Author's Note:

order in the court!

(and yes I've changed my 7-year-old username into something that I think represents me better)

Log 11: Grumman and Madame Christmas

May 1925

Fraternization? Grumman pushed his spectacles upright. How absurd.

To think this was the first news his granddaughter sent him after she got out of the hospital. He was certain he asked for her medical condition, not her legal situation. Fortunately, the fraternization laws only apply to commanding officers, and provisions state that enlisted members like her couldn't be charged with such crime. Yet she immediately informed him of his matter, completely ignoring her condition.

Grumman leaned against the windowpane, mindlessly watching the vehicles passing by. The news was appalling, yes, but somehow he knew this was one of the many allegations that can be held against Mustang and Hawkeye. If the circumstances were any different, he swore he would have rejoiced to find out there were other people interested in their relationship. But now he wished he shouldn't have asked Mustang to make his granddaughter first lady. Instead, Grumman should have asked Hawkeye to marry Mustang herself! He could picture it right then and there— Hawkeye on her knees asking Mustang for his hand, and Mustang would give up his position and let Hawkeye be the next Fuhrer. That would have made things easier; it would have been the start of the Grumman-Hawkeye dynasty.

He heaved out a sigh. To be fair, he's more disappointed in the plaintiff. He can think of many other (better) cases to impose against Roy. Such a pity. Perhaps Hakuro was always the desperate man that he is.

"Ah, stop right here," he told the driver in Xingese, his Amestrian accent thick enough to blow his cover. Grumman then cleared his throat and fluffed the strands of his silver wig. He hoped the driver wouldn't suspect him to be the leader of another country dressed as an old woman.

Upon the vehicle's sudden halt, the driver scrunched up his nose, eyeing skeptically at the building in front of them, then at the seemingly old woman sitting innocently on his backseat. The driver never would have thought that a frail, prim and proper passenger would dare go to such an… ostentatious display of worldly pleasures.

"Zhongyang city sure is open to all," the driver said, his breath hitching. "Are you sure this is your destination, Ma'am?"

"Of course. I know Xing's capital like the back of my hand," Grumman said, a lilt in his voice. It wasn't particularly a lie; being Fuhrer meant at least being familiar with all of the capital cities across the globe. The driver was still gawking at the building, and Grumman couldn't help but suppress a chuckle as he handed out his fee. "Keep the change. After all, I own the place."

Well, partly.

A little chime rang the moment he stepped into the building. The place almost felt familiar, except for the expensive incense tickling his nose with a sweet, intoxicating scent. A fine lady dressed in satin immediately approached him, and Grumman assumed she was expecting his arrival. The lady raised both her eyebrows, her eyes glimmering with recognition. "Shall I take you to the Madame?"

"Why, that would be a pleasure."

They both made their way to the lift, their heels clicking against the marble floor. Grumman marveled at the five-story ceiling above the atrium, adorned with a dangling crystal chandelier. Men and women of different nationalities mingled across the floor below, dressed in their finest suits and gowns with champagne on their hands. It was definitely different from the shop he knew in downtown Central. And Grumman must admit, Chris Mustang certainly made quite a haggle back in the day. Not everyone would agree in letting two aspiring politicians blow up their shop— their main source of income— to smithereens. Fortunately enough, he taught Roy to always pay his debt tenfold.

"Shouldn't you be on your way back to Amestris?" Chris Mustang said, her voice booming across her secluded office.

"I couldn't miss my only chance to drop by," Grumman mused as he removed his wig and slumped his back the moment he sat down on the bergere. "Fancy tavern, I must say."

The Madame only grunted. "What business brings you here, Frederick?"

"You know there's no need to ask," commented Grumman. "I'm sure you, of all people, have heard of the news, hmm?"

"Even faster than the news itself," Chris spat. "And what would I benefit from this exchange?"

"They've asked me to testify against the case."

The Madame snapped her head towards him. "You? The Fuhrer?"

Grumman shrugged. "I assumed there was no other option."

"So it's true." Chris sighed, the weight of the next words made her visibly gag. "They interrogated each of the men in Mustang's unit, and used all their testimony against him."

