Originally Published: June 17, 2021

Last Edited: September 1, 2022

Chapter 22

Advice

Tuesday, May 19, 1896

Roy sat at his desk, the surface crammed with alchemy books opened to graphs of different styles of transmutation circles. In his lap he held a sketch pad, mimicking a depiction of a circle meant to repair organic fibers in clothes. Crumpled on the floor were a pair of shorts he'd torn up at recess earlier that week, waiting for him to get the circle right so he could mend them.

A tap came from the thin wall before him, drawing his gaze up from his sketch. "Roy," Izumi's voice was muffled, her bed on the other side of the wall.

A few years ago, Chris had a room open up. Rather than hire a new girl, she'd divided the room with partitions and given Roy and Izumi their own beds and study spaces. When it had first happened, he had still been little enough to cry over the separation, but now he was grateful for it. Even if it was a crammed, half room, in a bar full of girls, it was good to have his own space.

"Yeah?" he called, setting his sketch pad aside.

"I need your help," she explained, voice still heavily muffled.

"One sec!" he got up, extracting himself from his clutter and stumbling out of his door. Izumi's door was right there, the door to the upstairs hall a step to his right. Moving forward he opened her door, poking his head in.

She was curled up in her bed, face down on the pillows and clutching her stomach. Despite the afternoon hour, she'd switched to her pajamas, her dark hair wildly spread across her head and pillows.

"What's up, Zumi?"

"Get me an aspirin and my hot water bottle- please," she moaned, shifting slightly and pulling a pillow to her abdomen.

He cringed, a slimy feeling crawling across his skin. He stuck his tongue out, silently gagging. It had been a couple of weeks, after all. He should have expected this.

"'Kay," he mumbled, closing her door again. He stepped out of the room's proper door, heading for the back staircase.

Emma's door was open and as he passed she offered a friendly, "Hey, Roy! Is that alchemy stuff melting your brain yet?"

He paused, taking a step back to look in her room. She had a bottle of nail polish out and was sitting on the end of her bed, painting her toes. Her flowy, emerald green skirt was high up her thighs, his eyes dropping briefly to stare before he forced his gaze on her face.

"No, Zumi's on her period again," he shuddered as he mentioned that horror of female anatomy, trying not to think too much about it. "She asked me to get her aspirin and bottle."

Emma tinkled a laugh, tossing her red hair over her shoulders. "You know, it's bad, but it's not as bad as you paint it to be. Besides, it's not like you'll ever have one."

His face heated, "Yeah, I guess," he shuffled awkwardly.

She met his eyes, a playful smirk on her lips. "Can I tell you something?"

"W-what?"

"Do you know the difference between men and boys? It isn't some sense of masculinity, or having a job," she smiled, head tilting. Then her smile vanished, becoming a scowl. "And neither is it how many conquests you've had. Uck. Guys like that are just dicks, nothing else."

"Okay. So what is it?" he asked, curious. He'd heard older boys arguing over the defining line between being a boy and a man, but he'd never heard a proper conclusion before. Besides, he was a bit young to be worried about that.

Her smile was back, "It's how good you are to women. Especially on their periods. Once you can handle periods with maturity and kindness, you will be a man."

"But- I am kind," Roy protested.

"You're forgetting the maturity part, Roy-Boy. Despite what people say, women can hide their periods really well. So don't blame a woman's cranky mood on her time of month and don't be so grossed out by a natural, bodily function. When you can do that, then you'll be a man."

That was all well and good, but he clearly wasn't a man yet. The concept still disgusted him completely. He supposed that was alright, he was only ten and a half. Still, something she'd said bothered him. "You said women can hide it, but Izumi ends up bed ridden for a few days each month," he pointed out.

Emma hesitated, putting her nail polish aside. "Sure, all periods suck, but for some women it's worse than others. Izumi's one of those. Anyways, you should go help her out."

He nodded as he left her, his feet picking up as he rushed down the stairs. He passed the bathrooms and grabbed the kitchen door handle, pushing it open with his shoulder as he trotted in. He stopped suddenly when he realized the room was occupied.

At the sturdy oak table sat a grim, graying blond haired officer, round spectacles hiding his eyes. His arm was wrapped around a silver haired woman, weeping softly on his shoulder. His aunt sat across from them, hands folded in front of her on the table. All three sets of eyes turned their focus on him. The officer slowly took off his glasses and set them aside, exposing his haggard, violet eyes.

"Grab what you need and go, Roy," Chris instructed calmly.

