Royai one-shot

day 6 prompt: Memories

disclaimer: nope, I don't own one thing.

Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye opened the door of the Fuhrer's office, and stopped short when she saw her commanding officer. Instinctively she saluted. "General," she said respectfully.

He blinked, and then nodded. "Lieutenant. I didn't know you had a meeting scheduled with the Fuhrer," he said calmly, stepping past her and into the room, saluting the Fuhrer, who sat at his desk, watching the two of them with a rather amused expression on his face. Riza couldn't help but wonder if Grumman had planned this, and thought it was pretty likely.

"The Fuhrer had wanted to speak to me about something," Riza said, shooting the man a look. His smile grew wider, and she knew that his eyes were probably twinkling behind his glasses.

As she did so, Riza was reminded of another time that she hadn't been expecting to see Roy . . . It had been about sixteen years ago, a thought that made Riza feel old. She sighed as the bittersweet memories flooded her mind. They'd been so young then . . .

Riza stared in surprise at the young man standing before her, dressed in military uniform with a black trench coat over it. "Mr. Mustang?" she whispered, her heart lurching. Five years had passed since she'd last seen him, and there was no small change in his appearance. His eyes, which had always been serious, no longer showed any of the youthful exuberance they once had, and he looked - without a doubt- very handsome. It had been quite a while since Riza really thought about him, but just seeing him again . . .

Roy blinked in surprise, and his eys flitted over her, making Riza blush. Alright, so maybe they'd both changed.

After a second he bowed slightly. "Ms. Hawkeye," he said politely. "I came to pay your father a visit. I was passing by, and I'd heard he was sick, so I wanted to pay him a quick visit if that's alright with you."

Riza nodded. "Of course Mr. Mustang. Please come in, and I'll go check if my father is well enough to see you." She stepped aside, allowing Roy to come in, and then closed the door behind him, leaving the way to the kitchen. "Wait here, I'll be right back."

Riza hurried up the stairs to her father's room, and knocked on the door. "Father, Roy Mustang is here, and he wants to speak with you," she called, and then paused, hoping that her father was awake to answer her. Maybe some company would do him good, especially the company of his favorite student. Sure he'd kicked Roy out once he started thinking of joining the military, but still, Roy was the student who lasted the longest.

"I'll speak with him then. Send him up," her father said wearily. His voice was hoarse, and it cracked a couple of times. Riza made a mental note to get her father a glass of water after he talked to Roy.

She hurried back down the stairs to where Roy was waiting. He was standing and looking at some of the pictures on the kitchen wall, and Riza realized he was looking at the one of him and her father. For whatever reason, Berthold Hawkeye insisted on having a picture taken of each apprentice he took on, although some of those pictures had since been burned in her father's anger.

"Mr. Mustang, my father will see you," Riza said politely. "Do you remember where his room is?"

Roy nodded. "Yes, thank you Ms. Hawkeye," he murmured. Riza watched as he headed up the stairs, and half wished that she could follow, but then, almost against her will, she went back to her usual routine for the day.

Roy sighed in relief as he walked up the stairs. He'd thought for sure that Riza would insist on coming with him, but although her brown eyes had been curious, she'd just watched as he passed her.

Roy stopped in front of his former teacher's door and knocked softly. "Hawkeye Sensei?" he called.

"Come in Roy." Roy winced at the hoarse sound of his teacher's voice, then opened the door and stepped inside the room.

If he'd thought it was bad when he heard Berthold Hawkeye's voice, it became clear that it was much worse when he saw the man. He was sitting at his desk, writing, but although that was not unusual, his form certainly was. He was hunched over, as though in pain, and his gaunt face and ragged breathing made Roy wonder whether or not he'd been eating at all. Sure Riza would make him food, but that man was an Alchemist. If he didn't want to eat than it was a simple matter of the using Alchemy to make the food into something else that was just as simple.

"So you became a soldier after all, Roy," his Sensei murmured, although he'd given no other indication that he knew Roy was in the room.

"Yes, Sensei," Roy replied respectfully. It was very likely that even in his weakened condition the older Alchemist could do a lot of damage, and Roy didn't want to give him a reason to do so. "Though eventually I would like to take the qualification test to become a state alchemist and serve my country that way."

His Sensei was quiet for a moment, and Roy stood, tense, as he waited for a response.

Berthold sighed. "As I thought, it's still too early for you to be "the Flame Alchemist.'" His eyes were cold, and Roy winced as he remembered the look from his days as the man's student.

"Still? Is it? In the end you've only taught me the basics of Alchemy up 'til now," Roy protested.

"Of course," Berthold said coldly. "It's a waste to teach someone who would degrade himself by becoming a dog of the military even the fundamental concepts." Roy could hear the bitterness in the man's voice, and almost felt guilty, but what did he have to be guilty about?

"'Alchemy is for the people'- is it?" Roy said wryly. "Sensei, I think that being useful to the military is linked to being useful to the people. Now that we are exposed to threats from the surrounding countries, strengthening the military is most urgent. To protect the nation, Alchemy is-"

"I'm tired of listening to those secondhand opinions," Berthold snapped, interrupting Roy without even pausing.

