Someone To Talk To
by Prettywitchiusaka
BANG!
Through the periscope on her rifle, Riza watches her target, an Ishbalan man collapse to the ground, lifeless.
Next, she reloaded the gun, turned it slightly, and waited patiently for "the enemy" to come. When a target was in her sights she would pull the trigger and, with perfect accuracy, shoot a bullet through their head and watch them fall over dead.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Every day was the same routine; get up, get dressed, have a quick breakfast. Then head into town, pick the tallest building you could find, and check to make sure it was secure before going to the top floor. Then check your gun, position it, and kill.
Kill. Eat. Kill. Sleep. Kill. Eat. Kill. Sleep.
A never-ending cycle, but one she'd grown used to. Get up, do your job, then have a break and don't think too much about what you're actually doing.
Every now and then, she'd see the fear in the eyes of Ishbalans trying to flee through her periscope. Any sympathy she felt for these men and women though, she tucked away behind a mask of indifference and shot them.
She was Major Riza Hawkeye; ace marksmen at the top of her class, sent here to aid the State in their annihilation of the enemy. Who cares what she thought?
Riza positioned her rifle, ready to shoot the next Ishbalan in her line of sight… And felt her amber eyes widen at the sight of an Ishbalan child.
He couldn't have been more than ten or twelve years old, but he looked like he'd been fighting all his life. His cloths were torn, the gun he was holding in his hand had obvious scuff marks on it, possibly from a desperate struggle to acquire it. Or maybe it was worn out from years of use. She'd never know.
But the most striking thing about this boy had to be his face. His cheek bones were visible, which meant he'd probably had very little to eat or drink for days or even weeks. And there was barely any emotion in his eyes. Just fatigue, fatigue and a sliver of what looked like a desperate plea for survival.
Riza's grip on her rifle tightened, knowing her mask was starting to slip. She had to kill this boy, it was what she was here to do.
She looked into her periscope again, and she saw not just tears forming in his eyes, but the dark bags underneath them, too.
She sighed…and loosened her grip on her gun. She could afford to break the rules just this once, she told herself. One less person to kill, one less sin to bear.
"There's the brat!"
Riza looked into her periscope and saw a group of soldiers approaching the frightened child…and he was pointing the gun at them.
Her grip on her gun tightened once more, and her mask slipped again…but only for a moment.
She pointed her gun at the child, placed her finger on the trigger and pulled it.
BANG!
Riza awoke to a dark, unfamiliar ceiling. It took a moment, but when recollection came to her she breathed a sigh of relief. She was in Central on an errand with her boss, Colonel Mustang. They planned on spending the night in a hotel, but his friend Hughes had insisted they spend the night at his place.
Ishbal, the child, it was all a nightmare. She was resting comfortably in the guest room, safe and sound.
But just because Riza was in a safe place didn't mean she felt safe.
She could still feel the butterflies in her stomach, the jumbled fog her brain was in as she stared up at the ceiling, replaying the image of the boy on loop in her head for what felt like hours.
She'd been having these memories turned nightmares for the last few weeks, now. Though why was anyone's guess.
But whatever made these thoughts go away, she had to do it now.
In a few hours, she and Roy would be on a train back to East City. That meant another long day of office work, keeping her male colleagues in line, and protecting and/or babysitting the Colonel. If she wanted to perform even just one of those tasks successfully, she was going to need some sleep.
Riza turned on her side, closed her eyes and tried not to think of the boy and his dead eyes. Or his sickly cheeks. Or the gun in his hands. Or anything related to him, really.
This went on for what felt like hours to Riza. Occasionally, she would stop obsessing over the memories, which made her feel safe and at peace again.
It never lasted long.
The second she realized her thoughts had drifted away from her unpleasant past, something, like a thought about the boy, or the stench of Ishbalan corpses rotting in the streets, would take hold and the cycle would begin anew. The butterflies in her stomach would flutter wildly, and her mind raced with negative thoughts that constantly reminded her how awful she was.
Finally, Riza sighed.
She looked up at the clock on the night stand and noticed the time; it was two in the morning. Riza growled.
"Damnit!" she thought. Why was this so hard? It was a memory, buried and forgotten. She'd already made peace with it.
"No…that's not it," Riza realized. If that were true, this wouldn't be bothering her as much as it was.
If she mentioned or even talked about these thoughts, than she'd have to admit to herself that she, like many of her colleagues, could not forget the massacre.
And she couldn't have that.