He hesitated. "I need to boil some water for Izumi's bottle," he explained shyly.

Chris exhaled tiredly, "The bottle is going to have to wait. Grab the aspirin and some chocolate and apologize for me. The Grummans' need some privacy right now. You can take a candy bar for yourself, too."

He eyed his aunt. She didn't seem angry or upset- at least not at him. Why was she offering him candy?

The weeping woman's hazel eyes swam with more tears, her focus still on him as she began to tremble. She clutched to the front of the officer's jerkin as tears began spilling down her pretty and weathered face. "Oh my god! Little Riza's alone with him!" She turned to look pleadingly at what Roy guessed was her husband, "Michael, we have to get her away! We have to bring her home and raise her ourselves. What if Berthold… I can't lose my granddaughter to that monster too!"

"Sarah," he soothed, hugging her tightly, pulling her face against his chest and resting his chin on her head. Roy's eyes latched onto his rank insignia, mind rushing to identify it: Major General.

"Roy, I need you to go," Chrissy urged, standing up and rounding the table, comfortingly squeezing both of their shoulders.

Spurred into motion, he rushed to the cabinet filled with women's products. He had no idea what most of them did, but he quickly snatched the aspirin, bottle, and two candy bars from the stash. Closing the cabinet, he ran out, not glancing back until he was in the hall, making sure the door shut behind him.

"Hey, kid," Gwen's lower timber drew his attention. She was behind the Bar with Millie and Rachel, tapping her fingernails on the countertop slowly. "Try to remember to listen before you barge into rooms."

"I… It's the kitchen…" he stammered.

"Yeah, and the Madame has a lot of friends," Millie sniffed.

Roy hunched his shoulders, ducking his head guiltily. "I just… I was just getting Izumi's stuff."

Rachel and Millie pulled away, Rachel shaking her head as she muttered, "I'm just glad it wasn't during an information transfer."

Gwen loitered, watching him with a sharp gaze. She finally sighed, her fingers stilling on the counter. "You should be fine, Roy-Boy. That couple in there just found out their son-in-law killed their daughter. Some freak alchemy accident or something. Just- try to be a bit more respectful next time."

He nodded hastily, backing up and rushing upstairs again.

In his and Izumi's sectioned off room, he ducked through the door, moving to her side. She turned her head, a single eye visible as she watched him fumble with the candies and the aspirin. "Two?" she asked weakly.

"Chrissy said I could have one," he rushed, realizing he'd grabbed the hot bottle for no reason.

She pushed herself up, sitting cross legged with her back leaning against the narrow wall, raking her loose hair back. She kept a pillow clutched to her abdomen, watching him as he opened the aspirin. "What'd you do to deserve candy?"

The way she asked made the answer clear. Sure, Chris didn't have time to scold him about his careless behavior right now, but he'd still messed up. "I… Chrissy had some guests in the kitchen. A Major General and probably his wife? The wife was bawling about something. Gwen thinks their daughter died."

"So?" she asked, accepting the pills from him and popping them in her mouth, swallowing without water.

"Well, I walked in on them when I went to get your things," Roy shrugged, offering her a candy bar.

"Ah," she nodded sagely, ripping open her candy.

"Gwen and Millie scolded me, and Rachel said something about an information transfer. Do you know what that's about?" he asked, taking a seat in her desk's chair.

Her dark eyes met his as she slowly bit into her chocolate, her cheeks puckering as she began sucking on the piece. "I know about it," she relented, head tilting to one side, "Chrissy's trying to talk me into doing it with her…"

Curiosity piqued, he sat up, scooting to the edge of the chair. "Yeah?"

"She doesn't really want you to know," she cautioned. "Besides, it's girl stuff."

His shoulders sagged, hope deflated. "Oh…"

She grabbed a pillow, throwing it. He barely had the chance to start before it nailed him in the face, making the chair wobble. "Ow! What was that for?" he demanded.

"To make you feel better," she shrugged, picking up her cold hot water bottle, frowning. "I want to turn her down, though. I want to be an alchemist. I want to find romance and settle down with a man I love. Have a few kids and be a housewife. Not… I don't want to be a prostitute," she finished in a whisper.

"She wants you to…? Really?"

"Yeah. She thinks I'd be good at it. Again, I don't want to. Don't tell her, I have to do that myself. Besides, I won't be turning eighteen until December anyways."

Roy sat back in the chair, troubled by the information. Imagining Izumi wearing skimpy dresses and sitting on strangers laps seemed so foreign- and wrong. It wasn't like Chrissy was trying to force her into it. Right?

