Colonel Roy Mustang frowns at me, tapping away at the counter. T-T-T-Tap. T-T-T-Tap. It's frustrating. Irritating, really. The frequent noises. His stone hard stare. With a childish stubbornness, I glare right on back, challenging his reason for standing there, disturbing me. As if I needed anymore problems.
Tap. Tap. T-T-T-Tap.
What did this jerk want? Hadn't he had enough, catching me in the midst of humiliation? Burning me not once, but twice?
Tap. T-Tap. T-T-T-Tap.
And could he stop with the annoying taps? Why was he here?
Riza clears her throat. The Colonel and I hardly pass her a glance, locked in each other's eyes. Non-romantically.
"I hate to interrupt your… intense conversation… but I'm going to ask one more time," Riza's voice speaks, seemingly distant. Roy barely blinks. I continue my demonstration of hostility. Riza sighs.
"Don't kill each other while I'm gone," she pleads, pocketing her keys and heading towards the door. My attention was finally drawn.
"Wait," I call out, breaking away from Roy's unchanging expression. "What? You're leaving me with him?" There's a detectable whininess in my tone, but it's beside the point. Me. Stuck with the flame alchemist? Alone? Could this be punishment from yesterday's scene? Was there any way I could just apologize and have this man kicked out, now?
But before I could drop to my knees and beg, the door slammed shut and it was official.
I was stuck in a tiny apartment with the Colonel.
Tap. T-Tap. Tap. T-T-Tap.
Back to the glaring war, then. His fingers kept on drumming. His mouth in an almost insulting scowl. My jaw twitches.
"Why, exactly, are you here?" I force through my teeth, wishing so very much to have my trusty sword with me. It's been four or five days, healing and bearing through this torture. A couple of times I went right back to my adventurous search for my things, only to no avail. Each time ending in a scolding from being caught red-handed in the act by Riza.
Occasionally. The Colonel must be allowed to visit, occasionally.
Mentally, I curse the Lieutenant. Had it been worth it? Concealing the wings in exchange for allowing the Colonel to visit? Can I change my mind?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He didn't answer. He didn't even acknowledge my question, which really pissed me off.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Okay. He seriously needed to stop. Like right now. Before I rip his throat out.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Ta-
"WOULD YOU FREAKING STOP?" my voice raises and I break into a fitful cough, thankfully bringing his incessant tendency to hit my every nerve to a gradual halt. He lifts his hand to his tie, straightening it. The corner of his mouth quivers. Found this humorous did he? Or did he feel bad for my little display of fragility? And what was with the get up? Riza had left in a simple attire, and this clown was fumbling around in some kind of mutated tux or something. Did he ever go out looking, I don't know, normal?
Roy, now motionless, quirks a brow. Dumbly, I mirror him.
"Something on my face, Bubbles?"
Not this nonsense...
"That isn't my name, Colonel," I growl. He shrugs, walking past me in the loud 'clop' 'clop' of his shoes against kitchen tile. Everything about this guy screams attention. I had begun to think that when he first followed me, he actually wanted me to turn around and say hi. Like some girl to fawn over him.
"How you doing these days?" he asks, leaning back and lacing his fingers together like some interviewer. Riza's couch, my spot, and he always seemed to choose it. That particular spot. Where I slept. Like he purposely tried contaminating wherever I was willing to relax. The one place I freaking rest my head and escape reality. He was sitting there. The nerve!
"Bub-"
"Don't you freaking dare," I snap before he can finish. Fearing I'd regret this moment sooner or later, I approach him, taking a seat on the furniture farthest away from him, which was still uncomfortably close. Roy stifles a smirk. I continue my glaring spree, thinking if I did it long enough, he'd catch on fire or something.
Oh wait.
"When did you last eat?" he asks.
"Last night," I answer.
"My bad, I meant to ask when the last time you have food in your system was," he says with a twinge of irritation.
"Last night," I answer again, balancing with his temper.
"You look awful," Roy rudely remarks. Gritting my teeth, I bite back a curse. Dead. Dead. Riza would come home to a bloody mess.
"And you've looked better."
Roy sighs, putting chin to knuckles. His trademark pose. "You've lost color, not to mention, you've lost quite a bit of weight. Not that you had much to begin with."
A smart response had taken root in my brain until he mentioned the weight loss. Had I really lost that much? I mean, I suppose the few times I came across the bathroom mirror I saw an unusual number of bones sticking out. My veins stood out. My arms were like the branches of a scrawny tree. But it shouldn't come as a surprise. I hadn't eaten the past several days after all. More properly, I haven't kept down anything.