When Riza came back from the war, she made an oath to herself; what happened in Ishbal stays in Ishbal. She'd seen the kind of psychological damage it'd done to her friends; some
grieved in quiet, other became depressed and reclusive, some quit the military altogether, but not her. If she was to walk the path of a soldier, than she would make sure it was a fulfilling life.
And she'd been doing just that.
She had her hobbies, she had her dog, she had her friends. The war had been hard on her, but it had not broken her. She came out the other side a little bit wiser, a little more mature.
That's why she never asked to be discharged.
She stayed to help guide and protect someone dear to her, true. But there was also a part of her that wanted, or rather, refused to believe she'd made the wrong decision with her life…it just felt like she'd be giving into defeat if she did.
And these constant flashbacks might just do her in if she wasn't too careful.
Riza rubbed her eyes. She needed to relax, and at this hour the only thing that could help her do that was a good book and a comfy place to read.
She got up from the bed and walked over to the desk she'd placed her overnight suitcase on earlier in the day. She grabbed her white robe off the desk chair and wrapped it around herself. She picked up the latest paperback novel she was reading and made her way towards the living room, deciding she needed a change of scenery.
When Riza entered the room, she gasped. There was a man standing at the window, staring out at the full moon hanging in night sky.
It didn't take long for her to figure out who this mystery man was. His black hair, his confident stance and broad shoulders, even the way he loosely held the glass tumblr in his hand while the other one lay tucked away in the pocket on his robe. Obviously it was her Colonel, Roy Mustang.
"Colonel?"
Roy turned around and gasped.
"Lieutenant!" he said. "What are you doing up?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"
She watched his posture relax as a somber expression formed on his handsome face. It didn't last long. A few seconds later, Roy shrugged his shoulders in indifference.
"Couldn't sleep. Didn't wanna sit around in my room, so I figured I'd stretch my legs and have a drink."
Roy wasn't fooling her, though.
From the corner of her eye, she could see an open bottle with at least two thirds of alcohol left in it on the coffee table. Probably that rare bottle of vintage scotch Hughes gave him earlier tonight as a late birthday present.
Riza stared sadly at the floor.
"I see…"
Once again, he'd turned to alcohol for comfort. He hadn't said anything, but she knew. There was always a melancholy look to his eyes whenever he got like this; the fatigued weariness of a man trying desperately to drown out the voices of the innocent lives he'd taken…and failing.
But hell would have to freeze over before he ever admitted it.
It's why she hadn't asked him if he was okay, even though she would like an answer. Doing so would make her a hypocrite.
"What about you?"
Riza looked up…only to be greeted by the toned, muscular chest of her superior the blue bathrobe around his body could't hide. It made her blush.
"Couldn't sleep, either?"
Riza jerked out of her trance to meet the curious look on Roy's face. Though, she swore she heard just a sliver of concern in his voice.
"No, it's not that," she answered.
Silence fell over them.
"You wanna talk about it?" he asked.
Riza gasped, completely floored by his question. It wasn't until she looked into his dark eyes and, noting the tiniest bit of concern in them, that she relaxed and gave him a smile. She could never deny him anything.
"Sure."
Roy returned her smile with one of his own, sending her heart a flutter. It's a pity she didn't get to see a genuine one from him more often, she thought.
She sat on the couch and straightened herself, her Colonel following suit. He took a seat beside her and placed his glass on the coffee table.
And Riza? Well, her eyes were fixated on his chest.
She couldn't help it, though. His perfect abs, his flawless pecks. She wanted to pounce him, trail kisses all over his bare torso and listen to him moan her name. Maybe even go home with him and make sure no one ever bothered them again-
"You can take a picture, you know? It'll last longer."
Hearing that, Riza snapped out of it to see the Colonel smirking at her with that impish
grin of his. Embarrassed, she tore her eyes away from him and stared at the wall in an attempt to save her dignity.
"I don't know what you mean," she said, unable to keep the redness on her cheeks from spreading across her face.
He chuckled. "Right…" Riza frowned; she should've known he'd see right through her, he always did. "So what's on your mind?"
Her amber eyes turned somber as she gave herself a moment to compose an answer.
"I was dreaming about Ishbal, again."
And just like that, she felt her Colonel's mood change from jokey and playful, to one of melancholy introspection, as it always did whenever someone brought up Ishbal.
"I see…" He paused. "Is this the first time in awhile?"
Riza smiled half-heartedly. "Yes," she lied.
She could feel Roy burning a hole into her head with his gaze, practically demanding she tell him the truth, but she stood her ground.
He didn't need to know these nightmares were a reoccurring issue, not when he had more important matters to attend to. Besides, it was her job to worry about him, not the other way around.
