A/N: Infinite thanks to mushimio92 for the encouraging feed-back! (TToTT ).. And I also want to thank Hitori for reading and leaving a lovely review. Both helped me a lot to make this chapter. Thank you, also to those nice people who alerted/favourite-d RoH. I pray for your continuous support, minna!

Appearances

Can be deceiving

"You're not a murderer, are you?"

Riza Hawkeye remembered asking him that simple question. She just could not comprehend why the glass in his hand had to shatter. She remembered his expression. His eyes had widened as he had stared at his hand that was coated with red wine. He looked like he was caught in a haunting flashback but to the untrained eye they'd barely catch his surprised expression.

What's with him? These people are definitely odd, she thought as she rolled to her stomach on the bed. She sighed heavily. Things had happened so fast she didn't know what to think about anymore. Hopefully by then, Ed and Al were safely back in Amestris. They should have reunited with their family, right? But knowing those two boys, they wouldn't let her live it down that they were able to return because of her sacrifice. Why couldn't they just be content for once? After all, it was just a small price to pay… on her part, at least. She smiled. There was no way they could come back to Germany to drag her back there. From what she understood and seen with her own eyes, the Colonel had destroyed the gate that was used as entrance by the people of this world. And even if they try to use the circle that brought her to where she was now, if it was still there that is, it wouldn't work. They could use alchemy, their blood, or whatever else they could think of trying but Hawthorne had assured her that that would only work if it was activated in this world.

But then, surely those two boys were smart enough to discern that they couldn't "rescue" her by themselves when they could hardly open a portal to get to her. Who else would they ask for help? A deep frown replaced her assured smile. Mustang, that's who. That couldn't be good on either side. She's going to get used to life here. And he shouldn't waste his efforts on her when he should've been rebuilding his country.

She rolled again onto her back to stare at the ceiling. Mustang has his own business now so there shouldn't be any place for her in his head… much less in his heart. He had proven that when he left for that winter wonderland on his own. But she doesn't blame him. He had been through so much that any man would have given up a long time ago. She admired him for going this far but knew that one day, he'll eventually break down. Everyone has their own limits and when he reached his, she had made sure she was there to catch him.

And, by god, he was recovering! She just couldn't understand why he had to suffer all by himself. If he really was mending then he shouldn't let her disappearance pull him down again. Maybe he was better off without her. As much as it pained her to admit it, she still loved him and, unless he had already noticed it through her devotion, he will never know about it. He had to give up on her in order to move on. The gnawing feeling within her told Riza that he wouldn't do that. And dammit, she had to make sure he realized to do just that!

She cursed before fixing her gaze on the ceiling with much concentration. She didn't want to think of him anymore. Their ties had already been cut since the day he left to go up north. To her, he had made himself clear that he didn't need her anymore with that action; not even bothering to leave one word to her before disappearing just like that. Her disappearance would probably be a good riddance.

Well, if no one was bothering about her then she ought to do the same. She was already feeling miserable worrying about someone whose mind pondered about anything but her.

Riza raised her legs to haul herself erect from the bed. She crossed her legs in a sitting position and surveyed the room in an attempt to distract herself. It was then that she realized she was in an environment that she had never dreamed of being in before.

The room was a little too well-furnished but she kind of liked the way it is. The walls were a regal shade of red that was gentle in the eyes and if one would look closely, they'd see flowers and leaves imprinted on it in gold and black. The utopian chandelier hanging above gave a soft glow that wasn't too bright or dimmed –just enough to illuminate the room with a mysterious air. Riza was even more stunned at the bed she was lying on. It was a queen-sized four-poster bed with a canopy of mixed cerise and frosty silver and honeyed white blankets. To put it simply, the bed was a grandiose lump of softness with a dash of crimson, silky white, black, and silver; an intricate mix but the bed made it look like it was the most normal blend in the world and it was pulled off splendidly.

