Summary: The Führer finally has a day off he plans to spend leisurely with his beloved wife when he hears of Maes' behavior in kindergarten. What did his son get into? Post-manga. Royai.
Disclaimer: All characters (except for Maes and Elizabeth) belong to Hiromu Arakawa.
Please enjoy!
The loud ringing of the telephone startled the not-so-young father, causing him to spill coffee out of a mug he was just about to bring to his lips. He grumbled a little, using his sleeve as a makeshift rag, and stood from the dining table, answering the call.
"Good morning, Roy Mustang speaking?"
"Good morning, Linda Goodwill speaking. Is this Riza Mustang's residence?"
His obsidian eyes darted back to the stairwell he was currently standing beside. Hadn't he heard Riza return after bringing Maes to kindergarten?
"She's my wife," he answered. "Did anything happen to her?"
"Oh no," the woman reassured him, her voice soothing the fears that crept up the Führer's neck, "it's about her son, or your son, for that mat-"
"Is he hurt?!"
"No, I mean, not really. Mr. Mustang, Maes had been involved in a fight today. Nothing serious happened to the boys, just some scratches, but I really need to talk to you about that behavior. We do not tolerate fights and should this ever occur again-"
"Yes, I understand," he interrupted her, a little bit too loudly, to which the woman snorted.
"Please be kind enough to come pick up Maes as soon as possible. For today, he will be suspended from kindergarten. Are you able to pick him up now?"
Roy cast a side glance at his wrist watch. 10 am. Riza had just come back from bringing Elizabeth to spend the day with her great-grandfather and she hardly got any sleep last night. She most likely had crashed in their bedroom and it would be cruel to wake her. He sighed – so much for his well awaited day-off and the romantic lunch he planned. Halfheartedly, he grabbed a piece of paper to leave Riza a short message.
"Yes. I'm on my way."
Luckily, the traffic had been merciful and Roy had been able to arrive at Maes' school in 10 minutes. In a way, he was glad that it was his day-off: He wasn't wearing his uniform and so less children were likely to recognize him and to tell their parents about him. Whatever may have happened, he didn't need to make it worse for his son.
Finally, he arrived at the building and made his way to the staff room quickly, knocking on the door three times. The door immediately opened and a head with short, curly red hair stuck out of the room.
"How may I help you?"
"Good morning, my name is Roy Mustang. I have been called for my son, Maes Mustang."
"Ah, yes yes, one moment please," the red-head answered, closing the door in his face. Roy raised his brow, a little taken aback by the impolite behavior, but was startled as the door opened in front of him again.
"Oh I'm so sorry, Mr. Führer, sir," the red-head now apologized, bowing deeply in front of Roy. "I will personally bring you to Miss Goodwell's room!"
"Please," Roy raised his hand to his hair, combing it back as it was his new everyday look since he had become Führer, "I do not want to cause you any inconvenience. You can just tell me the room number-"
"No, no, no! That's no problem at all, Mr. Führer, sir! Please, follow me."
Roy sighed in defeat and followed the petite woman up two flights of stairs and into a narrow hallway, before she came to a halt in front of a door. He recognized it as Maes' home-room: paintings of little kittens were plastered all over it and he noted with pride that his son's painting sporting a kitten curled up on the back of a dog who strikingly resembled Black Hayate hung in the middle, right under the inscription 'Cat group'. He smiled as he remembered Maes being disappointed after being sorted into the cat group instead of the dog group, but before he could fully trigger the memory, his guide had already opened the door and announced his arrival.
"Miss Goodwill, Mr. Mustang arrived. The Mr. Mustang, as in Führer Mustang, the-"
"I'm sure Miss Goodwill understands what you are implying, Miss-?"
"Stratford, sir!"
"Miss Stratford," he repeated with a smile. Sometimes it surprised himself he still had that effect on women although he didn't need to keep his playboy charade anymore. "Miss Goodwell and I can figure this out on our own."
"You, Miss Goodwell and me."
Roy whirled his head into the direction of the voice. It belonged to a tall, grumpy looking woman. Her blonde hair fell straight around her shoulders, her lips pursed and her hands grasping the shoulders of a young boy, hair just as blonde as his mother's, but his face wore a smug expression. And a couple of seats next to him –
"Papa!" The next thing Roy knew was the heavy weight that burrowed into his lower abdomen, the tiny hands, that encircled his waist and the faint feeling of his shirt starting to wet.
"Maes, are you alright?" He gingerly touched his shoulders, pushing him away slightly to look into his caramel eyes.
His eyes were glistening, fresh tears producing in the corner of his eyes. His left brow was partially concealed by a plaster and a purple bruise was starting to show on his cheekbone. The Führer's face softened, his hand running through the smooth, dark locks of his son to comfort him.
"It's okay Maes, papa's got you, everything will be okay."
"Okay? Okay? Your excuse of a son picked up a fight with my poor little Luke! He punched my baby in the face!" She cradled her son against her bosom, nearly choking him. "I demand compensation! And that from the Führer's son! What a disgrace."
