Chapter 3: Raspberries

A thin ray of sunlight fell across the page of Roy's book and he reached up to adjust the curtains for what had to have been the hundredth time in as many minutes. Closing the window had stopped the pages of his book from fluttering but the room was unbearably stuffy and nothing he did could shut out the sun completely. It was a beautiful day outside, making it nearly impossible to concentrate on the dusty tome in front of him. Looking at his notes, he let out a sigh. Hawkeye had taught him only a little over the course of his first week of study, preferring to leave Roy to decipher the yellowing pages of an old journal.

He stretched and stood. Riza would be making lunch soon and he wondered if she wanted help. It hardly seemed fair for her to cook every meal, and while it wasn't his place to insist the master took a turn, he saw nothing wrong with offering his own assistance. As he closed the book, he heard a knock. "Come in," he said, turning his head as Riza opened the door.

"I was just wondering if you were hungry," she said, looking at the floor.

Roy stood. "I am. Would you like some help?"

"Thanks for offering, but I already made sandwiches," she said, lifting her eyes but not quite meeting his. "Would you like me to bring one up to you, or do you need a break from studying?"

"I've been starting at this for so long, I'm not entirely sure I can read anymore," he said, stretching. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about the code in that book, would you?"

She shook her head. "I don't really know anything about alchemy. I've never wanted to."

"Why not?" He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. No one talked to her because they were scared of her father—why would she want to make things worse by making them scared of her?

"I would rather not discuss that, if you don't mind." Riza shoved her hands into the pockets on her apron, clenching them as she did.

"I'm sorry," he said gently. He had hardly seen her the entire week and now he had upset her. Of course the Master's kid had to be a girl. He could have befriended another boy easily, but he had always been so nervous around girls. He wanted to talk to them and yet he had heard them whispering behind his back in Central, saying he was too rigid and questioning his heritage and his association with Christmas's girls. Maybe, he realized, that's something I can talk to Riza about; it's something we have in common, at any rate.

Looking down again, she said, "You don't have to apologize." She turned to leave and Roy got to his feet.

"But I made you uncomfortable," he protested, following her out of the room. "And I didn't mean to. I wasn't thinking and I keep putting my foot in my mouth every time I try to talk to you. At least most of the time, I don't even have the nerve to say anything at all."

Riza stopped. "Do you mean that you've actually wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah," he replied sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. "But apart from thanking you for cooking, I never knew what to say because I was scared of offending you."

Slowly, she turned to face him, though her eyes were still fixed on the floor. "That's kind of you," she said sadly. "No one's ever worried about that before."

"The way I see it, we're both stuck here, and it would be nice to have a friend, so if you want, we could—"

"You want to be my friend?" she interrupted, meeting his eyes for the first time. The force of her gaze surprised Roy.

"Of course I do." He scratched the back of his neck, hoping his face wasn't as red as it felt. "You could certainly use someone, and I'm not exactly popular either. I know how it feels to be treated differently because of my family."

She was smiling again, and her eyes were shining. "I've always wanted a friend, but I was starting to think no one would ever like me."

"Just because the people around here are idiots doesn't mean everyone is. You aren't going to be trapped here forever, you know. I'm sure once you leave, you'll find lots of friends."

"You haven't."

Roy winced; he knew Riza hadn't meant to be rude, that it made sense for the long years without practice speaking to others her age to have resulted in her terseness. Even so, the words stung. "Well, things are different for me. In Central, alchemists are respected. But it's a different story for quiet orphan boys who live above bars."

Riza shrugged. "I'm not the alchemist."

Unsure of what to say, Roy tugged at his collar, wondering if he should just give her a hug. From what he had seen of Master Hawkeye, he doubted anyone had touched Riza since her mother's death, and it was hard for him to imagine a worse fate. The girls he had known in Central—at school and at the bar—had generally been openly affectionate with their friends, and his aunt had always insisted on at least ruffling his hair, even when he was adamant that he was too old for hugs from the closest person to a mother he had ever known. Riza started to turn away but before she could leave, he took a deep breath and said, "Hey, Riza, wait a second."

She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder, confused. "I thought you wanted lunch."

"I do, but first, I want to ask if, um…if you want me to…What I mean to say is, you seem so lonely that I wondered if maybe you need a hug even more than you needed a friend." Embarrassed, he added, "But I understand if you don't want me to touch you."

Blushing, Riza turned toward him. "I—I'd like that, actually. Father doesn't even seem to know I'm here half the time, and there's no one else and so…." She stepped closer and Roy felt his own face flush as he put his arms around her. She returned the embrace and they stood stiffly in each other's arms for a few moments before Roy let go, feeling uncomfortable. "Thank you," Riza whispered, and when he looked down at her, she seemed far more relaxed than she had at all in the past week.

"Any time," he replied nervously, wishing it hadn't been so awkward. After all, she was the first girl he had hugged who didn't see him as an adopted brother, and the last thing he wanted was chase her away.

