I'm alive!:D So yeah... I hope this will appease to you guys, but HEY HOWS IT GOING?:) Ahhh I missed doing this! Okay, do let me know if you like and thanks again everyone!

The sky is an ominous grey when I first lay my fingers on the cold door, nothing in hand, for what could I possibly bring? My belongings had been taken and hidden away. They had been promised when my health improved, but there was no way for me to linger around to see if Riza had been true to her word. As much as I wanted to.

The Colonel's voice, despite it having been quite some time since he'd left, leaves behind a sort of loneliness. With a slight turn and adjustment of the head, I catch a whiff of what I'd failed to distinguish before. A faint scent. Perhaps the peculiar smell of the man himself. It smells strangely like the uniform sewed by my mother's hands. Hours of manual labor, day in and day out, poured with her love and warmth. The times before she'd changed drastically for the worst. The times before Papa and I had been left to fend for ourselves in the cursed nights of wondering "why?"

The thoughts of her cause a sour churning to dwell within my stomach and I focus back on the doorknob in hand. It feels uncomfortable.

The greyness of the dreary outdoors flood into the window and fold around my spine, crawling. It reminds me of that certain moment. I do not wish to remember it at all.

"And just what are we doing here?"

A playful grin.

"Am I not entitled to bringing my beloved to a beautiful place for a picnic in celebration?"

A reflective scoff. Secretive enjoyment.

"Of course not."

I do not want to remember any of it.

With a faint nod and gentle shutting of the eyes, I reconsider what it is I'm about to do. My mind reels around the things I'd be leaving behind. Little fragments of what gave me the structures of living. Pieces that kept me going despite everything.

Perhaps I didn't have to do this. Perhaps a very small part of me can believe that it doesn't have to be this way. That I'm not truly condemned to an eternity of wandering alone, purposeless, and drowning in my own agony of what had been dealt. I was meant to come to this place and learn to forgive and forget. Allow the hearts of others, the kindness of Maes, Gracia, Riza, to join with my own and change this horrid self-interpretation of what I am, what I was.

Maybe just maybe, Ritzu could be telling me something. By leading me to this place. This wonderful, wonderful place. Could I start anew?

The grass smelled of roses. He reached over to brush a lone strand of hair.

"I love you," he whispered so quietly.

Furiously, I shake myself awake, twisting the way out open in such a forceful manner that my grip slips and I stumble back a few steps, panting at the rush of adrenaline. The pain feels so terribly real that I find I have begun to tremble and must crouch down to my knees, inhaling, and exhaling.

There is no possible way for me to remain here with a sane state of mind. I have to leave. Belongings or not. Should I leave behind a note? No. Goodbyes weren't a necessity of mine. I couldn't risk any moments of opportunity. I couldn't bring myself to risk another conflicting stage. I had to leave.

Once I've caught my breath, I straighten up and solemnly take a step up and out the doorway. A flash of the times I'd been tugged out and swept away by the Hughes almost tosses me back into the sanctuary I'd been so tempted to call home. I cannot allow for this to be the case however, and so I hurry on out, slamming the door in the process. Never would I have expected such a simple task to be so difficult, but the lock had been placed and thus what I had started could only be finished.

Swallowing, I hug my arms to my chest. The room pulsates a bizarre color and I recall the recently discovered sickness. There was a possibility I still held a fever. If I was to continue, I'd better be mindful of my health. It'd be a shame were I to enact my escape only to be found at the bottom of the stairs, unconscious. I'd been a burden enough as it was. And not only did I have to keep Riza's arrival in mind, but apparently Roy's.

"What is it?"

He tilted his head innocently.

"What do you mean?"

With a roll of my eyes, I played with the tips of the green field, processing the unsettling glint I'd seen in his eyes.

"Why are you so nervous?" I asked.

He twiddled with something in the corner of my vision.

A sense of wary excitement filled me.

Just why in the world...?

I click my tongue annoyingly, regaining just enough composure to press onward down the hallway. Of course I'd still be concerning myself with these preposterous thoughts. It had already been decided that his willingness to revisit was an act of compassion. Typical formality of a gentleman. Nothing personal. Riza could have put him up to it, suggesting he provide a more comforting atmosphere. She did seem the type. She probably found it to be in her best interests to return the "favor".