"Preposterous." Grumman leaned back in his seat. He'd heard of that rumor as well, although he never quite believed it until then. He knew Mustang's unit the way he knew each piece in a chessboard. Havoc, Falman, Fuery, and Breda… they would never betray their superiors, especially Mustang. But he couldn't bring himself to blame them. If they explicitly denied the claims, despite having some truth in it, their testimony might be used against Mustang. And just like that, they might be accused of fraternization as well. It was indeed a tricky situation.

"To think that it would get this far…" Chris trailed off, then her eyes snapped back up to Grumman's. "Just when you announced your retirement."

"Just when you think aging doesn't affect anyone," said Grumman, chuckling. Then his expression turned serious. "The case most likely has a political motive."

"Highly likely." Chris propped her chin on her palm, a fine line drawn across her lips that almost looked like a frown. "You politicians have nothing better to do but decidedly bask in your own misery and call it charisma."

Grumman sighed. "I now call it karma."

"Good for you."

"Shall we get back on the case?"

Chris glanced to her side, and as if on cue, another lady dressed in satin stepped forth, bringing a stack of papers. "You better thank Samantha, she handed out these details to us."

"Samantha? The girl who once waited tables at the shop?"

"Precisely," said Chris, flipping through the pages. "She paid off her debts a couple of years ago, and look where she is now: Mustang's legal adviser. Unlike someone I know."

It sounded like a threat directed at him. "You never fail to amaze and scare me at the same time."

"And you might want to step up your game, Mr. Fuhrer." Chris looked up to him. "The prosecutor presented quite a handful."

"From subordinate testimonies?" Grumman scoffed. "Scandalous rumors?"

"Unfortunately, no." Chris clicked her tongue. "The testimonies from his team were only used to verify evidence."

"And just what is this evidence?"

"Performance appraisals," The Madame replied curtly. "They've logged Mustang's movements and activities throughout the years."

Grumman mindlessly tapped his fingers on the hardwood table. Were these the observation journals he found on Fuery's desk? "Since when?"

"Ever since New Ishval reopened."

Grumman let out a deep breath. That didn't sit right. "And that would suffice as evidence against them?"

"Of course not," she spat. "They've also brought in testimonies from Mustang's old unit."

Grumman nodded slowly. Colonels Charlie, Damiano, Alexandre, Roger, Fabio, Richard, and Dino. They've known Roy at the dawn of his military career, fought the war together, and helped them with the coup. Yet he doubted their testimonies were stained with prejudice, or at least, not as much as Mustang's current unit. They were the perfect witnesses against the case.

"So the plaintiff used their testimonies to compare Mustang's performance before he worked with Hawkeye, I presume?" asked Grumman. He hated to admit it, but Hakuro certainly knew what he was doing.

Chris nodded, tipping her wine glass in agreement. "I'm not surprised you've patched it up so quickly."

Drats, he thought as he curled his mustache. "What else did they say?"

"They confirmed they were suddenly assigned to temporarily handle East City," narrated Chris. "In other words, they've verified that Mustang left his post and chose his own team to join the war against Drachma. Not to mention it was beyond the acting-Fuhrer's orders."

"Don't tell me they took Olivier Armstrong as one of the witnesses."

"I regret to inform you that she's their key witness."

Grumman cursed under his breath. "Is that the reason why Mustang chose me as one of his final testimonies?"

"Perhaps," Chris said, taking another sip from her wine. "Or it could be the other way around. Roy boy may have requested he'll choose you as one of his witnesses. That, in turn, allowed the opposition to also call for high-ranking officials on their side."

Heavens. Mustang certainly enjoyed putting all the pressure on him. "Is there any more information that I should know?"

"That's all I could say for now," Chris said, then lazily pointed a finger at him. "It's time I ask you that question. You are their former superior, after all."

"Curious about them, are we?"

"Shut your mouth."

Grumman laughed haughtily. "Unfortunately, I haven't seen any unprofessional behavior between them. But I might conduct my own investigation after all this. Without imposing charges on them, of course."

"What are you going to do, abolish fraternization laws?"

"Hoho, that I won't do," said Grumman. He knew it was established for a reason, and simply removing the hurdle would only bring discord and menace in the race. "Besides, that's the easy way out. And you know how tedious it would be for me to take out the challenge."