"I should probably just bring your lunch up here so you can get back to studying. I don't want to waste any more of your time," Riza said, wringing her hands.

"You're not wasting my time. We're friends, remember?" He smiled and lifted a hand briefly before thinking better of it. Just because she said she wanted to be friends didn't mean he could just start patting her arm as if she were part of his family. "Besides, I've gotten everything out of that damn book I can for today. All your father wanted me to decipher this week were the basic chemical compositions for the transmutations in the journal, and I finished that three days ago."

"Why didn't you tell him then?" To Roy's relief, she sounded impressed rather than irritated.

"He said not to bother him until tomorrow because he wanted to do something important this week. I didn't really mind, though. I've been trying to understand the rest but it's been harder. I got lucky because I studied chemicals a bit in school so I knew what I was looking for."

"If you're sure you don't want to study more, would you like to pick berries after lunch? They need to be picked before the birds get them all and we're out of meat, so I'd really like your help."

"I'll do my best, but I don't really know much about berries. You'll be able to tell if I didn't get poisonous ones by mistake after I've picked them, right?"

"It shouldn't been too hard since I'm fairly certain anyone who can decrypt Father's old journals can identify raspberries."

"Oh. Right. Let's get going, then," said Roy sheepishly, putting his hands in his pockets. He followed her to the kitchen.

As they ate, he realized how little he knew about the girl sitting across from him. He had thought asking her to be his friend would be the hardest part, but now that he faced the prospect of getting to know her, he realized he wasn't sure how to go about it. She was always so blunt and yet she didn't reveal anything about herself easily. He was nearly finished with his sandwich before he dared to speak. "What do you like to do in your spare time?"

"I read a lot," she said. "There isn't really much else for me to do, especially in the winter."

"Do you have a favorite book?"

Looking down at the table, she swallowed before saying, "There's an old book of plays that Mom used to read to me sometimes; it's special to me now that she's dead."

"Have you ever seen any of them performed?"

She shook her head. "There are shows in the village sometimes, but they're almost never from the book, and I couldn't afford to go to them anyway."

"Maybe you could come with me to Central someday after we know each other better. One of the girls who used to work at the bar is an actress and she can usually find a cheap ticket or two for her friends. I'd pay for yours, of course," he added, noticing Riza's frown.

"I'd like that," she said, taking a sip of tea. "But I don't think Father would let me go with you. He'd be all alone if we both left, and even though he's always locked up in his study, he still cares about me. He'd worry too much if I were to go so far from home, even if I went with you."

Roy gave her a reassuring smile. "He can't keep you here forever, Riza. Once you're done with school, you can do whatever you want. Find a job, travel the world, leave this place and never return."

"How can you be so sure?" she said almost defensively. "You hardly know me at all."

"I'm your friend. It's my job to believe in you, isn't it?"

"I wouldn't know," Riza said wryly.

"You said you read. That's how it is in stories, so why can't it be that way in life, too?" Roy stood, picking up his plate and reaching for Riza's. "I'll wash these," he offered.

"Thank you, Mr. Mustang," she said, handing her plate and cup to him.

"How many times to I have to tell you? It's Roy."

"Alright then, Roy." His name rolled on her tongue as though it didn't quite fit yet, but it was nice to hear her say it all the same. It put them another step closer to friendship and made him feel more at home in this house.

He washed the dishes quickly and dried them before realizing he had no idea where they went. He opened his mouth to ask but Riza was already next to him, opening the cupboard above the toaster. "Thanks," he said. "For lunch, too."

"It was nothing, really," she mumbled, taking the dishes from Roy and putting them away. "Father and I had to eat anyway, and it was only fair to make something for you too."

"Well, I appreciate it all the same." He put his hands in his pockets, smiling slightly.

"You should probably get your shoes before we go. I'll wait here for you," said Riza.

Roy blinked in surprise. "What? Oh. Berries. Gotcha. I'll hurry." Upstairs, he found his shoes and carried them down to the kitchen where he found Riza leaning against the back door, holding a shotgun and a basket. She waited for him to put his shoes on before shoving the basket into his arms.

"I'm glad you're coming with me. I had hoped you would sometime."

"But last time I offered you didn't want me to come," he said, following her outside.

"I was still nervous then," she said. Her voice betrayed the fact that some of those nerves remained. "I didn't know you at all."

"You can trust me," he promised. "I would never hurt you."

"I do believe that, but there is something else…" Her fingers drummed restlessly against the barrel of her gun.

"What is it?" Roy asked.

"I don't want to scare you off. I'm not some pretty girl going for a stroll through the woods and whistling cheerfully. I'll be shooting and gutting the cute woodland creatures I'm supposed to watch adoringly." The words sounded rehearsed and Roy wondered if she had been trying to work up the courage to invite him along for several days now.

"Why the hell would that matter?"

"Because it's not normal," she said sadly. "All the boys in town call me a freak, and not just because I'm an alchemist's daughter. I wanted to make sure you liked me before you saw the side of me that isn't the dutiful daughter: cooking and cleaning and making myself scarce."