Izumi set her unfinished candy on her nightstand, "Hey, Roy," she broached gently, curling up in her pillows and sheets again.

"Yeah?"

"When you get the chance, I'd really appreciate this warmed up," she held out the water bottle, her expression still slightly pained.

He took it, "Of course," he whispered, an idea popping up in the back of his mind. "It should only take me a minute," he promised, grabbing her own alchemy sketchbook. He shook the bottle, making sure there was still liquid inside and was met by a sloshing sound.

Grabbing a pencil, he sketched a circle, the lines coming quickly as it had been one of the first transmutations he'd learned. He set the bottle in the middle once it was completed, resting a hand on the edge of the circle.

Hydrogen and oxygen molecules. They just needed energy to heat up. The still new sensation of electrical currents ran down his arm as he activated the circle and within seconds he was done.

Picking up the bottle, the rubber was warm, and the longer he held it, the hotter it felt.

"Good speed," Izumi murmured as he turned around, passing it over to her. "This is great," she praised, a slight light to her weary eyes.

He smiled, pride swelling in his chest. "If- if you need anything else, just knock," he offered, grabbing his candy bar and retreating from the room.

"Sure. Right," she murmured, nestling the bottle between her stomach and a pillow. "Thanks," she called out softly after him.

Sunday, September 29, 1918

Roy stepped up to the master bedroom doorway, leaning on the frame as he slipped his hands into his pockets.

Riza was zipping up her duffle bag at the foot of their bed, her clothes and toiletries packed away for the coming week or two. Hayate watched her between the two of them, his head tilting in puzzlement.

Her eyes lifted as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh, I thought you left," she paused, halfway through pulling her bag over her shoulder.

"Without saying goodbye?" he asked, pushing himself off the doorway, stepping in.

"You'll see me at work tomorrow," she dismissed, avoiding his gaze as she hoisted the duffle up. She rounded Hayate and him, moving to the door. "Besides, aren't you scheduled to pick up your aunt shortly?"

"The girls can handle that. I'll catch up with them," he reassured, following after her. "Can I carry your bag?"

She glanced back at him, her grip tightening on the strap. "I- I'm fine, Sir," she turned away from him, his gut reaction sending his hand to catch her elbow, pulling her to a stop.

"Riza," he whispered, stepping to her and taking her chin with his free hand. As he tilted her face, she hesitated to meet his gaze, pain in her amber eyes.

"Roy, I…"

"It's two weeks. Maybe less than that," he reassured.

"Maybe more," she countered, gaze sharpening. After a moment her shoulders sagged, "It won't be enough, just seeing you at work. Not after what we've had."

"What we have," he corrected. "We've done harder things than this. We'll be fine." He wished he could reassure himself of the same.

She nodded soberly, a darkness entering her eyes. She turned from him again, pulling away and descending the stairs. "Rebecca will be here soon. There's no need for you to loiter."

"No, but I want to," he explained, following after her into the finally furnished front room.

The blue and white rug set the tone of the room, the floral print hiding bits of green. The bay window was blocked off by a sheer set of curtains, tacked down to the wall for privacy. A thicker set of sea green curtains were drawn, letting orange light stream in from the sunset outside.

There were two armchairs in the room, mostly white upholstery embroidered with cream colored thread, giving a floral impression. Their backs were to the bay window, a mahogany chess table in between them. The chess pieces were set, white and red mahogany to match the board. Roy had picked it for the coloring, the Red King and White Queen drawing his eyes- far apart and separated on opposite sides of the board.

The other two walls were hidden by tall bookcases. His alchemy, physics, chemistry, tactics, and political science books neatly arranged by topic. A single shelf near the bottom in the corner held Riza's small collection of poetry books, tiny compared to her mother's and her grandfather's.

Despite her minimal presence in the room, the space reminded him of her. Cool, calm, and studious.

She carefully set her duffle near the door, brushing her skirt flat as she straightened back up. She hesitated, looking around the room, again avoiding where he stood at the foot of the stairs.

"Do you have any photos you want on the walls?" she asked, smoothly moving towards the kitchen.

He raised an eyebrow, following in her wake. "There you are, showing your domestic side again," he pointed out.

She bent down, grabbing Hayate's water and empty food bowl. She emptied the former in the sink, shaking it dry. "Again?"

"I- noticed the other day," he shrugged, moving to the pantry and pulling out Hayate's kibble bag. "I can find some pictures if you'd like to hang them."