"Yet here you are, planning to investigate them after the case."

"You can't blame an old man for wanting grandchildren."

"Then Roy boy certainly made a mistake choosing you to testify for him."

"Did he really, now?"

Chris rolled her eyes. "Just because he trusts you, doesn't mean I trust you too."

"Well, you're the one who entrusted him to me in the first place."

"I asked you to mentor him, not pass him over to an alchemist."

Grumman let out a sigh. "It was what he wanted."

"And you benefited from it, as all politicians do," Chris asserted. "I'm sure the main reason you sent him to the Hawkeyes was to check on your estranged granddaughter."

"That I admit," said Grumman. "But the ones who benefitted the most are Roy and Riza themselves. Isn't that right?"

Chris paused. "Admittedly so."

Grumman grinned in triumph. "Just what do you think their relationship is, Madame?"

"It's none of my business," groaned Cris. "Nor should it be yours."

"Go on, just between you and me." Grumman glanced behind the Madame. "Or make that between us and the rest of the girls here too."

Chris hummed, hesitating, before saying, "I suppose you know the answer to that." She turned to one of her secretaries behind her. "Cassandra? Ever recall the moment Roy boy first brought Elizabeth to the shop?"

"Oh, yes!" The so-called Cassandra perked up from her desk. "Who could ever forget how flustered his face looked on that day. Right, Vanessa?"

"Ooo!" Vanessa chirped from across the room. "It was the first time I'd seen him bring a lady friend."

"In fact, she was the only woman he'd brought to the shop," corrected Chris, turning back to Grumman. "Not counting the times the girls dragged him to visit."

Cassandra and Vanessa giggled in unison.

Grumman couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. "And how do you girls see them together?"

"Oh, they're quite a total package," said Cassandra, gesturing with her pen. "They look so good together!"

"And Elizabeth's a real catch," noted Vanessa. "She once took care of Roy boy after he passed out drunk at the shop."

"Caring, intelligent, beautiful," Cassandra sighed. "She's everything that Roy isn't!"

"Aren't you glad they met each other?" Grumman glanced at Chris, who narrowed her eyes at him.

"That's enough, girls," Chris proclaimed. "We wouldn't want to keep the Fuhrer embarking on idle chatter."

"I'm honestly enjoying it, Madame."

"Not unless you wipe that smug look on your face."

"Ah ah ah, shouldn't you be thanking me for bringing them together in the first place?" Grumman teased.

Both of the girls squealed with glee. Chris glared at them before they spoke another word, then turned to Grumman. "I would if you fix the mess you dragged them into."

Grumman huffed. "At least you've admitted it was I who led them together."

"Never said anything like that." The Madame snorted, yet was clearly amused.

"Well, then." Grumman stood up, putting on his wig once again. "I best be on my way."

"As you should."

"I shall be expecting your gratitude when I come back."

"Or my charges if you fail," Chris threatened. "Don't use my nephew as one of your pawns if you're planning to destroy everything you've worked on."

"There's no need to worry about that." Grumman stopped by the door, a smirk drawn across his face. "I believe my work is already done."

After all, his pawn is about to reach the other side of the chessboard.

June 1925

"I solemnly declare and affirm that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." Grumman lifted his hand from the leather-bound book, and watched the judge nod, accepting his oath. He felt calm, in all honesty. It wasn't the first time he'd come to a court trial, let alone be the defendant's witness.

Grumman took a deep breath, turning to the crowd. Roy Mustang was facing him, his chin resting on clasped hands. Whether he was nervous or not, Grumman couldn't tell. But the look on his face did not differ from when he attends formal occasions, especially with his hair slicked back in the way he always hated. His eyes then searched for Riza, only to find out she was nowhere to be found in the crowd. On the other end of the room, Hakuro was eyeing him pensively, his chin so high up that he almost seemed to look down on him. Grumman mentally smacked him in the face.

"Mr. Frederick Grumman, current Fuhrer of the state of Amestris," Samantha, Mustang's defense attorney, began. "You are Roy Mustang's former superior, am I correct?"

"Yes."

"For how many years?"

"From 1905 to 1914. You do the math."

"9 years," Samantha mused. "And when did Ms. Hawkeye enlist under the Eastern Command?"