How painfully kind of her. To think I'd be hoping she and the others helped me because of a vague attachment. Maybe taking me along not simply to restore me to health, but quietly looking forward to welcoming me as a new addition to their- just what did they call it? A group who shared moments together, one that had their own place to retreat and speak to one another in blissful comfort. Something I'd love nothing more than to be apart of. Belong.

Such a thought seems ridiculous as I make my way down the stairs, avoiding the confinement of the dreadful elevator. The walls are eerily dim in the melancholy of the ending day. The carpeted floor conjuring the illusion of an endless sea. How I crave for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Maybe then, this deafening silence will finally come to an end, and I'll be able to move on from these memories in peace. These wonderful, hurt-filled memories.

"Fujiin. As you know, the age of eighteen marks the beginnings of your adulthood."

He stopped speaking at my attempts to peer around his hidden grip. With the roll of my eyes, I feigned an unappreciative scowl, plotting ways of figuring out the cause of his nervousness.

"Yes...? In a way I suppose that is the case." I cocked my head curiously, building a wall of alertness, flickering my state back to his hands that were twitching. "What's with the formality? Have you reverted back to your princely ways?"

Unfortunately my morbid request doesn't pull through and I must continue my trek down into the lobby where strangers walk about occasionally observing the mysterious girl who seems to lack purpose, stalking amongst those who know what to do with themselves as opposed to my cluelessness and lost sense of direction. Which way is right? Up? South? At the moment, everything appears to be the wrong way. Nothing retains its simplicity. Everything is at a different place. I can hardly even remember seeing those buildings outside the glass doors. The pleasant echoes of Gracia and Maes' laughs acts as a distant dream.

I suddenly desire my blade for comfort purposes. These borrowed clothes are extremely itchy. Frequently I blink and dab at my eyes to find drops of liquid fighting to escape. Peculiar.

I shrug away the confusion and fascination with the salty droplets and approach past the voices, towards the gloomy scenery. The people hardly bother to muster a single hello and so I proceed silently, pleading for the muted crowds to separate into easily distinguishable paths to freedom just beyond the murky glass.

"I love you."

"You've said that already," I pointed out in a nervous chuckle.

"I know." He trailed off, reaching out to lightly trace my knuckles, lifting it gently to his lips. "I find it important to remind you just how precious you are to me."

Fingertips kiss the exit. Reflection gazes back. She looks so terribly exhausted. Looks so terribly dead. Sad. Lonely. Had I always worn this face? Was this what I'd succumbed to?

I exhale a blast of warm air before pushing through. Looking back, the moist area slowly recedes, leaving behind a bothersome twinge of guilt. Perhaps I should have left a note. A final piece of my existence. A sort of memento.

Someone bumps into me and clears away the idea. There was no time to go back now. I'd already made my mind. No reason to depart in a dramatic fashion.

I'm tempted to regard the man who brought me back to my senses with gratitude, but with a single scan I note that he has already left. No apology. Just another rude civilian. City folk were becoming significantly bitter, aside from the usual crew. This could be a good thought to keep in preparation of my journey of solitude.

What a dreadfully depressing way of being optimistic.

"Do you love me?"

I readied for the usual joking reply but freezed at the startling solemnity shrouding his expression. All seriousness clouded his oceanic glaze. His lips parted in anticipation. I licked my own anxiously.

It's raining. A light, soothing sprinkle. It's perfect for the moment. Matches the mood.

My skin goes cold. As vehicles flash by, puddles of wintry droplets launch into my dampening hair, trickling into my vision. Everything blurs. Shadows merge. A single drop slips down my cheek and grazes the corner of my mouth. It tastes of salt.

"You don't always have to carry that thing around, you know."

I laughed, holding the sword closer to my chest, twiddling with the hilt. His unusual fidgetiness hadn't escaped my worriedment. There was something frighteningly exciting about his secret and I intended to know what it was.

"Of course I do," I answered matter of factly. He rewarded me with a humorous grin. "A gift's a gift. No way would I ever risk leaving such a beautifully crafted object lying around for some petty thief to snab." With this, I added a teasing wink and we chuckled at the memory of our first meeting.