"Only if you have time, Sir. Your aunt should be your priority at home."

He frowned, closing the panty door. He reached out, catching her elbow again as she tried to pass him. She met his eyes, that familiar, stoic mask back in place. Major Hawkeye. "Not here," he shook his head, "Not now, Reez."

"What?"

Adjusting the kibble in his arm, he pulled closer, pressing a kiss to her lips. The muscles in her face were tense and he held until she finally relaxed, returning the display. He pulled back, meeting her confused and worried eyes.

Massaging her arm with his thumb, he answered, "It's 'Roy', my love. Not 'Sir'. Not here. Not now."

Pain flooded her face for a moment before she threw her arms around him, hugging him as Hayate's bowls bumped his shoulder blades. He grunted, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You know, I could hug you back better if I wasn't carrying a bag of dog food."

Something between a laugh and a sob broke from her throat as she squeezed him tighter, rocking him slightly. A knock came at the door, but Riza didn't pull away, so neither did he.

"That'll be Rebecca," she whispered against his ear.

"If we take too long, she'll break a window again."

Another sad laugh broke from her, a silence following. His eyes fell to the walnut table on the other side of the bar. Her bouquet was standing in a vase at the center, to be left behind with him and Chris. "I don't want to go," she finally croaked.

He tightened his arm around her, trembling with the effort. He pulled back, catching her hand with his and squeezing her fingers. "I'll see you tomorrow, Àirén."

She gave a teary eyed smile, nodding. "Right. Of course. Come on, Hayate, we're going to stay with Becca for a few days."

"Pull out the wine, the Madame's back!" One of the newer girls from over the last three years exclaimed with joy. Roy thought her name was Jules, or Julie, or Juliet… something like that. She was pretty with sleek, chocolate colored hair and sea green eyes, but she was so- young. She couldn't be more than twenty, and the thought of their age gap made him uncomfortable. If he was still using the playboy cover, he would have had to flirt and date and even kiss this child of a woman.

"No wine, she's still recovering," Vanessa sighed as she and Roy supported Chris over the threshold of the front door. Chris's breath was heavy and up this close, Roy could see a green tint entering her face.

"We need to sit her down," Roy warned, darting a glance at the closest armchair.

"I'd prefer- a couch. I was endowed with a- large set of hips," Chris wheezed.

Roy nodded ahead as Vanessa took charge, "Bethany, that bathroom has a pail under the sink. Get it here pronto. Kate, check the kitchen for saltines. Jules, grab a pillow, there should be some in that closet."

"Should I be bothered that you know my house better than I do?" Roy asked as they made their way to the living room.

The couches matched the upholstery of the armchairs in the front room, the space now properly staged. The red and white rug shared the floral pattern of the one in the front room, the thick drapes a deep maroon.

Roy briskly nudged the coffee table out of the way as he and Vanessa eased Chris down on the end cushion of the larger couch. She leaned back, her breath ragged as she lifted a hand to press against her wound.

"Let's elevate her feet," Vanessa murmured as Jules arrived with a pillow. "Put that between her and the armrest."

Roy grimaced, gently taking off Chris's slippers and guiding her feet onto the cushions, letting the girls help situate her upper body.

Bethany showed up with a small, metal pail, Vanessa taking it from her and offering it to Chris. She shook her head, waving it away as she closed her eyes, her face pale.

Anxiety creeped into Roy's veins, his head beginning to spin. He had to back up, covering his mouth with a hand. Kate stepped in with a sleeve of saltines and he processed that he wasn't needed.

Roy retreated, opening the back door and stepping onto the wooden porch. Cool air greeted him as he dug a hand through his hair, moving to the railing. He rested his elbows on it, head down and between his hands as he took slow breaths, his heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears.

He wasn't certain how long he was out there, moment's seeming to both drag and fly by. The slow click of high heels approaching warned him he'd been found, though.

"Roy?" Vanessa broached, her steps joining him on the porch. "She's doing better. It was probably just the exertion…" Her hand grazed his back between his shoulder blades, his skin bristling with the touch. He straightened, snatching her wrist, the suddenness of movement cutting her off. Her stormy blue eyes widened in surprise, painted lips parted.

He took a shaky breath, easing his grip on her wrist. "Please, don't. Ri… Elizabeth doesn't…" He let her go, pushing his bangs out of his face as he focused on calming his breath again. "Elizabeth didn't like all the casual touching and flirting between us at the party. I know you don't mean anything by it, but where I don't have to keep pretending to be a playboy anymore, I'd prefer it stop too."