"Around 1908 or so," replied Grumman. "That includes the time she was recruited as a cadet in the war."

"I see." Samantha crossed her arms over her chest. "You must have known them very well."

"Yes, you could say that."

"Have you noticed any inappropriate behavior between Mustang and Ms. Hawkeye?"

"Well, in terms of inappropriate behavior, Mustang did lift his feet on the table, and Ms. Hawkeye reprimanded and threatened him to put it down, despite being his subordinate," Grumman recalled. "Other than that, I don't believe I have observed anything worse than that."

"Let me rephrase the question. Do you think there is any sign of unprofessional, sexual relations between the two officers?" Samantha asked, and Roy visibly tensed beside her.

"Honestly, I haven't seen them interact in a way that crosses the superior-subordinate relationship at work."

"How about their productivity? Was there any change in behavior regarding Mustang's performance between those years? By that, I am referring to his ability to concentrate in his work, handle multiple operations, and assign tasks fairly."

Grumman tried his best to keep a straight face. "Of course there is. Mustang wouldn't have been promoted to General if his performance remained subpar. Quite frankly, anyone would need to improve their performance if they were aiming to be General."

"And was this performance, somehow, affected after Ms. Hawkeye joined his unit?"

Grumman replied curtly, "As I said, I would say his performance has improved since Ms. Hawkeye joined his unit."

"Objection, Your Honor," the prosecutor asserted. "Mr. Grumman, I feel conflicted with what you are telling us. You mentioned that anyone is capable of reaching his current position if their performance will improve. Thus, such improvement cannot be caused by Ms. Hawkeye's presence alone, which also means you have not answered my question."

"Your Honor," Samantha said. "The question at hand is only asking Mr. Grumman if Mustang's performance was affected after Ms. Hawkeye joined his unit, and not because of her."

"I will accept," the judge affirmed. "Proceed to the next question, if any."

Samantha nodded. "No further questions."

Samantha got back to her seat. Roy had his brows furrowed, concentrating on the case. Grumman cracked his knuckles underneath the desk. They started this round on a rocky foundation.

The prosecuting attorney stood up for his turn and nodded to the judge, his confidence untainted. Then he looked at Grumman. "Mr. Grumman, you've mentioned that Mustang's performance has improved during the years he was under your supervision. What exactly is your basis?"

"Performance appraisals."

"What process do you undertake? Peer appraisal? Rating committee?"

"Immediate supervisor appraisal," Grumman told him promptly. "I doubt anyone would like to hear me lecture about Behaviorally Anchored Rating Scales, now would they?"

"I doubt they would. But it is indeed a reliable method," the prosecutor went on. "However, you and I both know supervisor appraisals are insufficient in appraising any performance. Do you know the reason why?"

Grumman tensed. "Yes."

"It's because it is highly subject to bias," the prosecutor continued. "Mr. Grumman, according to the records here, you were the one to enlist Mustang to join the army. Is this correct?"

"Yes."

"And you are Ms. Hawkeye's maternal grandfather?"

"Yes."

"Are you fully aware of the effects of these affiliations on your perception and judgment?"

Grumman felt his mouth twitch. There was no other way around it. "Yes."

"No further questions."

Grumman clenched his fists. This didn't sound good. The trial was surprisingly moving fast- they're at the redirect examination portion now. The jury appeared to have set their mind as if the case were a film they've seen before, wanting to get it over with. If Samantha doesn't ask the right questions, Mustang's road to being Fuhrer would lead to a dead end.

"Mr. Grumman. Are you aware that there are those within the Amestrian Government who appraise their commanding officers and enlisted members through peer appraisals?"

"Yes, yes I am. Well, I have once seen a peculiar… notebook on Kain Fuery's desk. I believe I saw it in the Summer of 1915. It bears the words, 'Roy and Riza Observation Journal'."

"Your Honor." Hakuro raised his hand. "That particular journal does not belong to the evidence. I ensure all our evidence is empirically-based, and not by whim. Besides, we began collecting evidence by late 1917."

The judge nodded. "Proceed to the next question."

Samantha cleared her throat. "May I ask why you didn't opt for any other appraisal method, despite knowing it would affect your judgment?"