Roy shrugged. "I want to be friends with you, Riza Hawkeye—blood-thirsty killer of innocent animals or not. Besides, I can tell you don't enjoy it."

"And what makes you say that?"

"You sounded like you believe those awful things the boys say about you," Roy said.

Riza opened the gate and gestured for Roy to step through. "You're right. I don't enjoy it," she said, carefully avoiding his last statement. "Honestly, I'd rather pick berries with you, but that won't be enough to get us through the winter. It's supposed to be a bad one this year, so I'll need to dry a lot of meat, especially with another mouth to feed."

Roy felt guilty, but he wasn't sure what to say as he watched her close the gate. The day was so warm he could hardly imagine the harsh winter she seemed so sure would come. Growing up in Central, he had only seen snow a few times, and it had always melted before the end of the day. "I can pay for food if we run out. I brought my savings with me. I don't have much, but it should be enough."

"That's very kind of you, but I'm more worried about being able to leave the house. If the snow blocks the doors, you won't be able to buy food no matter how much money you have."

Looking back over his shoulder, Roy tried to picture snow high enough to lock them in. The idea was as foreign to him as it was frightening. "Does that really happen here?"

"Sometimes," said Riza. "We're nearly in the North and fairly high in the mountains as well. Last year was so mild that this year will probably be the worst we've had in a while. But don't worry. We'll make it through. We always do somehow."

He followed her through the trees, wondering how she could walk so quietly. He could hardly take a step without making enough noise to send birds flying off in all directions. He supposed it was a good thing that Riza had assigned him the task of picking raspberries rather than hunting. After a short while, they came to a creek and crossed a makeshift bridge that he suspected Riza had made herself. He was about to ask when she stopped.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She looked at him sharply, a finger over her mouth. With her other hand, she pointed toward the ground in front of her. It took a moment, but Roy realized there were large boot prints in the dirt. "So? I'm sure lots of people hunt in these woods," he whispered.

"Never this close to the house." She loaded the gun. "It looks like we're not getting any meat today."

"It's summer. Shouldn't there still be enough to go around?"

"That's not what I mean," Riza explained. "I don't know anything about this person, and I'm not going to leave you out here unarmed if there's someone bad out here."

"It's probably just someone trying to feed his family. Like you."

Riza started walking again, heading in a different direction than the prints. "I'd rather not risk it. You're my first friend ever and I won't lose you like that," she insisted. "And you're far too noisy to come with me while I hunt."

They continued in as close to silence as Roy could manage with his clumsy stride until they reached a small clearing filled with raspberry bushes. She paused at the edge, although Roy didn't notice until he ran into an arm she had held out to stop him. "What now?"

"Hold this." Riza thrust the gun into his hand and wiped her hands on her apron before scurrying up a tree. Roy looked away, wondering why she hadn't changed into pants before they left. Then again, she probably hadn't intended to climb any trees. Once she had perched on the lowest branch, she reached down and Roy passed the gun up to her. "I'm going to keep going up until I find a better place to hide. If anyone bothers you, I'll fire warning shots and hopefully they'll leave."

"Got it. So you just want me to fill the basket?"

"Yes." She pulled herself up to the next branch. "And, Roy, go ahead and eat a few. I'm willing to bet you've never had a fresh-picked berry before."

"I can't say I have," he replied, heading toward the bushes. When he looked back to the tree, Riza had gone and he started picking. Some of the berries were still purple and he decided to leave them; they could come back for them later. He put most of them in the basket, but he couldn't resist sneaking a few for himself. Even though Riza had told him to, he felt a bit guilty for it, but they were better than any he could remember having eaten. After he had filled the basket, he turned around to look at the tree again, wondering where Riza was hidden. He didn't want to call up to her and so he carried the basket to the base of the tree and held it over his head, hoping she would see.

"You were faster than I expected," she said and he moved the basket to see her crouching on the branch directly above him. "And you didn't need to hold that up. I saw you walk over." She lowered the gun down to him and he set the basket aside to take it.

"Right," he said, grinning as she let herself drop to the ground. "Just in case you had to shoot me."

Riza took the gun again. "Or save you. Let's head back and hope that whoever was out here already did." She reached into the basket and took a raspberry, popping it into her mouth before heading into the woods. Roy followed her, looking through the trees and half expecting a strange man to leap out at them.

They reached the creek once more, with nothing larger than a rabbit having crossed their path—although Roy had been very startled when Riza had shot it. He had thought her plan involved silence, but she must have felt safer after the time they had spent in the clearing. Or perhaps it had simply been a reflex because she was still on edge. Unsure and unwilling to speak and perhaps startle her into shooting him, Roy had followed her until she stopped at the edge of the creek. They stood there for several minutes, watching the water until she turned around slowly. "What's wrong?"

She stared at him for a moment before replying, "The bridge is gone."