"I... Right. I- I forgot," she trailed off, lowering her hand. "I'm just so used to... I'll respect that boundary, Roy. God knows I work with enough dickheads who don't know how to do that."

"Thanks," he murmured, leaning on the railing again. "Chris is better?"

"Mhm. She was wondering where you ran off to."

"It's- hard to see her that way. I suppose I didn't realize how much I was relying on Elizabeth and now she's gone."

Vanessa joined him, hands clasped as she leaned next to him. "She's not gone. She's just- back to where she's been."

Roy shuddered, "Which is just as difficult. I should be fine at work, but it's going to be hard until she comes back. I- haven't been sleeping well, even with her."

Vanessa gave him a sympathetic smile. "I can imagine. Come on, Roy. Chris could use you right now," she prompted, pushing off the railing and stepping back inside.

Exhaling heavily, he ran a hand through his hair again, mentally preparing himself to go back in. He could do this. He had to.

He pushed his way back inside, closing the door softly behind him. Moving from the dining room into the living room, Chris drew his eyes. Reclined on the couch, her face was a healthy shade again, though her eyelids were heavy. Kate and Vanessa had settled on the loveseat, Jules and Bethany currently missing.

"There he is. Hey, Roy, who decorated your house? I always heard you can't decorate worth shit," Kate asked, knees crossing under her skirt.

Roy chuckled quietly, pulling out an ignition glove and slipping it on. "Elizabeth came from Central to help out," he half lied, "She was already coming for my birthday, and when she heard I was bringing the Madame here, she insisted."

"Elizabeth was in town? Roy! I've known about her for five years and I still haven't met her! Why didn't you bring her to the party?" Kate scolded, her brown eyes wide with outrage.

"Elizabeth is a very private person. Always has been," Chris dismissed.

"I'm starting to think she doesn't exist," Kate mumbled.

"Oh, she's very real," Vanessa smiled. "Trust me," she reassured, touching Kate's thigh lightly.

Roy moved over to the mantle, resting his bare hand on the molding and snapping the logs alight. "I was hoping you ladies could give me some advice," Roy broached, his mind on Riza.

"Advice?" Bethany asked, shuffling into the room. He looked in her direction, her arms supporting a large box. Jules was behind her, carrying another. "What advice?"

"What's this?" Roy asked, rising to his full height.

Bethany set her box on the table, making sure it was balanced correctly. "Your birthday presents," she answered simply. "Some of the wrapping might be crumpled, but you sort of abandoned them at the Bar Wednesday night."

"I had other priorities," he mumbled, lifting a flap on one of the cardboard boxes. Packages and gift wrap met his peek inside, curiosity prodding at him as he opened it completely. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his glasses so he could read the gift tags.

"Well, you can open them now," Vanessa lilted, snagging a small, gray, velvet jewelry box from the pile of packages. Roy paused, meeting her playful gaze. He silently held out his palm, waiting for her to hand it back. "Come on, Roy! Save the best for last."

"Please hand it over," Roy requested sufferingly.

She sighed, passing it over. He didn't need to read the name tag, but Hawkeye caught his eye as he loosened the twine, tossing the paper tag and string into the fire behind him.

He opened the box, pulling out a cufflink to hold it up to the light for examination. An Amestrian sigil was engraved at the center of the circle, the silver reflecting the fire light behind him. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he pulled his sleeves properly into place, fumbling to put it on.

"Come on, Roy, you're going to take all night if you try to wear everything given to you," Kate laughed.

"This is special," he dismissed, successfully snapping the first link into place, switching to the other. "Give one to the Madame. In fact, all of you, go ahead, help me open them," he invited, struggling with the second link.

"How about you tell us what you want advice on, Roy-Boy," Chris suggested, her authority clear in the room as the girls didn't move with his invitation.

Roy finally clipped on the second link, trying to form the words before speaking. "How… Well, since I've returned from Ishval I've seriously been considering…"

He had to stop, swallowing hard. The five women watched him with curious and concerned expressions. "Roy?" Vanessa prompted softly.

"How do I pick out an engagement ring?"

"For Elizabeth?" "Is that why you want to stop the playboy game?" "You know you're asking a group of prostitutes, right?"

Chris held his gaze evenly, her navy gaze calculating. As the girls hushed with Vanessa's promptings, their focus turned to Chris, anticipation in the air.

"I've waited a long time to hear that question from you." A smile graced her mouth, her tired eyes closing. "Are you interested in your mother's ring at all?"