Grumman smirked to himself. He thought she'd never asked. "First of all, this is a military setting, not a corporate one. Any judgments made by one's comrades are not significant on the battlefield. In fact, it is counterproductive. The same is true in the work environment. The laws of Amestris always emphasize camaraderie among each military unit. Thus, I aim to promote working as a team, rather than making it a competition, be it at the field or the office. Call it a form of training, as you may. Besides, this system makes it clear to subordinates to follow the chain of command, to respect their superiors the most and prioritize following their orders."

Samantha nodded to herself, and Grumman saw a shift in the jury's facial expressions. He must have taken their interest back.

"And what about the potential bias?" asked Samantha.

"The potential for prejudice is something that's always there but could be prevented. It is similar to that of emotions. Men and women in the military are utmost profound in compartmentalizing their emotions, are they not?"

"Objection, Your Honor, how is this relevant?" asked the prosecutor.

"The witness has not finished speaking," the judge said. "I allow it."

"Thank you, Your Honor," Samantha said before turning back to Grumman. "Mr. Grumman, are you admitting that your judgment is, indeed, biased?"

"I never said anything like that. We are talking about the potential bias. To say that we do not possess a tendency to express emotion or prejudice is to say that we are not human at all. Do we hesitate before pulling the trigger in front of a convict? Yes. Do we know the effects of our affiliations on our judgment? Yes. But do we allow these emotions and biases to compromise the mission and the state? I tell you, I would not be in this position if I did."

"Thank you for that clarification." Samantha cleared her throat. "No further questions."

Grumman smirked to himself. Hakuro's side might have thought they won this round, but they didn't know he was sowing doubt in the jury's minds. Everything was going according to plan. As long as Samantha questions in the way he predicted, everything will go smooth-sailing.

He sat in the audience, next to Olivier Armstrong and Major-General Miles. He wondered who the next witness will be, hoping they'd make a strong foundation before they question Riza. But then his eyes widened when the next witness came to the podium. It was Riza Hawkeye.

Panic ran through his veins. Their stand is still on a shaky foundation, yet they've already reached the final witness. Grumman squeezed his palms together, watching Riza make her oath, then take her seat next to the judge.

It will be fine, he told himself. Riza has always remained calm and logical under pressure, she'd find a way out of this. With Riza's prim and proper demeanor, Grumman couldn't help but admit that she looked a lot like her mother. Except for Riza's straight blonde hair that flanked her facial features, just barely hovering over her shoulders. And the cold, scrutinizing gaze she always makes— truly the Hawk's Eye. Now she seemed to be deep in thought, and Grumman wondered what words buzzed in her mind, words he knew nobody could ever read straight from her face.

"Ms. Hawkeye," Samantha started. "How long have you served under Mustang's unit?"

"16 years," Riza answered promptly. Grumman could tell it would be hard to get answers from Riza, no matter who was questioning her.

"That's the longest among all the witnesses," noted Samantha. "How do you describe Mustang as your superior?"

She's using a different approach, noted Grumman. She's trying to squeeze more information out of Riza. Beside him, Olivier and Miles were whispering audibly at each other. He wondered if they were on Mustang's side despite having called to testify for Hakuro.

"General Roy Mustang," Riza began. Grumman wasn't sure if she was merely speaking his name or calling Roy's attention. "I must admit that he is not like other superiors. He often acts childish, immature, hot-tempered, and impatient."

Grumman couldn't agree more, and he could see Olivier nodding her head at the slightest.

"But nobody else leads and commands the same way he does. Sure, he works on his paperwork in a sporadic schedule, but he never fails to meet his duties. He always makes sure the entire team is well, always asks us if we are willing to do what he asks of us. He acknowledges that each of us has a choice, a trait that not many leaders possess. He gives us tasks of varying difficulty, even those we think we aren't capable of, making sure that we know that he believes in us." Riza looked ahead, seeming to be gazing directly at Roy. "And I hope he knows that we believe in him, too."

Grumman couldn't see the face Roy was making, as he was seated right behind him. But he could imagine how flustered he must have been by the way his shoulders tensed.

"Ms. Hawkeye, you mentioned he never fails to meet his duties, which is contradictory to evidence. Do you deny that Mustang left his post during the war against Drachma?"

