C: Enjoy. Thanks for all the encouragement. :D I don't know if you saw my other fic, but I mentioned there that it might take me a while to update anything...but expect me at least once a month. C: Sorry. :C
"You know, if Rebecca were here, she'd be telling you to keep your chin up, Riza," Jean said quietly, so that only Riza could hear him over the roar of the engine of the army jeep they were in, en route to Ishval.
The death toll and property damage had escalated and soldiers were going MIA left and right. Seven years into the Ishval Rebellion and now war was raging. It was said that the Ishvallans were obstinate, refusing to surrender. It was also said that the Amestrian army's attempts on peace negotiations have all failed. Many people around Amestris questioned the effort put into those attempts, though no one really spoke up.
The lack of soldiers prompted the early deployment of exceptional students in the academy, and Riza and Jean happened to be the top marksmen- well, markswoman and marksman- in their class. They were a total of twenty, with ages ranging from as young as eighteen to twenty-four. It had soon dawned to most of them that they were entering the war zone, and were virtually going to be on the front lines.
Barely nineteen years old, Riza looked up and smiled nervously at Havoc. She was the first in her class, nicknamed the "Hawk's eye". She was also the only woman in their platoon of snipers. It had taken her almost two years, but now she was respected by all her class. Jean had come in fourth, not too shabbily, even with the easygoing attitude that got him into trouble more than once.
Though she was dreading the idea of shooting down an actual living human being (as everyone else certainly was), she was also worried about seeing a certain someone. Some of the State Alchemists had been recently called in to assist in the rehabilitation and repair of the war damage, and that essentially could mean Roy.
Roy. She had been following his progress, mostly through the gossip network. He was making a name for himself as the youngest State Alchemist to date. Actually, he was more like a celebrity. She had heard through the grapevine that he showed potential as a great commander, but had a bad habit of womanizing, apparently learnt from General Grumman of East command who was notorious as a lady-killer in his day, or so she heard. She had wanted to find him again, but she was nervous- he seemed like a drastically different person with what everyone said about him, compared to the Roy she had known. Or had she really known him? What would she find when she met him again?
It was completely irrational. Here she was, going to war, and all she could think about was Roy. She probably only liked him because of proximity- not like she'd met a lot of boys in her early teenage years, much less hung out with any. She loved him, if only because she was starved for attention back in those days. And he gave it to her. But he was her first love, and she couldn't forget about it just like that.
Finally, Riza sighed, and shook her head, as if to rid herself of thoughts about him. She did as Rebecca would have said, and lifted her chin up. She had to be professional.
#
Their orders were to come in whenever a platoon claimed an area Ishvallan-free and to guard the perimeter.
By now even the most happy-go-lucky of their bunch found himself unsmiling. Jean Havoc surveyed the area for any sign of the rebellious race before turning to his right, to the woman on her stomach just a few feet away from him. Riza had set up nest on the same roof building Jean had chosen.
"Don't get distracted Havoc," she abruptly spoke up, just as he opened his mouth. She had one eye closed, the other looking through the scope attached to her pristine rifle.
"I...but Hawkeye...can we really do this?"
She remained silent for a while, before replying in a low voice: "It's our duty to Amestris".
That's when they heard the gunshot. Things had been eerily peaceful since they'd arrived, and so both Jean and Riza snapped to attention. There was a large group of Ishvallan men approaching the perimeter, apparently armed. "We've come to take back our home!" the one who seemed like their leader roared. Without even shifting, Riza pulled the trigger.
The head of the bunch dropped down as blood spurted out from between his red eyes. The men next to him scrambled to take cover among ruins and exchanged bullets with the foot soldiers patrolling the area, but Havoc and the rest of the snipers were ready. After about fifteen seconds of deafening gunfire, an eerie silence fell over the scene. Nobody celebrated. The Ishvallan was right. This was their home. Why were they being driven away from it?
The day continued in a blur, Riza's sniping unit getting assigned to more serious situations. Thirty two- she hadn't lost count of her kills, but she wasn't sure if that was a good thing.
So far she was feeling fine. Some of the first timers looked sick as the realization of having killed somebody, a living person. To Riza, it just felt...surreal. Like a dream. Or a nightmare, that she hadn't awakened from yet.
The sun was setting, and the Amestrian military had just taken another small town. She and Jean had an unspoken agreement to set up near each other every time they moved, and presently she was listening to his breaths, slightly panting, distressed.
"Hey," he started to say, his voice rough. "The sun's gone." So were the lives of a ton of Ishvallan men.
Riza was already swinging her gun over her shoulder. There was nothing a sniper could really shoot at night, so they'd been instructed to just proceed back to the campsite when the sun set. She walked in the direction of stairs that would lead to the lower floors.
"How can you be so calm?" Havoc's voice rose as he did. "Those were fathers, brothers, sons of some people." Riza didn't know which one was clenched tighter- his jaw or his fists.
"Don't you think I realized that? But this is war, Jean. What did you expect?" Riza fought to keep her tone even, matching Jean's intense expression with a piercing look of her own.
"I...I don't know." Jean's blue eyes suddenly looked tired and resigned, and Riza wondered if hers were the same way. "But..." He shook his head and wiped at his dusty face with his the back of his left hand. "I need...time alone. Would...you mind going...ahead?"
