Maintenance

By KatsyKat aka Suzi

Chapter 7 – Fated Fall


The hospital room was quiet. The volume on the heart monitor had been turned off, and although it was still registering the steady rhythm, it was no longer chiming the miraculous beating of the Colonel's heart.

Roy's nose twitched slightly in his drug-induced slumber. As if payment for his renewed awareness, his unconscious felt the need to torture him again and again with the happenings just before he almost lost his life...

It all started with a personal phone call the day before he met with Winry Rockbell...

Picking up the receiver, Roy was pleasantly surprised to find Gracia on the other line.

Before he could express his happiness over her contact, she opened with a bombshell.

"Roy, do you remember Maes talking about the Elric's friend, Winry Rockbell?"

Roy's heart slammed into his chest at the name... unbidden flashes of two smiling doctors, two lifeless corpses, and a bloody picture of a smiling young girl jumped to his mind as he brought the hand not holding the phone up to his temples.

"Yeah." He said breathlessly.

"Are you alright?" Gracia asked suddenly.

Roy cursed himself, was he THAT apparent, even over the phone?

"I'm fine. It's been a long day." He lied, forcing his heartbeat to return to normal.

"I'm sorry. I know you're very busy. And, normally I wouldn't bother you over such a little thing, but she's been here the past few days." Ah, it was the same blonde girl Roy saw at the window when he stopped over the house, he realized as Gracia continued. "It seems she wasn't aware of Maes's death until recently, and she's been quite upset."

"Is she causing trouble for you?" Roy asked, concerned.

"Oh no! Nothing like that... although honestly Riza should have prepared her before she showed up – not that I'm criticizing, mind you." Gracia added hurriedly.

Roy frowned, he was the one that had asked Hawkeye not to say anything to the Elrics, she had probably correctly deduced that telling the girl would be the same thing.

"I apologize." Roy said. After all, keeping Hughes death a secret from Fullmetal and his entourage was his direct order.

He understood that Winry, much like the Elric brothers, had gotten the father treatment from Maes. Fathering unfortunate souls was something that – while magnified once his own daughter was born – Maes had been doing for many years. Before Roy could go further down that line of thought Gracia interrupted him.

"Now-now-now, none of that. That's not at all why I called!" Gracia hurried on. "I just hate seeing her like this." Roy heard the pause as if the woman were deciding how much to divulge. "I'm not sure if you remember, but Winry stayed with us before, and although she was troubled about something at the time – she still had such a sunny disposition. During Elycia's party Maes had a talk with her that seemed to perk her up – you know how Maes was... and... well I'm just no good at those sorts of things. She was very surprised to learn of you and he's friendship. It shocked her somehow, and I thought perhaps you had met her before..." Gracia trailed off. She wasn't pushing for an answer but allowing him the opportunity to make known any contact if he desired.

"We... we've met briefly." He said softly.

"Ah, yes, good. I had wondered if you had a little time, if maybe you could... Perhaps if she spent a little time with you... it might help."

Roy jerked as he realized what she was suggesting. Gracia never said it was something Hughes would have done. She didn't have to. Roy knew it as well as she did.

And Roy would love to honor his friends memory... but insofar as actually seeking the child out.

Roy, personally, wanted nothing more than to never again lay eyes on the girl... so much like her mother.

Winry Rockbell reminded him, every second he gazed upon her – of the wide-eyed shock in her mothers eyes as she witnessed the military betray her and her husband.

Not that it was the girls fault that Roy had committed such a horrendous act... nor was it her doing that he was such a coward for not being able to face her with the truth of his sins like he planned that rainy night in Risembool.

Unbidden, his mind wandered back to that night. He wasn't a man that believed in fate – but if he were: that night would have affirmed his belief, when he first laid eyes on the Elric brothers.

He wanted to tell Winry then; her and her grandmother who were the remaining family of the doctors slain by his own hand, what had happened. He began his venture to tell them what the military had done and what he planned to do about it... to offer them the truth, if nothing else. And to press upon them how much it changed him.

At the time, idealistic man that he was, he wanted them to bear witness to his solemn vow that he would never again follow such horrendous orders. That he would become the head of the military that he now hated to prevent anything like that from happening.

But once he got to Risembool... he found that the logical side of his brain had imagined all the horrible things the Rockbell's could do once he told them – the very least of which was contact his superiors to inform them of his actions.