"No, Ma'am," Riza answered bluntly. "I am simply stating that although he has left his post, he never left any of his responsibilities. I admit I found it foolish at first, but after coming to terms with all the duties he holds, I understood why he made that decision. Apart from being the General of East Headquarters, Roy Mustang is also a State Alchemist, the only one with such a high rank."

"But is he the only state alchemist?"

"No. But he is the only Flame alchemist." Riza looked like she was muttering poison out of her mouth. "If he weren't there to aid us in battle, Amestris would have lost a portion of the North to Drachma."

"And he chose his own team to come with him. Don't you think he is exhibiting a certain level of favoritism?"

"That I can never tell," Riza admitted. "But if you were to ask me, it was a matter of practicality. The request was abrupt, and there was not much time to screen for recruits. In addition, Jean Havoc and I were only enlisted through the acting-Fuhrer's recommendation. That also allows Mustang to make his own recommendations, as the head of the Eastern region. More men meant more chances of winning the battle, surely every officer is aware of that. Besides, Falman, Fuery, and Breda have less experience in managing East City, compared to Mustang's former team."

"No further questions."

Grumman leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. Riza was doing well, and he couldn't help but wonder if she'd maintain her composure after the prosecutor cross-examines her. He'd only hoped they would corner Hakuro's side anytime soon.

"You seem to be an expert in representing Mustang. Thus, I am going to ask you a direct question." The prosecutor stood with pride and conviction drew across his face, unfazed by Riza's testimony. "Do you think Mustang usually makes prejudicial judgments over his team, one that undermines the chain of command?"

"No, I don't believe he does. He knows when to appropriate his behavior, and he always gets his job done at the end of the day, despite delays."

"Let me rephrase the question," the prosecutor said, trying his best to maintain his poker face like he was about to drop his trump card. "Do you think Mustang has relations with you, one that adds prejudice to your judgment and affects both your performance?"

Riza paused, and Grumman noted that everyone held their breath along with him. There comes the unspoken question everyone had on Mustang and Hawkeye. All eyes were on Riza, sitting frozen beside the judge, her gaze focused at the audience, right at Roy Mustang. Then she slowly shook her head, lips pursed into a tight line.

"It is too bold of me to assume and say yes, and it is too confident for me to say no," Riza admitted, clearly in torment with herself.

The court fell silent. It was an answer nobody expected, yet everybody always knew. Grumman could feel the tension at the court rise. Perhaps what everybody wanted was an assurance that their hunch was right, or a confirmation that their theory is wrong. Riza's response was neither.

It was not until the prosecutor asked that the crowd came back to their senses. "Would you elaborate on that?"

Riza looked at the prosecutor, eye-to-eye. "Whatever relations I have with Mr. Mustang, we've always kept it within military boundaries. For as long as we are enlisted, there are no unnecessary meetings, no excessive comments, no inappropriate touches."

"So you deny the scandalous rumors?"

"Yes, I deny them all."

"But, Ms. Hawkeye, what makes you hesitate to firmly say no?"

Riza's lips parted, and for a moment Grumman could almost hear every heart beating to the same rhythm as Riza's. The Truth, and nothing but the Truth.

"Being a team for so long, we've learned to adapt to each other's working habits," she said, cutting the silence. "I get to do most of the paperwork, while he goes to most diplomatic meetings. It has been that way ever since, and we only learn to become better at managing time and productivity."

Riza shifted in her seat, taking a deep breath before proceeding, "However, such dynamics may also promote a routinary sense of responsibility and a higher chance of codependency. It might also prevent us from improving other skills, those we are not accustomed to. For instance, if I remain to be his subordinate for who knows when, the worst-case scenario is for the team, for us, to remain stagnant."

Nobody at the court moved a muscle, trying to process everything Riza had said. Grumman bit back his lip. Was it a confession? A rebuttal? It was confusing. There seems to be more about the case than they previously thought.

The prosecutor cleared his throat. "To clarify, you admit that you do not have inappropriate relations with Mustang?"

"Yes."

"And you admit such professional relations still affect his performance? Even at the minimum?"

Riza drew in a breath, and Grumman clicked his tongue. He knew there was no way out of it. "Yes."