Fascinated, she felt herself leave the bed to further inspect her whereabouts. She gazed up at the roses carved on the surface of the poster's wood in awe. Riza's eyes then fell upon the desk beside her as she approached it, fingers gliding across the soft fabric of her bed as she did so.

Then she stopped. Leaning against the bedstead, Riza gazed at the figure of a woman looking back at her. The mirror was reflecting the image of a scarred woman suppressing her pain in a mask of nonchalance. She was leaning against a bed in a room of grandeur and luxury almost as if she truly belonged there. However, her eyes told a different story. Is this how it should be?

A look of nostalgia made its way to her face. That castle, her bed, everything around her… Hawthorne had given her his word that she was free there, that she may do anything she'd want, see and go anywhere she wanted to. In a way, he had told her that that estate was now her home meaning she was part of it and when she's part of it, consider everything in her possession to be truly hers.

This has to be a dream, she thought ruefully. Now that she'd realized it, everything seemed to have grown more surreal the more she looked around her. Knowing that that grand bedroom was hers, her heart wrenched. Back then, it had only been a dream of hers; to be able to live somewhere where she was free and was like in a piece of paradise. After all the sins she'd committed mostly against her will, she knew it would forever be a dream. It may become reality once Roy has achieved the top but things had turned to a different direction. She was aware of the huge chance that she might not be there when that happened but not being there in such a state was something she did not honestly expect. By then the Colonel would be king while she was in another world, the things she had once yearned for suddenly and unpredictably in her grasp. It wasn't the bargain she was expecting.

Unshackled by anyone, not even Hawthorne whom she'd compromised to work for, living in such dream-like luxury, and most of all, freedom. All of those she'd gained in a twist of fate. No, she was not expecting the whole thing in the least. She'd prepared herself for the pain—maybe a punishment or something or maybe even a much simpler change. But this? It was too otherworldly. Being stuck in another world was one thing she could understand but how in the hell did she end up there? Living in some castle in the air with her own queen-sized bed and a room worthy of some royalty? Did she deserve those? Apparently not yet she was still struggling to come to terms with the way life worked.

The only conclusion she could readily accept was the possibility that it was all set to give her a false sense of security and after getting attached to her state, a cruel set back would be awaiting her.

With her body and mind equally exhausted, she heavily fell back onto the bed and before she knew it, she had fallen asleep.

You have got to be joking.

"Yeah. He said his name is Hawthorne."

It had to be a coincidence. A terrible coincidence that that noble had a similar name with the man who killed his other self. And Riza Hawkeye was in the hands of such man with the same name. Surely the Hawthorne that Shadow talked about was captured or maybe even dead by then? Hawthorne had killed his other self. Certainly he wouldn't kill his literal other self… would he? Hawkeye was part of him —his half. He would never be complete without her. As cheesy as it may sound, he couldn't imagine life without her. She had and will always have an irreplaceable part in his life. No, she wouldn't get killed.

The former colonel forced himself to gaze into the younger man's eyes, hoping against hope to see the mischief that he constantly found every time the boy was in good spirits; to find any sign that would prove that it was all one big cosmic joke – on him.

Honesty and confusion; He could not believe that the time would come when Roy wouldn't feel good about seeing those things on Ed.

He isn't lying. The crystal clear realization hit him like he was run over by a truck. He tried hard not to tremble and attempted to straighten his mind. Worry and mortification were killing him but he knew he would reach nothing if he would let those emotions reign over him.

He felt his body drop back against his seat, eyes unfocused. He could tell his hands were trembling.

Oh, the irony of life. Why on earth did she have to make a deal with Hawthorne of all people? That she just had to end up in the hands of the most dangerous man he'd ever heard of in that dimension? A humorless laugh escaped his lips. He slowly rested his hand atop his pale face before moving it to brush his messy hair, a broken smile dangling on his lips.

Winry, Al, and Ed stared at him with confused and worried looks. They could only hope the soon-to-be Fuhrer had not lost it. But if he did, they couldn't blame him. He was a man who had just lost his other half. Anyone in his shoes could have gone senile long ago. Roy must have expected the looks they were giving him for he gradually composed himself and eased to elaborate.

