A Perfect Soldier

(Summary: I am not the author-slash-owner of Full Metal Alchemist… though I wish I am.)

She was the perfect soldier.

For him, a perfect soldier never falters, never wavers, never hesitates, and never disobeys. A perfect soldier wears the complete uniform, has the proper posture and follows the military's protocols. A perfect soldier aims and shoots with accuracy, without any failure. For him, those constitute a perfect soldier.

For him, she was one.

Or so he thought.

He thought that she was the perfect soldier.

Sure, she never failed in obeying a superior's orders. Her uniform was always ironed, her posture was perfect, she never dared to go against the military, and she shoots with 100% accuracy. She was not called "Hawk's Eye" for nothing.

But for her, it was just a mask—a façade for her to hide her emotions, a way to escape the perils of the war which haunts her every night.

And a front to disguise her feelings for him.

For years, he is trying to convince himself that his feelings toward her were just pure admiration and brotherly. He never considered love. The thought of the military's perfect soldier and the military's hopeless womanizer together was totally out of question. For him, love should be expressed explicitly. Love for him should be said.

Until one incident made him change his perspective…

She never felt so scared.

The perfect soldier was faced with the greatest challenge she ever encountered.

"I want you to watch my back. In case I stray away from the path, shoot me with your very hands."

There she stood, her gun's safety clicked off and aimed at the man she vowed to follow. Her face doesn't show it, but she's scared—scared that he would let the flames of anger and revenge consume him, scared that they would not make it out alive.

And scared that she would have to shoot the man she loves.

She promised him. She knew she did. But the thought of shooting him with her very hands was unbearable, painful.

"That's enough, Sir. I'll take care of the rest."

How surprised she was that her voice was steady. She never expected that she could be calm in this situation.

"I've found him! I've found the bastard that killed him!"

She winced upon hearing his voice. Every syllable he uttered was leaking with frustration and anger. He was poised to kill. No, she would not allow him. She would not allow him to be consumed by his own flames.

Because despite everything—his imperfections, his procrastinations, and attitude, she loved him. The words "I love you" were forbidden to be said by a subordinate to a commanding officer. Those three simple words can't be uttered.

That's why in her own way, she would like him to feel her love for him.

That's why she would do everything for him to see the light once more.

His heart felt like exploding upon seeing the pathetic state of the monster that killed his best friend.

He heard the safety of a gun being clicked off and his lieutenant saying that she would take care of everything. But no, this was not her fight. It was his. He would be the one to make the bastard suffer the consequences.

"One more blow will do the trick. Lower your gun."

"I cannot consent. Please put your hand down."

He almost didn't recognize his own voice. It was full of anger, waiting to be unleashed. Her refusal to obey his order only added more fuel to the flame growing inside him.

"I… I finally tracked him down!"

"I know that! But… but what you're about to do isn't for the sake of the country, and it's not for the sake of helping your comrades either."

What she said slowly returned him to his senses. Realization started to dawn over him. But his stubbornness and anger prevented him from fully understanding everything.

Her hand shook as she held the gun. She was about to lose everything—her composure and confidence. She stared at the seemingly unfamiliar man before her, eyes aflame with anger and intent to kill.

"You're trying to dispel your hatred. That intent alone is gnawing at your heart. You can't fall down that path."

She needed to remind him that he entrusted his back to her, that she would not allow him to stray from his path. It was her only way of showing that she cares not only for his position, but for him as well. As simple as it may seem, it was the only way she could show how much she loves him.

She saw him take a deep breath and spoke the words that made her weak in the knees.

"Shoot me if you want."

Needless to say, she was taken aback. Though she was the best sniper in the military, she could not shoot him. How can she possibly shoot the man she loves? Her mind went blank, and all that she could think about was that statement he spoke with no hesitation.

Realization finally dawned on him, making him realize his mistake.

He cringed at the thought of his best friend's state when they found him at a telephone booth, dead. Images of his funeral and crying family dominated his mind. He realized that he was not avenging for his friend. He was simply trying to take out his hatred.

And the thought that his lieutenant saw him like a monster sent a pang of regret straight to his chest.

He made her experience something horrible… again.

His feet finally gave out under him, sending him on the floor. He thought that he looked so helpless, so vulnerable. For a while, he envied his lieutenant for always being composed in every situation.

What he saw next made his eyes go wide with disbelief.

His lieutenant—the perfect soldier of the military—collapsed in front of him with a look of relief and fear. Her face looked so tired and tears were threatening to spill out from her eyes. Another pang of pain struck his chest upon seeing her state.

Seeing her there on the floor, looking as helpless as he, made him reflect on his feelings toward her and her feelings toward him.

Love is not all about sweet words, promises of being there forever and material things. Love is shown not in words, but in deeds. Her disobeying his order shows that submission is not love. Sometimes, refusing the request of the other may be the only way of loving the person in a situation, if satisfying it would bring harm to the person.

He is not perfect. Neither his lieutenant. There is no such thing as a perfect soldier, nor is there such thing as a perfect love. Everything in this world is not perfect… that's why it's so damn beautiful.

"Will you follow me?"

"If you wish, even in the depths of hell."

-END