That would certainly lead to a dishonorable discharge if not serious jail time. Leaking out classified military information to civilians was not a light offense. It would prevent him from becoming Fuhrer, which he had vowed to do on the Rockbell's wasted lives.

That vow was the only thing that was keeping him going... keeping him half sane. He was terrified of losing that flicker of hope that one day things could be better. That he, because of what he was forced to do, could make things better.

And the Elric's attempt at human transmutation provided a much better distraction.

So like the coward he was back then, he turned so again as his attention returned to the conversation at hand.

"Honestly, Gracia, I would like to help. But I'm leaving on an extended mission tomorrow afternoon. I'm not sure when I'll be back in Central. Perhaps... when I get back I can seek her out and we can talk then."

He knew Gracia was not fooled, but she gracefully accepted his excuse.

"Of course, Roy, I understand that you're busy. I only thought..." she hesitated, "Thank you so much for taking the time to hear me out." She said in a small voice.

Assuring her it was no trouble was harder than he thought it should be. The false-sounding words wanted to stick in his throat. Hanging up the phone, after the required pleasantries were exchanged, Roy sent a half-crazed guilt-ridden thought to his deceased friend.

'If you want me to talk to her, send her to me Maes. I don't have the courage to take that step... and I can't make any promises that I'll be able to own up to anything, but if she tracks me down I promise I'll do what I can to help her overcome her grief.'

He could understand the blow Maes death was taking on the young girl.

She'd lost both her parents at a young age, and while she lived with her grandmother – she had no father figure in her life. Roy understood she spent some time with Hughes before his death.

Maes had an uncanny way of fathering everyone. He had a keen eye for understanding what people needed, and enjoyed filling in the blanks. His keen insight and desire to help people was what led him to the top of the investigative department.

Roy couldn't count the number of wonderfully insightful father-like speeches he'd received from his late friends; but he did know that each and every one of them was exactly the thing he needed. If Maes could make Roy feel a childlike appreciation of Maes ability to 'make things better' it wasn't a far stretch to understand how easy it would be for a young fatherless girl to latch onto and idolize the model father.

And so it was when Roy was skipping out early that day after being unable to get Gracia's words out of his head that he overheard the receptionist apologizing to "Miss Rockbell" that Colonel Mustang would be indisposed for the next several weeks and her request for a meeting would have to be delayed. Mustang decided that a man could only ignore so many coincidences before believing, even just a little, in fate.

Roy put a hand out for the phone. The receptionist begrudgingly offered the handset to him.

"This is Colonel Roy Mustang, how can I help you?" he said in his most suave voice.

"Ano... is this really Mr. Mustang, the Flame Alchemist?" A timid voice asked.

"Of course," he replied smoothly, ignoring her lack of title - civilians and their disregard for the military! "And would this be Miss Winry Rockbell, the mechanic for the Fullmetal Alchemist?"

The girl cleared her throat. "Yes, but Edward doesn't have anything to do with..."

"Are you free tomorrow at 8?"

There was a pause.

"In the morning?" She questioned, suddenly sounding unsure.

"Of course." He replied smoothly.

"Yes I am." She said more strongly, determined.

"Then if you would like to come to my office, we can sit down and talk then." He said, a smile playing on his lips at her resolute tone.

"Thank you." She said after a short pause.

"Not a problem. I shall look forward to seeing you then." He replied smoothly, handing the receiver back to the miffed receptionist.

Disconnecting the line she addressed him. "You have a debriefing tomorrow at 8."

"Push it back." He said with a wave of his hand as he strolled out of the office.

The woman sighed, used to, but not accepting of, the Colonel's lax appointment scheduling.

The next morning, found Roy Mustang more agitated than usual. He had shooed all his subordinates from the office with a gruff tone and an effective glare. At his insistence, even Hawkeye left with little more than a knowing look which said 'you're explaining yourself later'.

He was quite agitated about upcoming meeting. So when Winry Rockbell was escorted into his office by a cadet, watching her busy hands snatch at the edges of the purse slung across her shoulder, adjust her dress, and alternately clutch at each other, he easily attributed her actions to her nerves and nothing more.

Never did the possibility of her knowing the truth about her parents death, cross Mustang's mind. After all who could have told her that?

Roy was trying to call on whatever part of Maes spirit he could tap into to give this girl the advise she needed to move forward with her grief over his death.

