a closed shop and stared blankly at her reflection. She had been pretty, but with the grime, greyish skin and greasy hair it was hard to tell she had been. The girl's words had made her feel better, she admitted to herself but she was only a hollow shell of the person she once was. She smiled weakly and began up the street again.
Her ears picked up splashes of shoes coming toward her, she turned around to see who it was. Was it one of the boys trying to find her? The glimpse of blue uniform gave her the answer, it wasn't any of the boys. She began walking faster, but not so fast she fell over and became prey to the soldier.
"Girl, stop walking." A deep voice ordered her, but instead Riza bolted. She began running in the direction of the alley she lived in, but she heard heavy footsteps steadily following her. Why is he following me? The soldiers didn't make a habit of chasing after their prey, they usually made their prey come to them.
Riza kept skidding around the corners of buildings and down alleyways in an attempt to lose him, but to no avail. Turning the corner at Madame Christmas' bar she fell on her back but jumped back on her feet, paying no attention to the pain in the back of her head.
The soldier was still following Riza by the time she was a street away from her alley, she had to think of something fast. There was a house across the street that had a broken bay window, so she ran over the road and jumped through and hid below it.
There was broken glass everywhere, some digging into her hands and knees, possibly puncturing her skin, but she couldn't give herself away now. Riza held her breath and waited for the man to go past.
The footsteps slowed, still on the other side of the street to her relief, she stayed as still as her pained body would let her. Riza heard him ask people if they had seen a young girl with short, blonde hair, but none had.
To her surprise, he began shouting. "Where are you? I am trying to help you, not hurt you." She rolled her eyes, help me die, probably. She still stayed silent until she heard his footsteps disappear back the way he came.
Poking her head over the top of the window sill to make sure he was gone, she began to start climbing over it and checked the street again.
There he was. He stood at the end of street still looking for her, and he turned slightly in Riza's direction and she froze. Please don't see me, please. She was sure he had seen her but why didn't he chase after her?
He shouted again, but this time it felt like he was talking to her directly, sending a shiver down her back. "If you want to find me, girl, I am Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang." Their eyes met for a long second and then he just walked away, as if nothing happened. Riza stood there for another second, confused and then bolted for the alley to find the boys and tell them what just happened.