She was his adjutant, his protector. She stayed in the military (mostly) for him, to help guide him on his path to redemption. If she broke right now, it'd be a betrayal of everything she'd worked for since Ishbal. Both for Roy, and for herself.
So she straightened herself and kept looking straight ahead. Roy could say whatever he wanted, but she would not budge.
A few minutes later he let out a sigh. Riza smiled internally. Finally, he'd given up! For once, victory was hers!
"Was it anything specific?"
Or so she thought…That question had really taken her back…
Oh well, she could give him a dignified answer. "You remember how I was a sniper during the war?"
"Yeah."
"Well there was a time when I noticed an Ishbalan child." She paused. "My orders were to kill anything that wasn't "strictly military". In other words, anyone who wasn't Amestrian. But when I saw him…he looked so pale and gaunt…I couldn't help but feel sorry for him…"
"So you let him go."
"That was the plan. But then-" She balled her fists up…she wasn't sure how to go about explaining this part. "Then I-"
"It's okay, Lieutenant."
When Riza turned around, she saw Roy staring at her with an intense gaze. "Just give yourself a second to calm down," he said. Instantly, she knew what he was doing.
He was using their secret code, of sorts. A code only they knew. When one was about to loose their cool, the other would speak more calm and deliberately, in an effort to remind whoever was panicking to relax and quietly collect themselves.
Riza nodded and took a few deep breaths. A few minutes later, she was relaxed and ready to continue.
"But then there was a group of soldiers approaching, the child held up the gun in defence…it all happened so fast I-" She stopped herself, taking another deep breath. "I pointed my rifle at him and shot…He was dead by the time he hit the ground…"
Riza closed her eyes, feeling…tears falling down her cheeks? Her eyes widened.
No, no, no! This can't be happening, she thought. She was First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye; ace sharpshooter and assistant to The Flame Alchemist. She couldn't afford to look weak, especially not over something that happened almost a decade ago.
She dried her eyes. "I'm sorry, Sir," she said. "I don't know why I'm crying-"
"Riza?…" She turned to face the Colonel, and was surprised to see he was no longer hiding the worry he felt for her in his eyes. "Do you want a drink?…You look like you could use one…"
Suddenly, Riza felt herself relax.
In all this stubbornnes she kept forgetting that right now, she was Riza, and he was Roy. There was no office, to ranks, no regulations to keep them in line.
They were just two normal - well, as normal as one could ask for - people who'd been through the same ordeal, who felt comfortable letting their guard down in front of each other…and that was okay.
So she smiled, nodded and said "Thank you."
Roy smiled. He got up and walked into the kitchen to get her a glass.
They sat there for the rest of the night, discussing their demons haunting while slowly drinking themselves silly. Finally, they fell into a deep, peaceful slumber shortly before dawn.
When Riza woke again, the vague outline of the sun slowly rising in the sky, her nose taking in the scent of…ash? And cologne?
It took a moment for recollection to come to her before she remembered falling asleep in the arms of her Colonel.
She looked up and took in his sleeping face, smiling at how calm and at peace he appeared.
There was a part of her, however small, that wanted to let him sleep a little bit longer, knowing he could use the extra shut eye. But deep down she knew that would be impossible.
It was six-thirty according to the grandfather clock in the corner; they needed to be at the train station in an hour, or else they would have to wait for another one and risk being late.
Besides, the last thing Roy needed was for Hughes to find them like this and snap a picture. Although knowing their luck, he probably already got his 'incriminating' evidence.
But they'll cross that bridge when they get there, should it ever come.
"Colonel?" she said softly.
Roy opened his eyes. "Hmm…wha?…" He rubbed some sleep out of his eye, finally noticing Riza staring at him. "Oh, is it morning already?"
"Yeah," she replied. "We should get back to our rooms and pack."
"Right…"
She grabbed her book and slowly moved out of his embrace. He got up and collected the tumblrs and (now) empty bottle of scotch.
"How are you feeling?"
She turned to face him and smiled. "Better," she said.
He smiled. "Good."
Riza felt her heartbeat flutter when she saw that smile. She walks over to him, and watches the surprise on his face as she placed a hand on his chest and kissed him on the cheek.
When it was over, she smiled and said "Thank you, Roy."
She watched as the surprise on his face faded and softened into a smile.
"No problem," he replied. "You've listened to me babble on when I'm feeling down, it's only fair."
She smiled.
"Now, let's go, Lieutenant," he said, and walked towards the hall.
"Yes, Sir," she replied, following right behind him.
The whole time, she couldn't help but smile. It felt nice having someone to talk to about these memories, she thought.
And now next time couldn't come soon enough.
The End