"Hawkeye's alternate is here and I just spoke to her a while ago." At this, Ed seemed to be giving him more attention. "I believe that she has come from there but I do not know what her plans are here. But what she did tell me was about her past. And what's just astounding is the fact that the name you've mentioned was also something that I heard from her just a few hours ago."

"Hawthorne?" Ed asked, discomfort flickering in his eyes, "What about him? I just know he's dangerous but… what did you find out?"

"Aside from being a scheming and unfeeling man, he killed the Mustang in that world."

"How—why?" Alphonse was looking as equally stunned as his brother. Even Winry looked like she was going to be sick.

"Then… then Riza's in danger!" she cried, voicing out the words that had been slicing Roy's mentality.

"We really have to find her." came Ed's urgent whisper.

Roy eyed them with unease. They were acting the way he really felt deep inside —panic. It was impractical yet unavoidable. He wanted to stay calm because he needed to think clearly but every time he thought about Riza's situation, the urge to tear out and give anything up-even all that they'd worked hard for- just to be with her again would hit him. Oh he could just die if that would bring her back.

His cloudy gaze rested upon the three people in front of him. Edward, Alphonse, and Winry; three childhood friends worrying about someone they barely knew. They shouldn't be here, he thought. The Elrics— they've had their fair share of problems. They had hardly made it alive and now… they're troubling themselves with a conflict that only I was supposed to go through. Why do they have to concern themselves with other peoples' problems?

And Miss Rockbell, his heart suddenly felt heavy as he thought about it, she of all people shouldn't be involved here. The Elric brothers were her main concern and now that they're back, the three of them should be rejoicing. But now, they're here, caught up in another drawback that only I was supposed to deal with. I am liable for the loss of her parents. She shouldn't be helping this murderer. She is meant to be happy now that Ed has returned! But no. I ruined it. They have their own life.

He gazed at them with gratitude and guilt. This is a crisis that only I am supposed to bear.

They were talking of solutions and plans, completely oblivious to his thoughts.

"We should try the circle we went through. Dammit! That should work!" Ed grumbled with a hand under his chin.

"And the blood," Al added thoughtfully, "We should have higher chances of activating it now that we're in Amestris, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about but I want to help." Winry declared.

"So, what's our plan?" one of them asked.

His expression was one of deep-thought as Al, Ed and Winry waited for a response.

"The plan," he said, looking at each of them in the eyes, "is that you three go and take a rest. Let me handle this from here on out."

Like the stillness of a land before a storm, the expected silence came and he steeled himself.

"BASTARD! Don't you dare make me use the words I used against her to you!" yelled Edward, "You're not the only one who cares for her! We don't need your permission on this!"

"Colonel Mustang, with all due respect, we want to bring her back too. Don't think that you are the sole person who should carry all this!" Alphonse was obviously trying to hold in his anger.

"They said it all!" Winry cried, tears forming in the edges of her eyes, "I know this isn't a game but don't leave me out again! She is important to us too! I already told you I'd help."

Mustang stared with faraway eyes. "I understand that. But you three obviously do not see what help you'll be by being in my trashy apartment in the middle of the night, obviously tired."

There was a pause in which none spoke. And he knew he nailed them.

"He does have a point." Al whispered reluctantly.

"But he didn't have to say 'from here on out'" Ed was giving him a hard look, "You think you have to do this on your own as punishment."

"Redemption," was all that was said in response.

That may be but he didn't deny calling it punishment. With a burdened and aggravated sigh, Edward stood from the couch and put his hands in his pockets. "Fine, but we'll be back tomorrow whether you like it or not."

He moved to the door with a surprised Al and Winry following behind. He heard them bid the Colonel good-night before they shut the door. There was no answer; and Ed wasn't expecting one. He had a feeling that the man would need his privacy.

Ten minutes after his apartment door swung shut with distant voices that seemed to have whispered to him good night, the young man slid from the couch and crumpled to the floor, trembling.