The prosecutor straightened his back, satisfied with what he had extracted. "No further questions."

"Very well," The judge acknowledged. "The defense attorney may now re-direct their examination."

Grumman could feel his hands trembling. Although Riza had clarified that there were no inappropriate relations between them, she still admitted her tenure under Mustang would affect their performance. That still counts as fraternization. If the verdict finds Roy guilty, at least his punishment wouldn't be as severe as imprisonment. However, this would still affect his public standing, and Roy might not be promoted to Fuhrer in time for his retirement. They needed to entirely debunk Hakuro's claim, or else he might be the one to become the Fuhrer.

And this was their last shot.

Samantha came forth, bringing her notes along with her. "Ms. Hawkeye, you mentioned that your tenure might affect both of your performances. What exactly is your empirical basis?"

"Through progress reports, the promptness in following the schedule, and self-rating."

Samantha narrowed her eyes. "You were not asked to evaluate your superior?"

Grumman leaned forth, already pickup up where this was going.

"No, Ma'am. From what I know, we are being evaluated by our immediate superior, General Hakuro, just as we were being evaluated under Fuhrer Grumman in the past."

The crowd buzzed, and the fury that crossed Hakuro's face was not hard to miss. Grumman twirled his mustache. This was getting interesting.

"Silence in the court," the judge demanded, slamming the hammer on the desk. "Proceed with the questioning."

"According to the evidence presented, Mustang was evaluated not only through his immediate superior. To clarify, Ms. Hawkeye, were you aware of this?" Samantha asked firmly.

"No, I was not informed of any change in the appraisal system."

Hakuro raised his hand. "Mustang's team was not asked to evaluate him, because the observation logs were peer appraisals, not subordinate appraisals. Haven't we established that subordinate appraisals promote bias?"

"That would be contrary to the last-minute investigation you made on officers Havoc, Fuery, Breda, and Falman," asserted Samantha.

"It was to verify evidence."

"That defeats the purpose of not informing them then," Samantha argued. "Why only choose other officers to appraise Mustang, instead of including those who are directly working for him?"

Before the fuming Hakuro could answer, Samantha immediately asked Riza, "Ms. Hawkeye, why do you think there is a need to evaluate performance?"

"To establish compensation."

"Exactly. To establish compensation."

"Your honor, I believe this is irrelevant," the prosecutor asserted.

The judge waived a dismissive hand to him. "Go on."

"If there truly is a decline in Mustang's performance, according to the observation logs," Samantha turned to Roy, "then Mr. Mustang's salary should have been affected. Was there any decrease in your salary Mr. Mustang?"

Roy shook his head. "Not that I know of. The rates I received are in accordance with the standard appraisal, which is why I'm surprised to know I am being observed. I've sent my documents prior to this trial, you could use it to verify, Your Honor."

"To clarify, you were not aware that you were being evaluated?"

"Not a clue."

"Objection, Your Honor," the prosecutor said, slamming his hands on his desk. "They are questioning the defendant instead of the witness."

"I will allow," the judge leaned forward.

"So let me guess this straight," Samantha mused. "Based on the testimonies, the observation logs were not conducted with consent. Ms. Hawkeye, if the evaluation wasn't for compensation and does not include consent, why do you think there were observation logs in the first place?"

Riza did not think twice when she said, "A political motive."

"Objection, Your Honor!" Hakuro called out, mortified. "This testimony is based purely on assumption!"

The judge did not heed his plea, his prosecutor remaining silent.

"As is your evidence," Samantha spat. "It wasn't based on direct observation, nor was it motivated on properly evaluating Mustang's performance."

"But the scandals! Even the public is making assumptions," Hakuro said, indignant. "How else could I mend the reputation of the government with these rumors buzzing about everywhere I go."

Samantha ignored him. "Ms. Hawkeye, when did the rumors start?"

Riza leaned back, lacing her fingers together. "Late 1917."

"That is around the same time the observation logs started. Isn't it, General Hakuro?"

"It was because of the rumors that we started the observation!"

"So you do admit it wasn't for compensation," Samatha contended. "Then why do you need to appraise his performance instead of a personal investigation?"

"The observation logs are far more credible than hearsay or any of those mentioned!"

