Something written while I was reflecting on the significance of the opening lines. Enjoy!
"It's a horrible day for rain."
"What? But it's not raining…"
"Yes…it is."
"…We should go soon…It's starting to get chilly."
It seemed as if they'd exchanged those words ages ago when in fact, it had only been a few months.
In those few months…everything had gone to hell. Hughes had died, as had several thousands upon thousands of others…all for the making of one, tiny stone that had backfired and fused with the younger brother, Alphonse Elric. And now…now it was coming down everywhere you looked. Those poor boys…they didn't deserve what they'd been through.
No one did.
Especially not them, not Ed, not Al, not Hughes or his family…and not Riza. If he could go back in time and change one thing, it would've been his choice to get her involved in this mess. Maybe then she wouldn't have had to sacrifice all her time and sanity for some useless cause, a false justice, and whatever bullshit the furher wanted them to swallow.
Tonight would be his revenge. Tonight, everyone's deaths, every soul's sacrifice would be avenged. All that needed to be done to restore the balance in the world would be done tonight.
It was the Principle of Equivalent Exchange, the code all alchemists, all organisms lived by. You couldn't cause all this crap without expecting crap to happen to you.
And that was why Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, stood on the steps leading up to the door of the Fuehrer's home.
She didn't understand how it had come to this. Even after all that had happened—Alphonse becoming the Philosopher's Stone, the Elric brothers' manhunt, the "sacrifice" of several thousands upon thousands of Ishbalan and Liorian villagers and State soldiers and alchemists—it just didn't comprehend.
Why? Why was the sky aflame, the red, the orange, the dark blue? Why didn't it seem wrong?
Why was Mustang lying in a bloody heap on the Fuehrer's front step? What wasn't he moving? Why was she running towards him, screaming his name, knowing he wouldn't hear her, knowing he was already unconscious…or worse.
She landed roughly next to him. A crimson river's flow increased as she cradled his head in her lap. She cried over his dead body, salt water mixing with the vermillion on his cheek. Sodium, iron, oxygen, nitrogen, and trace elements.
"Hawk…eye…"
She opened her eyes to see his faint ones looking up at her.
"Mustang?"
"It's a horrible day for rain." He raised his hand, searching for her.
She held it, placing it close to her chest. "It's not raining."
Another tear landed on his cheek. "Yes…it is."
Her tears increased in frequency as she leaned closer to his face. "We should go soon. It's starting to get chilly."
She kissed him, under the blazing, cloudless sky on the summer night. It burned and burned and burned until it could burn no more.