Because Roy was no stranger to grief he could tell that her face was nothing if not stricken with it. You'd think her parents, dog, best friend, only sibling, and grandmother had all died that very morning. The bags under her tired eyes, and her pale skin were only two of the many tell-tale signs of sleeplessness.

Her eyes held that wild almost desperate look like a frightened bird. To Roy it seemed that perhaps she was still in the surreal stages of accepting Maes' death. It never crossed his mind that she was in the latter stages of giving up completely.

Mustang ran through the many speeches of Maes... about the 'way things are,' how you 'can't change some things' and how Maes would want her to 'carry on' with her life... so he was caught completely off guard when the girl – now seated across his desk said in a quiet but even voice.

"Are you the same flame alchemist that killed my parents in the war?" Her blue eyes gazed into his own, the skittishness of just seconds before gone completely. The orbs neither condemned nor truly questioned, simply boring into Mustangs as if daring him to lie.

Never in a hundred years had he expected that.

"Aaa." Mustang finally replied, unable to get much else past his closed throat. The fact that his immediate response wasn't to deny the accusation would have pleased him if he'd been able to see anything objectively. As it was, he was having a hard time having any rational thought beyond the suffocating guilt that crashed upon him.

She knew... she wasn't supposed to – but she did, and now what could he say? Long practiced apologies, sounding hollow, even in his own minds voice, roared in his head like the sound of thousands of people screaming. And he knew because he had heard the sound of thousands of people screaming.

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, she continued, her eyes still boring into his. "You know, I always knew I hated you."

Roy jerked, not surprised that she hated him, but surprised at the venom in her voice.

"When you showed up that night... and you dangled the military's recourses in front of an injured boy, regardless of his condition... I knew there was something... vile about the kind of person you would have to be." Her lip curled in distaste.

Mustang opened his mouth and then closed it. Vile... that was a new one.

Squirming under the woman's scorching gaze... he cursed his helplessness. He had been planning an entirely different conversation and now that his worst nightmare had come true, he found himself woefully unprepared.

What was she looking for here... an apology... for what? She went from her parents' deaths to his enlisting the Elrics? What was her line of thinking? Deciding that the Elrics were much safer territory for the moment he started there.

Roy opened his mouth...

"Ms. Rockbell, the boy that I saw that night was... broken... hopeless. I gave him hope..."

...and he inserted his foot.

"FALSE hope! You knew better!" She yelled. "You were an adult and he was just a child!"

Roy bit back the retort that she was just a child also, and still was, but he knew better than to think that would help his current situation.

"I didn't know any more than what I told them. If they really wanted to get their bodies back contacts with the military would increase their chances by allowing them better access..."

"I'm not asking you to justify it to me." She said coldly. "I know why you did it far better than they ever will."

"Oh really?" He couldn't help but challenge, his elbows settled on the desk while fingers pressing together in a thoughtful pose.

"Your power-hungry attempts to become Fuhrer are not as secret as you think." She said cryptically. "Surely one or two brilliant child alchemists couldn't have hurt your record."

Mustang bit his lip and covered it with his thumbs. While not the entire truth – it was close enough to sting.

"I really don't feel I have to justify..."

"Of course you don't!" Winry cried, cutting him off. "That's why we're having this conversation! You think you can just do whatever you want without consequence."

"Of course I don't!" He cried out, echoing her words without realizing it. His hands flew apart and slammed into the desk to accent his points. "EVERYthing we do has a PRICE.. every ACTION has an equal..."

"You alchemists and your bloody equivalent exchange, is it?!?" Her blue eyes blazed with barely contained hatred as her sarcastic words cut off Mustang's rant. "Don't you DARE quote that meaningless crap to me!"

Roy sat silently, floored by her sudden flare of emotions as Winry continued.

"I will NEVER understand that – the exchange is never equal! It's just a pretty lie to help you sleep at night... help you think that you'll always get what you put into something... A way to blame your failure on some imagined lack – instead of facing the fact that it was impossible to begin with!"

The silence stretched in the room as each occupant, assured of their correctness, stared down the other. Roy was the first to speak.

"Ms Rockbell," He tried in a soft non-threatening tone, "Equivalent exchange is a proven theory in alchemy."