"Hold on a second."
Roy's brow twitched dangerously and he had to bite back the insult that crept climbing his tongue.
"Miss Goodwell, would you care to enlighten me on today's events?"
"Why yes, of course. The children were playing together outside. I saw Maes and Luke together, talking. And then out of the blue, Maes punched him and a large fight ensued between them. I could hardly separate them before other kids wanted to join the fighting. Of course, I tried to ask him, but he wouldn't answer me."
Roy looked down to the boy on his lap. By now, they had taken one of the seats across from Maes' teacher. The young boy hung his head and Roy knew that what the teacher just told him must have been the truth. He sighed, his hand patting Maes' head again.
"It's true, isn't it? Why did you do that, Maes?"
The boy fidgeted on his father's lap, playing with his own hands. Finally, his voice resounded softly.
"Luke said something mean. He always tells me that mama and papa don't love me because mama has to take care of Lizzy and papa has to spend his time in the office. But I know that mama and papa love me and I always tell him to stop. But today, he wouldn't stop, so..."
"See?!"
Roy sighed inwardly. The harpy reawakened.
"He admitted that he hit my poor baby boy! I demand compensation! Compensation! The Führer has enough –"
"Is that true, Luke?" Miss Goodwill's clear voice cut through the enraged screaming of Luke's mother, Mrs. O'Connell, who huffed indignantly, but turned her eyes to her son, mirroring the actions of the other adults. Now it was Luke's turn to twitch in his mother's lap. He shot his mother a quick glance before looking Maes straight into the eye.
"It's the truth! Most of the time, his great-grandpa or his grandma fetch him from school. I barely see his mom around and it's the first time I even see his dad. They can't love him if they don't come to Kindergarten for him!"
Roy's obsidian eyes hardened. He eyed the kid in front of him, speechless.
"Oh please, what harm can words do? My Luke is a loud-mouth, he talks without thinking about it. But hitting another child is –"
"Is not correct," Roy agreed with her, eyes closed. He had to take some deep breaths to steady himself. "But do not think that words have no power. Words are powerful. Sometimes, they wound deeper than a punch could. Your son tried to persuade my son into believing he's not loved by his parents. I assure you, he's my pride and joy. I couldn't be prouder of him."
He let his son slide from his lap, grasping his small, soft hand, and bowed a little to Miss Goodwell.
"Thank you for calling me. I will have a word with Maes about that. As for you, Mrs. O'Connell," his eyes darkened again and he realized with a smirk that she winced. "I'm proud that he's waited so long before punching your son. Instead of asking for compensation, you should teach your son some respect, for his elders and for his comrades. I do not wish to hear my son doubt my love to him again because of your son. Have a nice day."
With that, he tugged Maes along, marching wordlessly out of the room and building.
"Papa, are you angry with me?"
It had been five minutes since they had left the building and for the whole walk, Roy had not uttered a syllable. Now he stopped, looking down at his son for a few seconds, before a smile spread onto his face. He knelt down, stretching his arms towards his son who took the invitation happily and let himself be carried around.
"Just a little, Maes. You should know, violence is not the answer. What this boy told you must have hurt you a lot, but please, come to us and talk to us about it." He paused, afraid to ask the next question.
"Did you believe Luke?"
Roy felt Maes bury his face in the crook of his father's neck, cuddling into him. The little boy answered a little hesitantly.
"... a little. He told me every day since last week. And when I wanted to show you my new painting of Hayate, uncle Havoc called you and you had to go back to work and you did not look at it at all."
He sighed a little bit, his tiny fingers curling into the starched shirt of his father.
"And since Lizzy's there, mama is always so tired and I spend a lot time at great-grandpa's... Papa?"
Roy had halted, deep in thought. He didn't realize that Luke had a point – he did spend too little time with his son. He had underestimated his need of reassurement. He was a little, 4-year-old child after all.
"You know what, Maes? Mama brought Lizzy to great-grandpa. Mama's really tired again, so we'll let her sleep. But the two of us will spend the rest of the day together, how does that sound?"
The corners of his mouth curled up as he saw his son's genuine grin spread across his face.
"And tomorrow at work, I'll try to reschedule some of my appointments. Maybe I'll be able to spend the entire weekend just with you, mama and Elizabeth. How does that sound?"
"Really?"
The brown eyes, clearly his mother's, filled with hope as he observed Roy's obsidian eyes, now again filled with love and passion for his son, the rage against Luke and his mother forgotten.
"Of course. I can't promise, but I'll try my best. And if it doesn't work out, you'll come meet me between my appointments and show me all those pretty portraits of Hayate. Is it a deal?"
"Deal!"
Roy pecked his son's cheek softly, earning a soft giggle before he settled into the crook of his neck again. They walked a little bit in silence, when Roy heard the soft voice of his son saying something that made his insides glow with happiness.
"Papa?"
"Hm?"
"I love you."