Roy stared at his Sensei for a moment, frustrated, and then took a deep breath. "Sensei . . . To think if I had as much knowledge as you it would be easy to take the state qualification. Honestly, I find it unbearable that someone of your caliber is smoldering in such destitution. If you take the state qualification and accept the issued research funds, your research would also go even further-"

"There's no need for that," Berthold interrupted again, setting his pen down on his desk. "My research was perfected a long time ago. It is the strongest kind of Alchemy. Depending on how it's used, it can also become the most deadly. Because of that, I became satisfied. Alchemists are living beings who, as long as they are alive, cannot go on without seeking truth. When they stop their thinking, the 'Alchemist,' dies. That is why I am a human who died a long time ago," the man said, glancing up at Roy with shadowed eyes and a not completely sane smile.

"Please don't say such things," Roy pleaded. "If you would just use that power for the world . . ."

"Power . . ." Berthold whispered. "So you want power Roy?" All of a sudden the old man started coughing, and Roy was alarmed to see blood staining his lips as he curled in on himself.

"Sensei!" he yelled, lunging forward as his older teacher crumpled to the ground. "Sensei!"

"Since I saw your growth . . . With my own eyes . . . I thought of bestowing it on you," Berthold said roughly, his breathing even more dragged than before. He was trembling, Roy noted with horror. "What a pity . . . Don't have any time left to teach you."

Roy gasped. "Wha-"

"But my research . . . My daughter knows it all . . ." Berthold murmured, his voice growing even fainter as he pressed on. "If you're saying you will use my Alchemy . . . My power in the correct way, she will probably present the secret to you . . . I'm sorry," he added, slumping even more as his strength left him.

Roy gripped his former teacher's shoulder. "Please, get a hold of yourself!" he shouted, but Berthold kept going, half delirious.

"I was so immersed in my research I couldn't do anything for you. I'm sorry, Riza."

"Sensei!" Roy yelled again frantically. "Hawkeye Sensei!"

"Roy . . ." By now his Sensei's voice was so faint that Roy could hardly hear it. "I'll leave my daughter to you . . . Please . . . Please . . . Please . . ." All of a sudden Berthold fell silent, and for a heartbeat Roy was sure he was going to continue, but he didn't.

"Someone . . . someone call a doctor!" Roy yelled, hoping that either Riza was still downstairs, or there was someone else, anyone else nearby. "Is anyone here?!"

The door opened suddenly, revealing Riza, who looked like she'd been thinking about knocking but had changed her mind when she heard the yelling. Roy was trying to heave Berthold up, but he couldn't even tell if the man was breathing, and he was heavier than he should have been for a man with so little weight on him. "Riza!" Roy grunted.

Riza's face went completely white at the sight of her father, and in a second she was kneeling next to him. Roy decided that his former teacher was in good hands and went for the phone.

Riza stood in front of the fresh grave, wishing that the ache of sadness she felt would go away. She glanced at the man who was standing next to her, and then back to the grave. "I'm sorry Mr. Mustang," she said softly. "Having you take care of everything, even up to my father's funeral . . ." She trailed off. It had pained her to let the man do all he'd done, but it was hard to argue with someone who would do it whether or not you wanted him to.

"You don't have to worry about it," Roy said firmly. "As a student I would have done anything for my teacher. Don't you have any family, or relatives?" he added, glancing at Riza.

She sighed. "My mother's been dead for a long time, and both of my parents seem to have been estranged from their families, so I've never heard them talk of any relatives," she explained.

Roy nodded. "What will you do from now on?" he asked.

Riza hesitated. "I'll think about it," she murmured. "Fortunately my father at least made me go to school properly . . . I think I'll be able to live on my own somehow." She wasn't honestly sure what she wanted to do, but she wasn't about to let Roy know that. He'd already done so much, and it was very likely that he would try and do even more.

He didn't seem convinced, but accepted it. "I see." He pulled out a card and handed it to her. "If anything happens you can visit the military authorities anytime. I'll probably be in the military for life," he added calmly.

Riza started a little as she took the card and looked it over. "For life?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," Roy said, his voice slightly distant.

A chill ran down Riza's spine as she realized that what Roy said could have a darker meaning. Quickly she turned to him. "Please don't die," she said, stumbling over her words.

Roy looked startled. "Don't say such ominous things!" he said quickly, but then sighed. "I can't guarantee it, because in this occupation, someday I might just die on the side of the road like a piece of trash. Even so, if I could become one of this country's foundation stones and be able to protect everyone with these hands I think I'll be happy," Roy murmured.

Riza stared at her old friend and suddenly felt the gap between them like nothing else. Five years apart had matured him so that he was no longer the boy who had kissed her before leaving to join the army. Here was a man who was willing to protect his country and die along the way.

"That's the reason why I learned Alchemy," Roy continued, "but . . . In the end, I wasn't able to be taught master's secrets." Suddenly Roy seemed embarrassed, and he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away from Riza. "Sorry, I ended up speaking of my naive dream," he muttered.

"No," Riza said, looking at the grave by her feet. "I think it's a wonderful dream." She had a feeling her father was telling her something, and even if he wasn't, she was going to take a chance with the one person she had left in the world.

Riza sighed as she walked down the hall away from the Fuhrer's office. In the sixteen years that had passed from that moment, so many things had happened that it was hard to keep track of something like that, which seemed so small, but had changed her life like nothing else.

That was the day she made her decision to join the military and protect Roy Mustang with her life. That was the day that she'd committed herself to his cause.

That was also the day that she'd become positive that she loved him.

Memories really were strange things.

ah . . . . Yes I have completed it.

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