"No it isn't!" She cried, "Because if it were there would be something that was equivalent to bringing someone back from the dead, wouldn't there?!?" She continued ignoring Roy's shocked expression, "But there isn't! When you take someone from somebody – they're gone. They're gone forever. There's no giving them back, no matter what you would give... They're just gone." Winry bowed her head, her hands covering her face so only her shaking shoulders betrayed her silent sobs. Roy's heart broke for the girl, and he raked his mind for something to soothe her.

"It... it's the soul. There's nothing you can do in exchange for a soul. One isn't equal to another – if it was, I'd trade mine for your parents." Roy hesitated, looking up into the tearfilled blue eyes that regarded him once again.

He almost faltered but continued on, "There's nothing you can offer to equal a life even... even one that you've taken. If there was, I'd have gladly paid it..." He sighed, "I almost did." He said in a near-whisper.

"Almost did what?" Winry asked, her voice still hard, despite the tears that shone in her now-curious eyes.

The colonel struggled... only he and Marco knew what happened that day. Was he really going to tell this girl? Spill to her his deepest darkest secret?

Before he opened his mouth, he knew the answer was yes. It was the very least he owed her,

"I almost killed myself." He said – his voice barely a whisper.

Winry's eyes narrowed in disappointment as Roy hurried on. It was obvious that this wasn't what she was looking for.

"I was stopped... both times I tried. The first time – when I was completely irrational shortly after I did it... I was made to understand that my death wouldn't accomplish anything."

"And the second time it would have?" Winry asked sarcastically.

"No... well I thought so. The second time... when I was trying to use alchemy... to resurrect them. I was so sure I could succeed. But Maes..."

Winry's eyebrow raised at that. "Maes stopped you?" she said in a hard voice.

Roy nodded. "He showed me that by killing myself then I was of no use to the people I'd killed, but if I moved forward keeping them in my heart I could accomplish great things I would otherwise not have tried."

"Tsk." Winry exhaled a sharp breath. "What a load of shit." She said coldly.

Roy tried not to be hurt that this girl was so distrusting of his soul baring.

"You just weren't in enough pain – to overcome your fear of the unknown." She said matter-of-factly. "You have no idea if it would have worked, do you?"

Wait... "What?" Roy asked sharply.

Winry looked at him with a bored expression as if talking to a child. The tears from earlier were gone, almost as if they'd never graced her face.

"You know, you really are something. You have so many different ways to make everything sound... so... noble. Let me guess... the 1st time you stood there with you gun in your mouth...or under your chin perhaps... over the spot where you killed my parents – and someone, maybe someone you had a meeting with at that exact time that you conveniently decided to off yourself, just happened to walk in just in time to talk some sense into you."

Roy opened his mouth and then closed it quickly.

"How could you... You talk like you've..."

"Considered it? Of course I have, are you daft? Do you understand ANYTHING I've been saying?!? I've lost everything I've ever cared about... every person, every thing... gone. And most of it was a direct result of your actions." Her chin trembled slightly although she did not cry again, "Even Maes... who was supposed to be your friend..."

"Maes WAS my friend. He chose not to let me get involved..."

"You know, you can try all you want, but there's no explanation that can justify it. The facts won't change. They died and you killed them. You knew that or you wouldn't have been so distraught as to 'try' to kill yourself." Winry sighed. "How disappointing." She said crossing her arms and looking pointedly away from the man seated before her.

"What?" Mustang asked, still uncomfortable.

"I guess... after all this, I am still an optimist after all."

"What do you mean?" Mustang asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"I don't really know... I just expected... more I guess."

"More than..."

"Well... more than the broken man you are." Roy stiffened at her accusation. "I mean think about the last few minutes. 'yes I killed your parents and I 'tried' to kill myself...' as if that makes up for it."

"Is there something more you wanted from me than?" Roy's normally composed voice held a note of desperation.

"I want you to suffer like I do every day! I WANT you to feel the pain I feel when I think about my parents, or the good man Maes was, or the people my best friends are becoming all because of YOU!" Winry yelled.

"Please tell me if there is anything I can do for you..."

Winry's expression darkened.

"Ah – that's what it really is isn't it?!? Here I come to you – looking for something to make some sense out of all this: to give some meaning to all the death you've caused. Perhaps to feel a little better by learning what actually happened, and here you are asking ME how to make yourself feel better."