He leaned his head against the hard wall, letting the rain pour as his obscured vision darted to his left. His window was clear as he gazed at the bright full moon hanging amidst the peaceful night sky. How he envied the serenity of it.

"It's my fault she's there." He growled as he punched the wall, angry at himself. "Everything she did was to protect me. Even that final act almost killed her just to save me. I could have protected her, dammit! Why does she always have to do the saving? It was my one chance of protecting her but why did it have to go so wrong!"

Bowing his head as shadows covered his face, he stayed silent, thinking his words over—thinking just how much an idiot he was and just how much Riza mattered to him.

He wiped the rain from his face with an arm, knowing he was hopelessly drowning without his shade.

The world was tranquil when Riza Hawkeye opened her eyes.

The soft blankets that were spread around her looked utterly foreign to her but not unwelcomed. It was so comfortable and inviting that she did not immediately move from the unusually big bed. For a moment upon waking, everything she knew of during those years ago did not happen. There was no war in Central, no flying rockets, no missing Elric brothers, no Mustang wearing an eye-patch… just their still blissful ignorance of the complicated future that awaited them.

For a moment upon waking, she was just Riza Hawkeye; Amestrian soldier, sniper, and the most loyal subordinate of one Roy Mustang. She was just a woman who had woken up with dreams of the better future, worries for the safety of her superior, and thoughts as to how to make it through the day. There were no thoughts of what a noble is planning, no other dimensions, and no gypsy that could read minds. There was just the diffidence of what the day had in store for her, how to handle the paperwork, managing things that went about in the office, and pretending that she felt nothing as Mustang boasts about the many women he'd dated. Yes, that was how her life used to be. But at that moment, as the sun was slowly making its way to the horizon, Riza knew her life was changing.

For the better or for the worse, she didn't care. For some reason, she had never felt so empty before. It was almost as if she had lost every motivation to live. Maybe it was true. Because if it wasn't, then she would not be there watching the colors of dawn paint the sky, reminiscing the past that she had suffered, loved, and gone through and not making any effort to even try going back. She wouldn't even bother struggling because she knew that everything changes and things just could not stay the way they were. No matter what, she will be right there, pretending to blend in, with an utterly normal past and an optimistic outlook for what was to come. That was her plan. And she was going to live there.

…but why? Her heart seemed to whisper against her mind. Why did she have to think about it so hard? Fate had decided already, didn't it? Why did she had to have doubts now; now when there was no turning back?

Her hands that rested upon the bed fisted firmly, crumpling the sheets. Her heart may have known her loneliness but her mind already knew the reason and had long since given her the resolution—which was to go about every day in indifference, believing that she would get over the past that she abandoned—or did it abandon her?—eventually. However, her heart seemed unyielding upon accepting it. It was fighting for the belief that there was still hope and she had to return because someone was waiting for her back in Amestris. Back in her world where she truly belonged.

Riza pulled up her knees, crossing her arms over them and laying her head down on it. Damn, her inner emotion was too optimistic. Didn't she suffer enough both mentally and physically to know that life didn't work that way? She knew without a doubt that her conviction had already accepted the path she was treading but her usually waning sentiments seemed suddenly revving against her; that her normal rationality might have a chance of losing.

It won't, her mind fought back. And Riza knew it was true. Because she was a rational person and with the life she'd undergone, she'd built walls of ice to guard her already bleeding heart. Because that was it… there was no turning back from the blind alley she'd chosen.

Unwilling to ponder anymore with her messed up mind and knowing she was a thread too-close to losing it, she'd resolved it better to leave the bed. Maybe exploring the mansion would hopefully keep her mind off of things… such as foolish misgivings.

The blonde stood from her bed and went to the exquisite cabinet which, without a doubt, belonged to her now. She had to change clothes because she might be in a different world but it's a general fact that women living in high-class society don't walk around in pajamas. Not that she cared about her image.