"Not as credible if it doesn't involve those who actually work directly with Mustang," Samantha contended. "Tell me, how did you convince these officers to evaluate Mustang and only Mustang?"

"I already told you, all dirt in the government must be polished!" Hakuro insisted.

"Were they forced to evaluate?"

"Of course not!"

"Were they properly compensated for it?"

"Of course!" Hakuro attested. "Ask Major-General Miles, who even declined the compensation! Everybody was well-compensated, even those who sneaked up to them and took pictures!" Hakuro was running his hands through his hair when he noticed everyone was looking at him in shock. "What? Why are you all looking at me like that?"

Grumman couldn't help but chuckle at the mess. In the end, everything did fall into place. He could hear Olivier beside him, muttering incomprehensible curses under her breath, before saying, "That corrupt bastard!" Before long, Grumman and Miles were restraining her from standing up and charging into the podium. She looked like she was about to strangle Hakuro.

The judge looked up to the crowd and it was not until then had Grumman seen Hakuro pale and shrink like a dog tucking its tail. "Bailiff, take the plaintiff into custody, where he will be charged for graft and defamation."

Hakuro resisted as the bailiffs pushed him up to his seat, yelling out his frustration for what Grumman believed to be "I was this close!". The bailiffs restrained him, and he slumped in their arms, seeming to accept his fate. Grumman knew Hakuro was always so uptight, yet he never knew he'd be this desperate to gain more power. Perhaps even the most lawful officers are susceptible to get their hands dirty in the name of power and prestige. Like a moth to a flame.

"In the matter of The State v. Roy Mustang, this case is dismissed."

The court erupted with screams of triumph. Everyone had their hands held up, roaring for their victory. The loudest was from Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Fuery at the back row farthest from the podium. They appear to be crying and wailing when Alex Armstrong suddenly hugged all of them at once, lifting them as if they were stuffed animals. Grumman scoffed at the sight. They certainly got away from writing their own observation journal, and thank god it was destroyed before anyone used it against them.

The only ones who weren't expressing their triumph were Roy and Riza. Riza was looking at Roy from the distance, her eyes bearing a wistful gaze. Seeing them frozen amidst the roaring crowd, it was as if they had a world of their own.

The judge cleared his throat. "Although dismissed, the juries noted that the case is still open for retrial, should there be different evidence presented in the future."

"I believe that would no longer be necessary, Your Honor," Riza suddenly remarked.

The jury furrowed his brow, and so did everyone else.

"If my tenure will eventually hamper both our productivity and career growth," Riza gave Roy a small, yearning smile, before turning back to the judge, "then I will resign from the military."

Author's Note:

Tell me what you think! Did you love it? What are your favorite parts?

I will no longer prolong the agony of waiting for the final chapter (because I love you all)

Final chapter: June 27, 2021, Sunday, 3:00 PM (PST)

will reveal everything there (I accidentally made it a Riza Hawkeye characters study hoho but it'll surely give us a comprehensive glimpse of what's truly going on between her and Roy). I've connected all the dots and parallelisms there too, for your convenience 3

still deciding whether I'd post the final chapter along with the first chapters of my wips:

1. meridian

12 years since The Promised Day, Amestris reopened its gates. Ed and Al's research became a global sensation: a new rule by the laws of the East and the West. It was their promise to help those who suffer from alchemy, one that would have spared the life of a little girl they couldn't save. However, alchemy isn't the only technology the world owns. As their knowledge expands, greater threats await. After all, every promise is a debt to be paid in the future. Starting when Roy was promoted to Führer, Riza hands him an envelope. It was her resignation letter.

2. primordial

Of the facets that Roy and Riza show, there's one side only they both know. A Roy and Riza Character and Relationship Study.

both will be in line with the RROJ universe, and both will be part of a series called 'quintessence'.

Let me know what you think!

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank my readers for getting this far into the story. I love you all, you always motivate me! Especially those who share your thoughts aaa you guys are so precious.

To Legally Blonde (2001) and I am Sam (2001) for helping me create a structure for this court trial. And Google search, of course. (can you believe I made this chapter based on "legally blonde" knowledge?! the power it holds)

To my s/o, for always beta-ing my fics.