Mustang shook his head. "That's not it at all... I just... I mean, I don't think anything I can tell you would help at all. It was a stupid... a horrific order... and I should never have followed it. But I did – I was weak – I admit to it – and I'm sorry... more sorry then you could ever know..."

"Oh – you're SORRY! Well, that does it then. It must be all ok now."

"Of course it's not!" Mustang countered her interruption with another, "But not like I could have prevented their deaths by refusing to kill them... in fact I would most certainly signed my own execution and they would have simply been killed by someone else." He took a deep breath before continuing in a calmer voice. "I'm sorry they died, but there's nothing I could do. That's why I am working as hard as I can to be in a position where I CAN do something next time.

"So you use their deaths as a measuring stick for how little power you have and go out searching for more, like that will somehow make up for it!?!"

"NO!" Mustang yelled, before forcing himself to calm down.

"I'm not interested in your version of equivalent exchange." Winry said, suddenly calm, as if she hadn't just been yelling. "I was much more interested in showing you mine."

Roy's heart dropped into his stomach. Her expression, her tone, her demeanor, nothing sounded good.

"It's taken me a long time to figure out how to get over all this... pain and agony." Winry's gaze settled on the window over Roy's shoulder and he felt like her mind was much farther away then across his desk. "I was convinced that the solution was the end of your life. That I could gain a measure of satisfaction by killing the man who killed so many people I cared about."

Something in Roy's gut twisted. This girl shouldn't be saying such things, even if he understood where she was coming from. But before he could interrupt her morbid speech, Winry continued.

"But... seeing you here, as you are now, confirms it. Killing someone like you won't bring anybody anything, even if it WOULD make the world a better place. Loss and misery... I seem to attract them. I am surrounded by people who need help, but I can never be all the things that need. I can never fill the void that could save them. And one by one... I lose them. So I finally figured out what I can take to stop it..." she looked up at Roy, a crazed unreadable expression on her face as she uttered her last syllable, "...me."

Roy's brow creased, she couldn't possibly be thinking... her next words erased any doubt.

"I can take my own life. Then my pain will not be the unbearable agony I live with everyday. And since no one will depend on me, no one will be let down."

"You can't possibly think the world would benefit from your death!" He tried to reason with her.

"I know I would!" She countered.

"You can't know what will happen when you die!" He tried again – how was it that Maes was so good at calming people and all Roy managed to do was rile them up?

"Can't be any worse than it is being alive." She threw back.

"What about Ed & Al?"

"What about them?"

Reason – try to reason with her.

"Don't you realize how upset they'll be by your death?!?"

"Oh – I only wish!" She threw back, a sarcastic sneer dominating her face. "Honestly, Al will probably be pretty upset, but Ed will take care of him. Besides they've gotten over so much more than me... I can't imagine a small thing like an old friend dying would keep them down for too long."

"What will Ed do when someone inferior to you has to make his automail?" Roy knew he was grabbing at straws, but he honestly couldn't let the girl continue with her warped thinking.

"Nice try." She smiled, "But you won't get anywhere by appealing to my vanity. I'm not quite delusional enough to think there isn't someone better than I to equip the great Fullmetal Alchemist with his precious detested automail. I am, after all, just a small town girl with an obsessive grandmother."

"Speaking of, is she aware of your depression and thoughts of suicide?"

"You won't get anywhere by dragging my grandmother into this or attempting to depersonalize or trivialize what I'm about to do, Mr. Mustang." Winry countered, adding a sarcastic stress on the 'Mr.' – proving to Roy that she knew his rank and didn't care to use it.

Roy didn't care about that – he was trying to figure out what Winry felt like she was accomplishing by speaking with him. Was this her desperate cry for help? A plea for him to stop her? Or, he swallowed thickly, a dare for him to try?

"Ms. Rockbell... Winry, I just want you see that your death won't accomplish anything. It's only by living that we can accomplish our goals."

"My death will accomplish everything it's supposed to!" She cried. The twinkle in her eyes became more and more pronounced with each word, "Don't you see? That's why I came to you... It's not the prefect ending, but I'm taking from you your selfish desire for retribution – for forgiveness. I'll never forgive you – I'll die before I do – no one can stop me, especially not you. I've thought long and hard – It's the only thing that equals my parents' deaths – knowing you should have done something to prevent mine, but you were unable to."