Trying not to do a double-take, she wondered why she had to be surprised upon opening the wardrobe. She'd learned to stop being astonished at so many things in that world and she was somehow already expecting that its contents weren't anything less to be astounded of. Yet it was still unavoidable that a wave of amazement would hit her. Everything within the teeming cabinet was filled with dresses and shoes of superfluity, all apparently extravagant and nothing less expensive.

She dug a hand through the pegs of upscale clothes, musing in what planet she had ended up in and if anything more normal—to her standard, of course—attire could ever be found within. The dresses, she saw, ranged from frilly to silky, from ribbons to glossy fabric, from black to white, everything was there. She tossed elaborate ones on the bed to make her search easier somewhat and at every throw, the pile grew bigger and bigger. The wardrobe wasn't even half empty yet she had grown tired by then. The soldier was about to give up when she raised the piece of apparel she was about to pull out. It had the color of lavender, long sleeved and reached around her ankles, with the neckline starting just below her collar bone. It wasn't overly elegant or plain but its simplicity was definitely charming.

Satisfied with what she'd found, Riza donned the dress while ignoring the pile of clothes she'd removed which reached to almost half her height. Though it wasn't her usual clothes, she figured it was not bad to try something new. And by new, she did not mean the one that Vera had her wear last night. She was by no means ever going to wear something like that again. The thought of such attire was making her miss her military uniform.

The morning sun was up by the time Hawkeye got out of the manor. For a magnificent mansion, she'd noticed there were few people there including the servants. As she had walked through the house, she'd only come across about four servants in the early morning. The four had given her a greeting of good morning in a way that they would greet their lord or lady. Before she had the chance to answer any of them though, they had already scurried off to do their daily toil.

"So I guess I don't have to worry about going somewhere and being disturbed," she muttered to herself. But the second she thought about it again, Riza started to question whether having time by one's self was a good idea. Great. Enough space to think more about things I'm trying to forget. But it's not like I want any company.

She traipsed through the mansion doors and out to the garden, attempting to distract herself with the surroundings. Again. But she saw it was quite worth it. Although she had not seen the whole of it yet, she could tell the garden was very wide, containing different kinds of plants, trees and flowers. There was a maze made up of towering bushes serving as the walls with roses of assorted colors adorning it. By the hugeness of it, she'd thought she would never enter it because it seemed impossible to get out of. There were also benches and tables at some parts of the area which spoke of its time in the world.

I'm going to be living here, she thought, uncertain if she was feeling riveted or apprehensive. Perhaps both since she was yet to feel any threat abound the castle- or mansion. I'm living the dream.

Meanwhile, not far away deep silver eyes followed the Hawk's movements from above. His stance was one of complete ease however his eyes were predatory. Disquiet replaced the shrewd emotions of the man as he watched her stroll through the area with apparent fascination. Why he was feeling such way, he could not comprehend. He could not even understand what he truly felt at that moment. There was nothing really special about her and he knew he was only observing her for the purpose of his plan for her… but there seemed to be something about her that deeply intrigued him.

I see her difference from Shadow; Two similar beings of different personas. He continued to observe the sniper as if pulling out information from her through sight alone. It was not his method to interrogate someone and expect to get straight answers. It was just far easier for him to find them on his own. But Hawkeye… Riza Hawkeye of Amestris was a mystery; a mystery he was determined to solve.

Hawthorne's gaze fell on the chess board situated on a table behind him. The white pieces were arranged on their rightful places yet some members of the black assembly were moved as if someone was playing with it. Almost mindlessly, he took the white queen and stared at it. Then his eyes darted up as if sensing something. His gaze shot at the person standing in his garden and their eyes met.

She has sensed me the whole time. His cold mask automatically slipped back after his abrupt surprised look. A sniper indeed, he thought, breaking eye contact and retreating back into the shadows. His footsteps were a hum as he proceeded outside his chamber, a thin smile forming upon his lips.

He descended the floor with the marble white queen split in half within his hand.

He's been watching me.