"My… I didn't even know you had it."

"Of course I have it. I just never brought it up because…" she cut off, eyes opening to note present company. "I was going to give it to Izumi," she finally supplied. Roy suspected her original answer was going to be something else, but he wasn't certain. It was a good cover up if it was.

"We'll find her, Madame. We will!" Bethany reassured, moving behind Chris and resting a hand on her shoulder.

A sour expression crossed Chris's mouth, "Bull shit! It's been twenty years, 52 informants, endless hours of research and investigations and we've found nothing. Not even a gravestone or a border crossing record. I have never had a piece of information be this elusive before."

"She could be a Jane Doe. Have we checked…" Jules began.

"Every few months," Vanessa answered.

"And we have access to a lot of Military records through Roy," Kate nodded.

"Damn girl," Chris whispered, closing her eyes and relaxing against the couch. "If she's alive, she doesn't want to be found. I've passed up the opportunity to move the East City Bar to larger or newer buildings several times so she could come back. And Roy's a huge public figure in the news across the country, especially since the Promised Day. If she wanted to come back, she could just go back to him. God, she doesn't even have to come back to me. All I want is to know she's alive and safe. I get it if she still blames me for everything and wants nothing to do with me."

A heavy silence followed her words, Roy fidgeting slightly, his back having grown uncomfortably warm with the fire. "What if she went to Xing?" he whispered, tucking the jewelry box he'd absently been fidgeting with into his overstuffed pocket. "It's hard to keep track of border crossings into the desert, and she might have gone to try to find our grandparents."

Grandparents. The Mustangs had died before Roy had been born, and the Chens? They had immigrated to Amestris when his mother was only two or three years old. They'd raised her in Amestris and a few years after his parents married and had Izumi, they'd decided to go back. Roy hadn't had any contact with them his entire life and he didn't necessarily expect to ever have the opportunity.

"Do you have any idea how large of a country Xing is?" Chris growled, shooting him a glare.

"Yes. Yes, I do," Roy replied flatly. With all the planning involved with establishing the railroad to Xing, he was painfully aware of the size and population of the larger country. "I'm just saying, if we have nothing else, maybe we can hope she's living happily there. With a man she loves and the children she wanted."

Chris grunted, "Are you giving up?"

"Well, it sounds like you are," Roy shrugged. "Sure, I want to see her again, but as you said, if she wanted to see me, she'd come find me. I'm far from hiding. Besides, it's been a long time- and she left me behind. What would I even say to her?"

"Here we are!" Rebecca sang, pushing open her front door around her armful of doggie kibble. Hayate's leash dangled from her wrist that clutched a bag of take-out to her chest.

"Yep, I was here a few weeks ago," Riza reminded as she followed her in, lightly kicking the door shut behind them.

The state of the apartment was about what she expected. The moving boxes that had been there two weeks ago were gone now, replaced by smatterings of dirty dishes and empty food cartons. The last time they'd roomed together had been at the Academy, and with every inspection (which had occurred daily), Rebecca had always madly dashed to clean up her messes at the last second.

"Way to take the fun out of it, Reez," Rebecca teased, dropping off the kibble and food on the bar before bending down to release Hayate. "Put your stuff away and let's eat!"

Riza hesitated in the living room, moving to the closer door on the left, she cracked it open, finding the full sized bed with messed bedding. Clothes were scattered across the floor, dresser, and sheets, making it clear to her the room was occupied. Closing it quickly, she moved to the door on the right side of the room, opening it more confidently.

It was smaller and cleaner than the other room, a striped pink and mellow yellow comforter covered the twin sized bed. The closet door was open, showing the space stuffed with extra clothes. A dresser sat under the window, its blinds cracked open to let in light from the street lamps. A door on the wall opposite of the window drew her steps, and looking inside she found a small, three-fourths bathroom, just barely big enough to hold the standing shower, toilet, counter, and sink.

Small, but quaint. It would keep her for the coming two weeks just fine.

She dropped her bag off on the bed before returning to the living room. Rebecca had a box of Xingese stir fry in her lap and was sitting sideways and cross legged on one end of the couch. Twirling her noodles around her fork, she smiled up at Riza, "Come on, before it gets cold."

Riza lowered herself to the other end of the couch, twisting to face her, one ankle dangling over the edge. "I ate earlier," she waved off when Rebecca gestured to the second box and fork.

"And you don't eat enough," Rebecca countered. "I saw how clean the General's house was. It's been a couple hours at least."