"Are you kidding me? Like I'm going to let you walk out of here after all this?!?"

Winry smiled, and Roy felt the first twinge of real fear at the cold certainty in her expression "You speak like I plan on leaving here at all."

Terror froze Roy to the spot.

In war you learned to read the subtlest gestures of your enemy. From the smallest clues you had to deduce the honesty and intentions of the person before you. And with the trained eye of a soldier – he knew she was not bluffing. She believed she could kill herself right here in front of him.

Damnit. Had he really fallen into such a trap as to be forced to watch her kill herself?

Bile rose in the back of his throat before he forcibly swallowed.

Ok – think, Roy think. Don't Panic.

What are the facts? Is she really in a mental state to do something like that? Unwilling to waste time weighing the odds, Roy quickly took in her posture and crazed look. He put an affirmative checkmark after that question. Yes – she is in a state to try.

Ok – relate, Roy. You've been here – to this dark place... thinking death was a better option than living.

How did you pull out of it?

How? No forget that – there's no time.

How does she think she could kill herself before you?

His eyes ran up and down the girl seated before him.

Drugs?

No – she'd have to have taken them previous to being in the same room as me and she couldn't guarantee she'd be conscious and in control long enough to finish this conversation. Plus once she fell unconscious, she knows I would bring her to hospital only a building away. They should be able to prevent death from almost any type of overdose.

His eyes strayed to her purse... her bulky purse.

Shit... not a knife – too much that could go wrong – probably a gun.

He wasn't fast enough to stop a bullet. He didn't have his gloves on – they were in his coat across the room. He couldn't even burn the strap from her shoulder or anything. Shit.

Winry had followed his gaze and smiled pulling her purse up into her lap.

"I know it's not true irony, but no matter how justified my reasoning – I probably couldn't kill anyone... even you. So your witnessing this will have to be good enough..." Winry said as she reached down and quickly unclasped her purse.

Steadily, she drew out a heavy awkwardly-weighted pistol. Roy recognized it as Maes' great-grandfather's gun. Maes had shown Roy it and several stacks of photos of the man on a number of occasions.

"I'll see you in hell." She said sarcastically as Roy struggled to move through the worst kind of slow motion. The kind nightmares were made of when you couldn't do a damn thing to change what was happening but you still had to try.

Roy leapt from his chair, throwing the wooden thing into the air. His movements seemed sluggish as if he were moving through water, whereas Winry seemed to have no trouble.

He watched in horror as she held the gun steadily in both hands and used both thumbs to pull back the hammer.

Roy rounded the desk, his hip smacking the corner of the desk with a painful jolt. Not breaking his stride, he watched Winry pull the gun up to her temple. He reached out grabbing for her arm and stumbled forward, falling towards the carpet.

The slip of his feet is what saved her.

Just as he saw her finger pressing the trigger, without any hesitation, he noticed, his reaching fingers – propelled by the speed of his fall, managed to snag her arm.

He had a chance to register the look of pure horror that crossed Winry's face as he drug her arm downwards and he, himself, realized much to late that the only thing in the path of the bullet was now himself...

A smile crossed his face at the irony as the gunshot echoed and the terrified expression of Winry's face was the last thing he saw as a silent red and black world strangly devoid of pain or feeling of any kind dropped onto Roy.

tbc...


Yes, I realized this leaves just as much of a cliffhanger as the last chapter. Plus it's no longer Ed's POV - whoopsie! My condolences – I've got one, maybe two more chapters planned, so it's not too much longer now. In retrospect when I go back and edit this story (thanks again to SJ Smith for notes on a few spots that need some doctoring) I may sprinkle pieces of this chapter – especially the conversation with Gracia – in the earlier chapters. I just realized that I'm almost at the end, and I wanted this scene to be... well... seen.

I realize that Winry is about as OOC as she can get here - I promise I will have some more of her reasoning coming up. I started this story (monster though it's become) after watching the episode where Winry finds out Mustang killed her parents and, based solely on the anime, decided that she'd have to try to do something about the unfairness of it. Then, I made the mistake of reading the manga, which shows Winry as an infinitely more compassionate person, and I'm having a hard time hanging onto the slightly-bitter person I imagined she could be (when seeing the treatment she gets in the anime) because I really fell in love with her manga character.

Thank you VERY MUCH to everyone who has read this far – and especially those who have taken the time to comment!