I quickly dab at my eyes, bringing myself up to a brisk pace. Already I could feel the effect of those memories doing their worst, opening horrid fears and terrifying assumptions. History replays like a film in my mind and I must hurry, hurry to the edge of the city. Must reach the ends of the noise. I have to get far from these festering insecurities, these urgent questions.

How could I leave his gift behind?

Why did Papa do this to me?

Did I truly still have 'truth'?

Answers. I crave so many answers. Especially for the last.

There was no way for me to be truly certain whether or not everything that had happened to me the past few days were real occurances. No way to tell if I'd really driven my friend to suicide or ran into the Colonel. For all I knew, the girl of white was only a hallucination and Riza was a distorted memory. Did she even exist? Did Gracia or Maes or Roy exist?

Did I exist?

"You don't have to keep fighting."

He withdrew the object from his shadow, making sure to maintain its mystery by covering it with his trembling hands. I stared at it suspiciously. Measured its size. Guessed what it could be.

"I know."

He shook his head in patience, pulling his grip back. I started to think I was being tested. A test that I was failing miserably.

"No. You don't."

Frustrated, I start to jog. I ignore the looks, the calls, and continue to dash down the lanes routed in my restless mind. I have no idea where I am going. All I know is I'm moving. I'm getting somewhere. I'm running away. Again.

Even with a new title, I'm only ever good at this. Flee from my troubles and regrets. Tuck tail and run.

I'm always afraid.

"Let me be the one to protect you," he said quietly. His words were so clear. Almost deafening.

I laughed weakly. My heart rushed with a throbbing dread and paralyzing excitement.

"I don't need-"

"Not just for the sake of you."

The soft pitter-patter of raindrops continue to hit the pavement in a somber rhythm. Adding to it are the heavy thuds of my shoes, splashing, disrupting nature's predetermined design. I take a sharp right into an alley, blind. The people have all disappeared and it is only me, gasping for whatever is meant to come.

Brick walls guide me in the dimness of the lengthy path. The smell of wet cement clogs my nose and I have the urge to sneeze frequently, but I refrain from doing so. A part of me is afraid any sound will give way to my whereabouts. I do not want them to find me. But at the same time, I do. It such an aggravating process. Conflicting sides of me, myself, and I. If a mirror had been anywhere near me right now, I would have undoubtedly shattered it in pure rage.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

He frowned for the right choice of words.

"I'm sure you already know."

It was foolish of me to listen to him. It was idiotic of me to go along with his childish game. Why did I bother pretending at the time that horrible things happened to everyone except us? How stupid I was to think that a lifetime of happiness was going to be guaranteed to me. Absurd. Absurd and selfish.

It starts to rain harder. My feet have already been exposed to the stickiness of wet socks. It's uncomfortable and I grit my teeth in repulsion. When I'm just about ready to give in to the exhaustion eating away at my body, I take another direction change. This time to the left.

It is then when I realize just where I intended to go.

I did know. I had known for a while then. I'd figured it out ever since I'd returned from the field, away from the war that had still been raging on. Riza was still firing rounds at the innocent under the command of someone behind a desk. Roy was surely going around setting fire to people, also under the heavy influence of Amestris's dictator of a man.

I knew, and it was the knowing that frightened me.

"Ritzu-" I choked, but couldn't bring myself to go on. I really didn't need to.

Each and every twist and turn is burned into my memory. Engraved. It will forever remain a part of my existence, this map of mine. Despite having been there only once, I remember every nook and cranny. Every bump and step. I touch each spot on the walls, approving of their repetitive indentions and winding patterns. Even without the Hughes here, I can find my way to where I felt safe. Where I felt adored. And maybe in the future, loved.

Loved.

I fall forward. Ground meets skin and I find I've painted the world in lovely red. The stinging is delayed and when it comes, it's demanding to be acknowledged. With a hiss, I cradle back against the soaked bricks, observing the opened gash. I hadn't even noticed the broken bottles. Barely registered the recent liquids of brown and yellow. Bits of wasted alcohol. All I've truly noted were the bits of scarlet belonging to me.