With a grimace, I pat my empty stomach.
I'd been so distracted by self-degrading thoughts and endless pondering of my emotions, I never really noticed just how starved I was. And weak. My bones seemed brittle. My skin tight. The colors and shades in the room a bit… off. And I'd been becoming more paranoid about sudden movements in the corners of my vision.
So maybe I wasn't in the greatest condition. And maybe I was starting to hallucinate. Big whoop. Wasn't as if anyone should give a rat's bottom.
"I'm not exactly well suited for the city life," I say with slight agitation. Roy's eyes close in thought.
"Palace life, city life, are they complete opposites?" he questions, snaking his way around into my somber tale. Defensively I don't dare to respond. He reopens his gaze, reading my every aversion and silence as my answer. There is no getting to me. I am a puzzle difficult to solve. A voice programmed to quarrel.
"Providing aid, sentencing kill orders, are they complete opposites?" I ask, responding to his grimace with a vicious snarl. "That's basically what you're asking."
Perhaps that was too far. Bringing up the Ishval event wouldn't do anything but rile up unreasonable tension. For someone like Roy, this was probably a cruel thing of me to say. I should take it back, I know I should. Just drop it already.
But I don't.
"In any case, I'd like to discuss about your heal-"
"How does it feel, Colonel? To be known as the hero of Ishval. The savior of your men. How does it feel to carry on that title?" My throat tightens and I don't seem able to stop the poison from leaking out. Roy stiffens. His complexion falls into chaos.
"How did it feel? Setting fire to their homes?" I say in a monotone, remembering the buildings aglow.
"Enough-"
"How did it feel, having your country's bullets dig into a woman's flesh? Having the children screaming for their parents that they refused to accept were dead?" I growl, hardening. Roy clenches his jaw, his nostrils flaring. The mother of an infant appears before me, bullets colliding with her, leaving only her final request to protect her child to linger as a haunting memory. The girl who called me Wind Goddess, crying in the midst of the field. Her mother long gone, yet so close. The final vehicle, swallowed by the rage of the land.
"Sto-"
"How did it feel, watching your flames tear into the innocent's skin? Burning away lives, disposing them like pests. Doing just what your masters tell you to do, like some obedient pup. Tell me, how did it feel?" I'm almost yelling at this point. My legs tremble with the flood of emotions. I can't shut up. I've lost all reason. All I can feel is anger.
"STOP!" Roy shouts in a booming command. I smile twistedly.
"I want to know. I want to know what you think, now, about going through all of that…and being recognized as a hero."
Roy drops his hands. He pops his neck. Looks away.
"We're done with this subject," he mutters.
"No we're not," I argue, stunned by his cowardice. The man was running from the truth. He was avoiding his foul doing.
"Yes," Roy says darkly, "We are."
He was fleeing from the scene. Evading what he did.
Furiously, I jolt to my feet. In three quick strides, I'm in front of him. He gazes up at me, unmoving, doing as the girl in the forest did. He was rummaging through my files. Disturbing the contents. Invading my privacy. Before I knew what was happening, a loud 'slap' thickened the atmosphere.
The pent up rage evaporates, replaced with confusion. The confusion dissolves into shameful realization.
What was I doing? Ganging up on someone who ran from his wrongs. Just. Like. Me. What was I doing?
Why didn't he…dodge?
His cheek was a dull red. The strike didn't even move his lower body an inch, but his face had without a doubt, absorbed a great deal of my hit. Raw, jagged lines slid along his skin. My nails felt oddly numb. Little beads of blood seeped through.
Cut him. I had cut him on accident.
"Wh…" I choke, withdrawing my prickling hand. "Why didn't you… move?"
He says nothing, turning to face me. The motion scares me and I fumble my way back to my seat. I needed to sit. I felt incredibly dizzy.
I slapped him. God, I slapped him because of something in the past. The man I sat across from, enemy in the Ishval war, let me hit him. I had only gone for the attack because I knew he'd be capable of blocking off such a whimsy strike. Yet he took it. He accepted it like he deserved it.
Didn't he deserve it?
I lower my head, feeling sick.
He wasn't yelling or beating me down. He hadn't laid a single finger on me, other than perhaps the cauterizing incident. Not once did he ever intentionally harm me.
Why?
Roy took a deep breath.
"When I traveled through those woods, I came across a young child."
I shot up to attention, eyes widening.