Riza nodded and had just stepped into the building (to take the stairs down) when she heard the low sobs, similar to growling. Jean was being naïve, she thought to herself as she descended the staircase. But as soon as she stepped onto the landing, as soon as she was alone and out of anyone's hearing distance- she felt her face crumple up and an ugly sob leave her mouth. She pressed her fist against her lips, but it didn't stop. She fell to her knees, her rifle clattering onto the ground beside her. Her heart hurt and she shuddered in the biting cold. The escaping sobs left a hollow space in her chest, but trying to keep it in hurt inexplicably worse. And so she continued to sob into her dirty uniform sleeve.
#
Roy unsmilingly surveyed the destruction around him. He had been deployed, along with many other state alchemists, to help fix the war sites and machinery that had been destroyed in the midst of battle. As he chalked an alchemic circle onto the ground, he sighed. "Why must all this destruction even happen?" He questioned to nobody in particular.
His heart was heavy as he took in the sight of the bodies. Casualties of war. But he'd forged on. By the end of the day he was feeling more worn out than he had ever been in his life. He barely had the strength to greet Maes Hughes, whom he hadn't talked to since Roy's transfer to the East. They'd caught sight of each other in the morning, before they had to work.
"Hey." Hughes greeted, plopping down in front of a fire onto the space next to Roy. "I bet everyone here loves a convenient matchstick, huh?" he said, referring to Roy's ability.
"It's the least I could do for the soldiers on a cold night like this. Sometimes I just wish..." he glanced to the hospital tent to his left, "...my alchemy could help heal."
"Physical or emotional wounds?"
"Both." Roy grimaced. "Things have been harsh on you guys," he stated.
"It's been almost seven years, Roy. I've been in the fifth infantry for two of them..."
"How do you find it in yourself to actually...pull the trigger?"
Maes frowned. "Don't judge me, Roy. It's either kill or be killed here. I'm into self-preservation. Besides, you're here. You won't leave guilt-free." The words hung heavily in the air. An awkward silence passed, Roy looking at his dusty boots.
"But let's not fight, Roy. I want to know what you've been up to. I need a distraction," Maes finally spoke, massaging his forehead as if to soothe a headache.
Roy looked up in surprise. "Well...last week I received my summons to Ishval. They told me to come here and await further instructions."
"How's Madame Christmas?"
"I haven't been to Central since graduation, but the girls write to me sometimes."
"And the future Mrs. Mustang?"
Roy glanced at him, perplexed. "Future Mrs. What?"
"You got a girlfriend or something?" Hughes clarified, smiling. The previous tension in the air disappeared almost completely.
"No, I-"
"Well I can't wait until you meet the future Mrs. Hughes! Her name's Gracia, and she agreed to wait for me! In fact, she even sends me letters! Here's a picture..." Hughes carefully extracted a photo from his jacket pocket.
"How can you be so sure?" Roy asked, baffled, but feeling his spirits lifted up in happiness for his friend. "Just don't disappoint her by not showing up," he advised.
"I'll try not to." Hughes grinned. But once this is over, I'm setting you up with a girl. Based on what I've heard about you through the grapevine, you're in serious need of a real girlfriend."
"Oh?" Roy raised an eyebrow. "What have you heard about me?"
"Well, you've been making a name for yourself, Major Mustang." Hughes' grin widened. "Youngest ever state alchemist?"
Roy couldn't help but grin. He was particularly proud of that. There weren't many gifted alchemists under the age of twenty five, and he had received his license barely two years ago, at twenty one. He would go down in history as the youngest state alchemist ever.
"I've also heard that you've stolen the hearts of all the women in East command," Hughes continued.
Roy had the decency to frown and deny it. "That isn't true."
Hughes let out a hoot of laughter. "Didn't I tell you? You know, you should use this to your advantage. Being known as a lady-killer might have its advantages."
"I'll remember that, Maes," Roy smiled. He missed the academy. Work was fun...just...more serious. He remembered complaining as a student, and couldn't imagine what he had to complain about then.
"The new recruits came in today, right after you. Can you believe they're sending out students now?" Maes asked him disbelievingly.
Roy shook his head, agreeing with his friend. There was a kid next in line to him at the ration tent. He was Roy's age, but Roy considered himself an exception. At least he had graduated.
"Just how does the government justify sending under-qualified soldiers here? The youngest ones are the snipers. They sent the second years, saying that they wouldn't actually be on the front lines. There are actual teenagers in the camp right now, you know." Maes's frown deepened.
Roy's mind went to the one teenager he knew- Riza. Riza Hawkeye would be what? Nineteen right now? He wondered what had happened to her after she'd given him her father's secrets. She'd stopped writing letters, just as she had when he'd left her home so many years ago. Roy had even written Chris about her, but Chris assured him that Riza was okay. She had found her own living space and visited sometimes.
Roy hoped she wouldn't hear about this. His deployment. He was now in the battlefield. Sure he'd expected he'd have to be here one day but he didn't think it would be so soon. Three years into the Ishval civil war...everyone thought it would end. But it stretched on, and now was on its seventh year. Roy hoped the Ishvallans would surrender soon. So the nightmare would end just as soon.