"Fujiin, my dearest goddess. Manipulator of the winds. Fearless knight to my brother. Stubborn thief of the Aerugo streets. Keeper of my heart."

The sore, tenderness of the wounds feel ablaze. I'm back in the forest, waiting for Roy to touch that horrid color to my dead weight of an arm. I'm wishing for death. Naomi speaks those words for me.

"-dead by tomorrow anyways."

No. Wait. It's a man's voice. In the present. Right in front of me.

"Cutie isn't she?"

"Yeah, when you take away her screwed up legs and face. She's a beauty."

"Ral, don't you think tripping her was a bit harsh?"

"I think it suits her."

Five. Five men. Surrounding me, who was bloody, stuck in a sea of glass shards, panting from not only lack of stamina, but a rising fever and daggered remembrances.

He expected me to entrust myself entirely to him? To rely on his attempts to perserve my life when he could barely manage his own?

I smiled at the thought.

It actually didn't sound too bad of a deal.

Instinctively I reach for my weapon. The intruders flinch.

Nothing is there. I have no way of defending myself.

I can't protect myself.

I'm outnumbered and weak.

"Will you allow me to forever stand at your side, to shield you from harms way, to love you and call you my own? To exchange vows and promises, to fight amongst each other, to always remember?"

The boys realize my mistake, relaxing their stances to approach with malicious sneers. I find myself shrinking away in- what?- fright?

No, me afraid of thugs? Thieves? Murderers? Never. I've never been so weak as to tremble before such people.

Except...

"Fujiin."

He revealed a lone box. His finger poised to lift the lid.

My heart leapt into my throat.

My eyes blurred.

Ears muffled.

Hands numbed.

So terrified.

So thrilled.

"I think she could use a little more color."

A cackle. Chorus of laughter. One of them dares to reach for my hair and I act on impulse.

The broken bottle is tightly in my grasp. I squeeze and thrust blindly. A piercing scream shocks me into a frozen state, and I watch the blood pooling from his spastic hand, blinking incredulously and trying to remember when I had done it. Everything seems to fall into slow motion after that.

The question formed on his lips. I leaned forward, eager, nervous.

"Will you-" he started, and I felt myself melt. My limbs went limp. My mouth terribly, terribly dry.

I couldn't stop smiling. I didn't know why. But it felt so right. So proper for the moment. Absolutely perfect.

Nails dig into my throat and blade-like shoes morph into my stomach. Coughing red. Smelling red. All is the beautiful shade of those roses before they'd withered away.

I think I'm fighting back, but it's hard to know for sure. Everyone seems to be the same person. Three arms are one giant hand. Faces are suddenly statues. My legs are jelly and I can't see who or what I'm scratching, clawing, cutting into.

I've forgotten who I am.

"Will you marry me?"

Misaki? Fujiin? Who?

The rain falls harder and thunder crashes in the distance. Something wet swipes against my neck and I drive a fist into nose, rewarded by a 'crack' almost as loud as the rising thunderstorm.

Tongue. I'd been licked. Violated. Touched. By such dirty, dirty hands.

My hands moved to their own accord. They held to his face lovingly. Fingers traced his cheeks, nose, chin. He sighed in bliss, still waiting, still holding that life changing promise.

"Feisty bitch aren't ya? I like it."

"How about we get you into something more comfortable?"

"It's the stubborn ones I love."

"Put on a show!"

Only Ritzu could touch me. Only him. No one else. No one.

"Yes."

No one.

He enveloped me into his arms. Our mouths connected and we were laughing. The ring fit perfectly. It slid on with ease and felt so warm. Alive by the pulse of my racing heart. Our synchronized beats.

Why? Why has life been so cruel? Why have I been condemned to eternal damnation for something I never meant to do? How is that fair? Why?

"I love you."

It was the first time I'd ever said it.

The first time I'd admitted it. Aloud.

I don't know when I've stopped trying.

"I love you so much."

I'm swarmed by bodies. I've lost my strength.

"I love you."

What's worse is the knowledge of immortality. My neverending suffering.

This could go on forever.

And I'd never be free.

"I love you."

I'd never be free.