Sighing, Riza picked up the box, popping it open. "Let me cook some meals while I'm here. You eat out too much."

"Kitchen's all yours," Rebecca offered around a mouthful.

Riza took a fork-load, hesitating as she moved to put it in her mouth. "There's not any shellfish in this, right?"

Rebecca coughed, pushing her back off the armrest as she sat up, swallowing. "Fuck no! I'm not trying to kill my best friend!" Reassured, she put it in her mouth, silently dissecting the taste. "So, thanks for talking to Jean the other day. He spent the last few nights over here because of it," Rebecca reported, poking at her noodles.

Swallowing, Riza nodded. "Of course. I- I can say I understand now," she admitted, cheeks heating. "I'll probably understand more after this stay."

"That's right! I forgot you just lost your virginity. Mmm," she gave her a sly look, eyebrows wiggling playfully.

"So?" Riza asked, shrugging with her fork.

"You're going to get super horny in a few days. Especially after living with him the last two weeks. I know you won't talk about it, but I also know how much you two have been…" she lifted her fists by her shoulders, biting her lower lip as she playfully thrusted her hips twice.

The embarrassment of the statement and lewd gesture were lost on Riza. Her expression grew stoic as she emotionally shut off.

Rebecca faltered, lowering her hands slowly. "What's wrong?"

Riza dropped her eyes to her stir fry, pushing the noodles and vegetables absently with her fork. "How many of the pictures did you see?"

Rebecca was quiet for a long moment before answering, "I didn't. I found the envelope with the negatives as the receipt. I didn't have the time to look at the film."

A mix of emotions made her lift her eyes to Becca again. Hope, relief, surprise, and- disappointment?

Rebecca's expression was sympathetic, her head tilting softly, "Riza, I am so sorry you were violated like that." She bent forward, gently grabbing her wrist and squeezing it. "Jean mentioned how explicit they were, and I- I'm just so sorry."

Riza held her chocolate eyes for a long moment, heart racing as she realized something: She didn't want to hide it from Rebecca anymore.

She moved her food to the coffee table, breaking Rebecca's grip on her. "I need to talk to you about something," she admitted. "You know- you know my father was physically abusive, but there's something else he did I can never forgive him for."

Rebecca blinked, clearly surprised at the apparent shift in topic. "Oh?" she offered weakly.

"See, there's a reason I dress so modestly. I don't care if someone sees me. I care if they see my back."

"Your scar?" Rebecca guesses, her voice hushed.

"I asked- I asked for that scar. It wasn't some war wound."

Rebecca's brow furrowed, shaking her head slightly. "I'm not following," she admitted.

Riza inhaled sharply, coming to a decision. She stood up, turning her back on Rebecca. She pulled her hair over the front of her shoulder and swiftly unbuttoned her shirt. As air brushed her skin, she realized it was colder than she had anticipated.

She shrugged off the fabric, gathering it in her arms. Her shoulders hunched involuntarily, giving Rebecca a moment to process.

"Wait… That's Mustang's… What is this?"

Riza turned, sitting back down on the cushion. "My father's alchemy research. The key to Flame Alchemy." Rebecca's brow furrowed, her lips downturned. "The madman's prize. Without asking me, he drugged me and put it on my skin. Roy was gone that day but he came by the next to inform my father he was leaving his apprenticeship to join the Academy. When he came back and my father died, I showed him, and gave him Flame Alchemy.

"Order 3066 happened. Then I was deployed. I saw what he was being ordered to do with Flame Alchemy, and it wasn't what I'd wanted. Then," her hands shook, curling tighter into her shirt, "I was sexually assaulted by Major Solf J. Kimblee. Of all people, it had to be that monster of an alchemist. I'm still haunted by the hypothetical: What if he'd seen my back? What if he'd taken Flame Alchemy from me? The results would have been devastating. I couldn't let it happen.

"So, I asked Roy to burn it off. I wanted it all gone but Roy fought back. Just the key parts."

A silence followed, Riza staring at her shirt. Rebecca shifted next to her, her arms wrapping around her tightly. "It's not fair. You're such a good person, but you seem to always be dealt bad cards."

Hesitantly, she lifted a hand to hold Rebecca's arm, leaning into the hug. "That's life. And after some of my own decisions, I can't say I deserve better."

Rebecca pulled away, Riza following to meet her eyes. "You're doing what you can do to make restitutions. That's more than a lot of people would do." Riza turned forward again, pulling her shirt open again and slipping it back on. "So, why are you telling me now?"