With her remarkable poker-face intact, Riza went back inside, deciding it was about time Hawthorne told her how she was going to be of use to him. Not that she was looking forward to it. Whatever it was, it certainly wouldn't be pleasant. Otherwise she wouldn't be feeling that sick to be working for a seemingly heartless man who was nothing else but a mystery to not only her but also to the world around him.

Well, he was certainly going to be unreadable then she might as well do the same. Besides, impassiveness was her specialty. Military life hadn't been so hard with her after she'd learned it. People tend to take advantage of anything that they could squeeze out of others. This ability of hers helped Mustang greatly, though he never said he enjoyed it when she wore that unsmiling expression of hers.

She looked up just as he appeared on the grand staircase. As expected, he looked just as he always did: nothing but cold civility and indifference. I'm not surprised that for a man as handsome as him, he still doesn't have a wife. She watched him in silence even as he reached the last step, waiting for him to speak. When he didn't even bother with a "good morning", Hawkeye found it neither offending nor unanticipated. In fact, she'd much rather he didn't. It would definitely be awkward should she ever need to greet him back, someone she obviously felt wary about.

Apparently sensing questions building up in her head, Hawthorne spoke as he stalked past her, the firm clicking of his shoes reverberating against the polished floor.

"We shall talk about it after breakfast."

She didn't answer; merely followed him.

They reached the dining room and there wasn't anything least expected within it. She was going to get used to the high-class life there so it was about time she learned to stop being surprised with everything. The only thing—or person—that seemed surprised, though, was the young girl about to sit in her chair. Upon catching sight of them, Riza could've sworn Vera would have toppled off her chair if she hadn't been able to take a hold of the table.

"L-Lord Hawthorne?"

Riza snuck a glance at the man who was utterly unfazed with his cousin's reaction. He went to a chair and pulled it for Hawkeye, a kind gesture yet his air remained not-so-caring. "Please do sit."

Without a single word, Riza did sit, hesitantly letting him do as he chose. And as the nobleman strode to his own seat across her—and by across her, she meant directly away from her for they were separated by a lengthy table—Riza noted that Vera was watching them—especially her cousin—as if she had entered the wrong dining room.

Hawthorne was definitely ignoring his cousin as he halted and turned, addressing her.

"Do excuse me for a moment. I shall be notifying the servants about our untimely advent so as they should be able to deliver us our meals." His velvety and refined voice rang out. After a smooth bow, he disappeared once again.

There was a short instant of stunned silence in which Riza could see the young girl stare at where the noble had just vanished to. Vera was still wearing that look of hers that said "What the hell, I must be dreaming," that made Riza assume that Hawthorne was the kind of man who'd really rather dine alone than with any company, not even with his own cousin.

"He must be really interested…" even with such a low voice, Hawkeye's ever sharp ears heard Vera's murmur. She could only feel confused when a shrewd smile stretched the girl's lips as she had spoken.

"He eats alone regularly, doesn't he?" the lieutenant observed.

"Yes, always. He only dines with me here as often as the blue moon appears. And I, for one, am not expecting that that blue moon would happen so soon."

"I noticed that you have never called him by his first name. Why—?"

Vera cut her off in an outburst. "Well, yes! I don't even know his name! No one, not even his own mother, knew his name—or at least the name that he considers to be his. We may call him this way because of formalities, but we really do respect him; even if I knew his name."

"Have you tried asking him?"

"Er, no. Even if I had, I don't think he'd tell." She thought for a moment, "I mean it's not like he doesn't trust me. It's just… well, an unimportant secret to him."

"An unimportant secret, huh? His name must be special." Riza muttered with a dry smile.

Before she thought that they were going down to another silence, Vera suddenly asked her, "So, Riza, any boyfriends at home?"

Riza sighed. "I thought I told you, I really don't have anyone close to me. At least not to that extent."

"What? How can that be, you're very pretty! Maybe you're just being too stubborn."