"Her eyes were a brilliant blue, like glaciers. Her body shivered as if she were cold. I could practically hear her teeth chattering from where I was."
What was he…?
"I couldn't seem to get myself to move to her right away because that little girl, chilled to the bone, was standing in the midst of one of the hottest days in Amestris."
Was this… his explanation for trusting me? Why now? Why would he…? Why would he just out of the blue… start talking about this? After what I'd said? After how I acted?
"I don't know how long I stood there, just staring. It was such a strange sight. I…I can't explain it, I found I didn't really… want to approach her… Eventually I realized I was just standing there, cowering, and feeling, I actually felt, her frigidness passing on towards me. I was, quite frankly, terrified of the girl. Me, a grown man, terrified by the possibility of catching the winter that tagged her."
He was really into his retelling. I couldn't form a coherent thought. My mind spun with bewilderment. Roy didn't seem to care. The now pink area on his face was nothing in comparison to his sudden river of words, flowing a straight current, pulling me along with it.
"There was something, strange. Something… peculiar about that girl, and I just couldn't think straight. At one side I was thinking: help the poor thing. At the other: I… I mean it's going to sound either ridiculous or downright terrible. But I was…"
He took that moment to push back his hair. Stared up at the ceiling with a simmering sadness.
"I was so afraid that if I set foot near her, I would become just like…like…"
Her. He was terrified to become like the girl, abandoned, lost, eternally cold. Possibly searching for death. Witnessing people who would cross paths then flee with an unexplainable terror. A terror of catching somberness like it were some disease. He was afraid of having to submit to the cold.
Just as I was.
And in that moment, I was swept away by his voice. I tuned to his melody. My ears resonated with each and every string of verses. Earlier outbursts had blown away. Dates other than the one he described disappeared into dust. All that mattered was his song. His symphony of truth. Nothing else.
"At the time, I thought I was being completely logical. I truly believed that child would be the death of me if I came to her aid. As for now…"
His shoulders slumped. His irises dulled. I listened closely.
"Now, I'm thinking how awful it was of me. She was only a child and yet I couldn't even bring myself to get over that foolish fear to do anything. It was as though the flame in me had just… vanished."
An extinguished flame.
I think back to when he saved me from Silia. How captivated I was by his fiery gaze. How amazed I was by the differences. One fire started by rage. Another ignited by…passion? Determination?
Either way, it was… spectacular. It would forever haunt me, those eyes, for I was supposed to fear the flames. Fire blazed as destruction in my heart. Fire would cut away my ability to fly. Roy had been the first to pass on the feeling of awe. Fascination with the deadliest element.
And ironic enough, he was also the first to trigger my continuing angst.
"Call me a creep all you want, Bubbles…"
He stopped to laugh without any cheeriness. I didn't bother snapping at his tease.
"But I couldn't seem to prevent myself from watching her. I saw her limping around, head low, eyes sunken. All the while, dreading her. But it was that dread that pushed me to keep with her. It was this itching uncertainty, a pestering curiosity that gnawed at the back of my mind. So I kept in the shadows and observed. The entire time. Only seeing her struggle. Like some twisted version of hide and seek."
Hide and seek?
An extraordinary way of distinguishing the occasion…
Could a force sincerely propel one to go after a child while also ensuring a "safe" distance?
It all insinuates…utter madness.
"Part of me hoped she would find me. Then maybe I'd have no choice but to go up to her because how could anyone consider leaving the girl, knowing she was aware of your presence?"
A memory of Naomi, sobbing, screaming my name. Pleading for me to stop. Crying for me to come back.
Asking who I was.
I swallowed, continuing to listen.
"But she never turned around. She only walked. To where, I couldn't say for sure. I hardly imagine she ever had a set place in mind. No home to run to."
At that, he passed a mindful glance at me and I knew he had spoken with Hughes. Did he support the circumstances of me staying?
No, no. No consideration. No consideration on my part. Let it go. Forgot of it.
"And so I went on watching."
Watching the girl. Not bothering to help her. Following her weak, fragile state, cowering at the idea of catching her "germs". The Colonel wanted to do something. I had to acknowledge that. But to hear him say all these things, it was awful. Perhaps if I hadn't actually met the child, I'd see to this as unforgivable. But I did run into her. I did make contact. And so, I cannot bring myself to despise Roy for what he didn't do. I cannot blame him for feelings that I too experienced.
His knuckles whitened. The memories were eating at him. He really regretted his choices. He was repulsed by the terror he submitted to. And for the tiniest of seconds;
I sympathized with him.