"Several of the pictures clearly depicted my back. I didn't want you accusing Roy for something I begged him to do."

"How does he handle it? If it really was so hard for him to burn, how does he react when he sees it?"

Buttoning up her front again, she conceded, "He struggles. We both do. That was the night he rejected me."

Rebecca's eyes widened, a soft "oh," leaving her lips. She relaxed, growing sober and reflective, her gaze dropping. "Oh."

The girls had gone back to the Bar, leaving Roy to tuck Chris into the guest bed. She laid reclined on a mountain of pillows, watching him as he set a glass of water and bottle of pain pills within reach. The pail from earlier was sitting beside her on the bed, ready in case she grew sick.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not against it," she broke in, voice low. "You and Riza have been nearly inseparable since that first summer you spent in Harsten. You make each other better people, and fuck, I've never know a couple as devoted to each other as you are."

"But?" Roy prompted, his voice rumbling in the back of his throat as he adjusted her pillow recline, stuffing a loose one back in.

"How the hell are you going to marry her? Is she going to leave the Military? Are you going to elope? Don't you dare tell me it's you who's going to step down, because I've worked my ass off trying to get you to the top and so has she."

He chuckled weakly, "No, I'm not quitting unless we get discovered and dishonorably discharged. Riza would have my ass after all the effort."

"I'm pretty certain she already has it," Chris smirked.

He laughed openly at that, checking on her. "I don't have a plan yet. Right now it's more of a promise ring."

"You could marry secretly," Chris suggested.

"That option isn't off the table. We've talked about it, though, and she was adamant that you would get better so you could be at our wedding," he smiled, lightly settling on the edge of the bed.

"Good. I'd better be there or I'll be the one having your ass." She reached out, taking his hand. "So, are you interested in your mother's ring? I have your father's too and they make a striking set."

He hesitated, trying to recollect either ring and coming up with nothing. "I don't remember what they look like. I'd like to see them before deciding."

She hummed softly, closing her eyes. "I'll have one of the girls bring them over."

His mouth twitched, on the edge of smiling. He squeezed her hand, leaning over to kiss her forehead. "Thank you. I'll let you rest and leave the doors cracked so I can hear you if you need help."

"I've been sleeping pretty well, and this is more comfortable than the hospital bed."

Standing again, he smirked. "Well, if I remember right, you're the one who chose it."

"I will neither confirm nor deny that," she evaded as he turned off the light.

"Of course not. Good night- Chrissy," he tried, hoping she wouldn't scold him for the moniker.

"Good night, Roy-Boy."

Smiling, he left the door partially open and the hall light on. Crossing to the master, he stopped inside, eyes loitering on the empty bed. He could practically imagine her in the warm, artificial light, laying shirtless with her decorated back facing the door, her golden locks splayed across the pillows and the sheets pulled up to cover below her waist.

Sober, he dressed down to his boxers, turning off the light before climbing into bed. Facing her side of the bed, he grabbed a pillow, pulling it to his chest. Burying his face against it, he inhaled the lavender scent of her shampoo, mixed with her signature gunpowder.

He squeezed the pillow tighter, a hollowness in his chest. Closing his eyes, he began imagining how he would greet her at work in the morning. How he'd steal her away and sneak forbidden kisses, recalling her soft, plump lips against his. How he'd send her secret codes reminding her of how much he loved her.

They were so pleasant, he was unaware of slipping into actual dreams.

Freshly showered, Riza toweled her hair dry as she sat on the edge of the small bed. Hayate watched her, whining softly.

"I miss him too," she guessed, letting her towel fall to the ground as she wrapped Hayate in her arms. He nestled his small body against her more, nudging her arms insistently with his nose.

"Fine, let me turn off the lights," she smiled weakly. She picked up the fallen towel, discarding it on the bathroom sink before turning the lights off. Eyes adjusting to the dark, she pulled the sheets back, climbing in with Hayate.

The bed creaked as she lay on her back, the mattress less comfortable than the pillow top Roy had spoiled her with the last two weeks. Hayate circled twice before cuddling next to her side, his chin resting on her stomach. His eyes looked down between her legs, Riza projecting her own concern onto him.

Two days. Two days and she still wasn't bleeding. Two days of light flow, then nothing.

Maybe it was just heavy spotting? If that was the case then her actual period should start tomorrow or the day after.

Exhaling a heavy breath slowly through her nostrils, she closed her eyes, trying not to let it trouble her further.

She'd have plenty of time to worry if her period didn't come back.