"I did not have time for that. And even if I did, it wouldn't be important to me whatsoever. Especially since no one would really take interest in me. So it's pretty much hopeless."

"Oh yeah, sure, I believe you."

"It's the truth, and I won't bother to convince you when I know you're the stubborn one."

"I'm not stubborn, Riza. It's called determination."

"Let me tell you something, then. You're using your determination on the wrong topic with the wrong person."

"Ooh, defensive. Seems to me you don't like talking about this kind of stuff."

"I simply don't have your desired answers on your impractical questions."

"And now you're saying you're speechless…"

Hawkeye, at this point, was trying her best not to let her annoyance show because if she did, then she was giving everything away to Vera. She let her eyes examine the fine wood of the table. "I'm saying that this is a futile conversation with me."

Vera went on as if she hadn't spoken. "You wouldn't even look at me. You must be guilty."

Riza raised her russet eyes until they met the emerald ones of Vera. Remaining utterly unreadable, she replied. "My love life is none of your business and is not important enough for you to know."

Vera for a moment looked smug to be able to have had Riza say something like that before that expression melted to one of incomprehension. "You love that man you work for-"

"You should listen to your seniors, Vera. I thought you were aware of that."

Both blondes turned toward the source of voice that interrupted her even though they had already known who it was without the need of seeing who had spoken. Hawthorne was walking back to their table, expression as blank as usual. His cold grey eyes were hard despite the stream of warm sunlight pouring from the windows he'd passed, painting the surroundings a soft hue as he stalked across it.

He seated himself. Within the next minute, three people strutted out with the air of dignified servants as they carried silver platters and laid it down before their masters. They left as quietly as they came.

The breakfast wasn't very interesting considering the three of them had eaten in complete silence. Although Vera looked like she was about to choke now and then when her eyes would frequently dart back and forth from her cousin to their guest. Hawkeye ate as casually as if she were just at home, not caring about any a chance that what she was eating so doubtlessly could be poisoned. Though she knew it wouldn't for they definitely wouldn't gain anything from her corpse. And if it were, she couldn't care less. Hawthorne meanwhile, was also eating as nonchalantly. He was eating like the aristocrat that he is while his eyes would gaze up from time to time to look around him. It was so easy to believe he wasn't someone who could be plotting something that could change a country's life.

What was a little awkward, though, was when he had finished with his meal. He had set his fork down almost as if it was untouched, dabbed his mouth smoothly, and leaned back on his polished seat… to watch Riza. Despite not watching him, Riza had always been aware of his actions through her sheer perception. And the uncertainty of how to place his gaze was unnerving for her. She had never encountered anyone so hard to read.

Before she reached her mental breaking point, she abandoned her breakfast, determined to confront him from his blank-eyed staring. "I'm finished."

He gave one small nod then stood up and walked from the dining room. She followed him, paying no attention to Vera's reaction. She was midway to scooping her food in her mouth when the pair had risen to leave, the fork clattering from her hand to her plate noisily that Riza thought the tableware could have cracked.

Through winding grand staircases, gothic glass windows, and long, silent hallways, he led her without speaking a word. The place felt so taciturn and their auras weren't of any help- it was all so chilly.

They stopped before a large polished wooden door. As Hawthorne turned the golden knob, Hawkeye assumed they were in the east side of the mansion. The door swung open and he stepped aside to let her pass.

It was a good thing that Riza remembered not to let her mouth hang open. The room was something she'd only visualized in novels she'd read. It was the kind of room she thought she could merely dream about, being a person who enjoyed silence, a good book, and a nice view. Shelves of books lined the walls and comfortable looking chairs and tables were there. And there on the veranda, one could see a good view of the city and the expansive garden below.

She walked by the shelves, gazing at books with fascination. Hawthorne, after shutting the door walked past her toward the table by the balcony, fixing something. "You may examine anything you'd like there but I hope you don't mind if we have a little game before that?" he asked her, motioning a hand to what she saw was a chess set.

