Fresh Wounds


The sun was setting. The scattering of oranges and reds could not be seen. She had drawn the curtains. Light, however, still found a way in. It leaked out of the edges of the window, overflowing onto the walls and wooden floor. Riza stood there, eyes locked in a solemn stare with the small beams. She was calm. She closed her eyes and listened. The clock ticked. The sink dripped. Roy was breathing slow, uneasy breaths.

"It's okay," she whispered.

He leaned against the door, watching her frame from across the room. His eyes trailed down her body, from her blonde, choppy hair to the black shoes she was wearing. One by one, she slipped them off onto the rug. Perhaps, it made her more comfortable. Roy looked down at his own shoes.

"Colonel," she began. "It's okay."

He took a step toward her, the weight of the situation suffocating him. She had been asking him to do it ever since they returned home. Now, here in her living room, he felt trapped. Colonel Mustang came to stand in front of her sofa. There was still time. He could lead her there to sit down, and take her hands in his. He could try to talk some sense into her.

"You don't have to do this."

"I do."

"Hawkeye, please."

"Remember what I said to you? In Ishval? No one else will suffer by my hand."

The Colonel took another step. "It was by my hand."

"Then I can prevent it from never happening again."

He looked away. "And if I refuse you?"

"I'll find a way to do it myself." Her voice was bitter. "I trust you, sir. Please relieve me of this burden."

Tenderly, Riza unbuttoned her shirt, allowing it to slide down her shoulders and onto the floor. She felt the cool air of the room kiss her exposed skin. Instinctively, she crossed her arms.

Roy's eyes widened. There it was, laid out before him on the smooth canvas of her skin. Berthold's legacy, etched into her back. He studied it. The layout was familiar; his teacher had drilled the script into his head. The old words were arranged in an intricate, geometric pattern. The small amount of light casted a shadow over it all. All her father's research; to be destroyed in a matter of seconds.

His attention was not only drawn to the inking, but her body proved to be a rare itself. Roy had never seen the expanse of her skin like this before; so raw, but pure. She was pale, light a white flower blooming before him. Her body had matured since they were young ones. He was met with the strong back of a young woman, not that of the girl who greeted him every time he came by for a lesson. And that very thought seared his heart a little more.

"Are you sure?" he asked again.

Riza nodded, her fingernails digging into the backs of her arms. She closed her eyes and waited.

His hand trembled. Was he really capable of doing this?

"Colonel, please."

She was pleading with him. He could not let her down.

Roy raised his hand. His thumb slid across his middle finger, creating the first snap of fire. The flames hissed and glided across her skin. Riza choked out a whimper, the pain being far greater than she expected. She faltered a bit, but regained her footing. Her flesh sizzled. He had only removed a small fraction of the tattoo.

"Hawkeye, I—"

"I'm fine. P-please continue."

Her breaths were ragged. She panted, trying to cope with grueling sensation. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to trail down her face. Roy gritted his teeth and snapped again.

She screamed. The heat was more intense this time, digging into several layers of her flesh. She braced herself on the window sill. Light illuminated the fresh wound. Crimson flowed out of it and down the crease of her spine.

"Again!" she commanded. It wasn't enough. There was still more.

A third time, he snapped. Heat flooded the air. The fire stripped the skin along her left shoulder, all the way to the middle of her back. She collapsed on her knees, fingers scratching the floor boards. Her shriek of agony pierced his ears.

He could no longer bear it. "Enough."

She sobbed.

Roy fell to his knees. Anger welled up inside of him. He tore of the crisp, white gloves. They were soiled to him, tainted by the anguish of one he cared so much for. His fists hit the ground.

"Damn it!"

Riza shuddered. He crawled over to her, slowly. His eyes, darker than ever, roamed over her backside. He had done it. Pieces of the puzzle were scorched, burned, removed. Her beautiful skin, damaged by his hand. Her body heaved. The sight of her, the smell of her flesh made his stomach turn.

"C-Colonel," she whispered.

"No more," he said. "I can't do this to you again."

She braced herself on her elbows, pushing her weight off the floor. He gently gripped the sides of her arms, pulling her up with him. His palms collided with her cold sweat.

"Let go."

He gripped her tighter. "No."

The tears didn't stop. He picked up her shirt off the ground and handed it to her. She took it, holding it to her chest to cover her breasts. The Colonel turned her around to face him. He searched her face for any sign of hatred, any look of disgust or retaliation.

Nothing.

When he looked into her amber eyes, there was only relief. Gingerly, he brushed her bangs out of her face.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Riza shook her head. "You don't have to apologize. I asked for this."

"You didn't ask for this to be carved into your back." His voice grew angry. "You didn't ask to carry this around. And now look, look what I've done to you."

"You helped me."

The Colonel stepped away from her. "You'll have these scars for the rest of your life."

"But that means these wounds will heal. I'm cursed with some that never will, Roy."

He hadn't heard her say his name in a long time.

"Riza."

That night, he stayed with her. He washed her wounds, and dressed them. Each time she flinched, he felt a pang of guilt. But whenever he stopped, she urged him to continue, as she always did. He wrapped her torso with bandages, circling her body over and over again. His fingers brushed her chest. The intimate contact was unsettling. After tearing her apart, it felt wrong to be stitching her back together.

"Thank you, Colonel."

"You're welcome, Lieutenant."


Lately I've been really fascinated with Roy and Riza's relationship. This was one of the most controversial parts of the show and I wanted to give my take on how things occurred. Thanks for reading!