"My purpose of following you is to know what you want from me." She replied sharply, taking mental note that she was there not for the room's interior design, the books, or a chess game.

He had already seated himself and had begun arranging the pieces, answering her as if expecting her response. "Yes, I was hoping to settle that while we play this game. It would be quite lacklustre to merely speak."

She took the seat across him and waited quietly. The fact that she had suddenly become pliant may have surprised Hawthorne. Whether it did or did not, he never showed it.

"White or black?" he asked her, grey meeting auburn unwaveringly.

"Black." She had contemplated whether to let him choose or not since it was unimportant but made up her own mind eventually. It had already struck her that he was the kind of man who could figure out things over seemingly irrelevant details. He could be testing her for all she knew. But why black? Most probably because she was tired of always playing around with light—with the good side of everything. And if he was going to be a villain, she just had to show him that two could play at that game.

She assumed that he must have also thought the same way with her one-word response for the ends of his lips curled upward for a brief moment. Gathering information over the simplest of gestures was something she'd learned long ago. She would even go as far as saying that it was one of her expertise. I had been the most used type of communication between her and Mustang, after all. But Hawthorne… he was a challenge to her. She had never encountered anyone so difficult to read.

And the board was ready, game ready to begin. "I shall start then." And he moved a pawn.

"You wish to know what my plans are to you, correct?"

During the first part of the game, Hawkeye had had the upper hand. But she had a strong sense that he was going easy on her. Not that she was saying she was a weak player; she'd defeated Mustang a few times back then and it was a feat in and of itself; but Hawthorne struck her as a very calculating man capable of thinking ahead of his opponents and ready to sacrifice anything to win. Why she was suddenly winning, she could only think, was because the game was a distraction for his underlying plot. He was probably letting her win for information.

"Yes. I don't see how I could be of any use to you. You are aware of my origins and if that has been your aim, you could have gone to it without my help since you obviously know things that I don't. And if it's about this world… I can't imagine anyone with a brain to go through all that trouble to get someone who knows nothing about that place- To use perhaps as bait or something." She explained ahead of him, moving her bishop which eliminated his queen.

"Close, but not quite." He said, his eyes moving from her to the board. "I see that you are an excellent player."

She watched him move his knight that was obviously intended to sneakily attack her lone pawn that was guarding her king. "You're mocking me, letting me win on purpose. I know you're better than this." She gave him a cold look which he returned with a forced laugh.

"Humble, aren't you? However, even if I am, I must tell you that you seem very talented in this field. You would be a difficult adversary to defeat."

"Adversary? You think I'm a formidable opponent?" a dry smile touched her lips as she moved a bishop in a useless position. She watched him do the same—a palpably pointless move even though they both could see an opening in each other's side.

He twined his fingers together, lips slightly curled. "The world is filled with mysteries; a lie, pain, laughter, vengeance, emptiness, questions, answers… Anyone can be anything."

She stared at his unreadable expression, fighting the confusion from showing on her face. He was too mysterious for her to comprehend just when she thought she had him all figured out.

She observed the board and saw that she still had the upper hand. She eyed him. He never truly paid attention to the game, not that she cared about it. But there was something in his words that was slightly unsettling her; whatever he was implying, she had no idea. The weight of it all was crushing her and suddenly everything was closing in on her. Riza swallowed then made her move. She was going to win this. She had to.

Hawthorne's hand moved and as he raised it, Riza felt her mouth go dry. She was in a checkmate—he won.

"You see Miss Hawkeye, appearances can be deceiving."

A/N:…And he was like 'I'm dying without you!', and she was like 'where do I really belong?', and they were like 'Hey, we're OOC 'cuz we're emos now!'….

…I don't even like emos. Unless it's some kind of chocolate.

Hooray for late updates! Mind you, I'm not ditching this story… of course, as long as I know somebody's still reading and waiting for new chapters. Just give me the hints that I need. I'm always hanging around , reading other fanfics and checking my account now and then. The only problem is my speed tho'. Time isn't something I'm rich with these days.