I appreciated his compassion. It was rare to come across legitimate courteousness. Seeing the Colonel straining over what had been done and over with… it shifted my understanding of him. Made him appear… more trustworthy.
During my nimble point of clarity, I almost didn't register the unforeseen relaxation in his frame. The easing of his features. His lips undertook a slight curl at the ends. His lids drooped in delightful remembrance.
I tilted my head curiously, entranced by this new expression. He didn't look directly at me, but he might as well have. With a hesitant swallow, he spoke clearly:
"And then you showed up."
My stomach does an unpleasant flutter and I have the irrational fear of losing ground.
"You emerged from practically the middle of nowhere, holding a pack, wearing a cloak, going slow-like. Almost at the same pace as the girl. The same pattern of shuffling your way forward. The same lost expression. The same burdensome aura. So much of you related to her. And for a moment, I thought that you were in fact, the girl. A futuristic version."
Me, a copy of the girl of white?
"And for a moment, I was terrified of you too."
Terrified of me?
It's nothing new. I've encountered so many who've yelled my name with a twinge of terror. I ran from those with racing heartbeats and trembling knees. Those who collapsed and begged at my feet to be spared, never bothering to hear my own mournful apologies, my own begging for forgiveness.
So it was only to be expected, experiencing this again. For some reason, however, hearing that I had struck fear in Roy… It distressed me. It inflicted more pain. It hurt to learn that he had been frightened by my appearance. It crushed me to learn I had repelled him.
Why?
Roy watched my tensed body. Took in my guarded face.
"I took another look at your figure. I peered as deeply as I could manage from that distance, into your eyes, and then my ideas of you being a threat, a ghostly demon come to possess me," he paused to snap his fingers. "Gone."
Unthinkingly, I wince at 'demon' and 'possess'. He's trying to joke, but it's a horrible attempt. Being associated with things like that, even jokingly, didn't go well with my self-esteem. If anything, it made me feel worse as a person.
"The first thing I noted was that you had the eyes…of a killer."
Killer. Murderer. Aerugo massacre.
"I'd recognize that look anywhere. After all, I have the exact same eyes."
I'm remembering when I saw the Colonel, unleashing his flames, his eyes flashing a glint of what I refused to identify as murderous intent. The eyes of a killer.
Did he mean to say… he and I were alike? Absurd.
"Don't deny you didn't notice."
He sounds on edge, accusing. He knew I saw his other personality. His darker shadow, looming over him wherever he went. Like a leech, it drained the innocence from his eyes.
It drained from mine too.
"It was clear to me you had killed. It was clear to me that you had killed, not once, but several times."
I cursed myself for carelessly flinching at his certainty.
"You had an emptier gaze. One could have fallen forever in those dark orbs. And because of that, I almost led myself to accept that your humanity was long gone."
Humanity… gone.
My fingers tightened into fists. My lips quivered. My eyes burned.
He was basically saying I was a monster. I'd lost the ability to love. I'd surrendered the willingness to live. I only continued existing to be devoured by my "demons".
Why did he have to cut in so deep? Badgering me with things I've already come to terms with. Reminding me of the terrors I'd unleashed. Perhaps it's reasonable. Perhaps with my horrible, dagger like thrusts of insults, the least I could take were these minor inflictions. He had every right to saying this. Didn't mean I wanted to hear it all again. It tore at my spirit. Brought me lower than I'd ever felt. Made me doubt ever being normal. Made me come to wondering, once again, if I ever was actually a human.
It…hurt…so much…
"But…"
My stomach churned. Roy intensified his stare. His eyes were alight again, and I didn't cringe away. I took in the warmth without fear of being burned. A burst of hope lived on that word.
"But for the briefest moment, I saw it."
"Saw what?" I asked, desiring to know. Mesmerized by his eyes, so alive. The eyes of a killer. So awake. So aware.
And smiling.
"A flame."
Flame.
A flame within me.
"A flame that was so dim. Almost about to die out. A flame that was struggling to stay lit and keep you going."
There was a flame still flickering inside.
"It was small, barely burning. But it was something. It was life. You had life living in you still, and it was…"
He trailed off, gazing further into me. Farther than anyone had even cared to see.
I held my breath. Leaned forward.
"It was
beautiful."
There was a startling pounding in my chest.
The way he said it wasn't flirtatious or teasing or a jest.
It was strong. Confident. Knowing. Real.
Beautiful.
"Such a beautiful fire survived within you, endangered. When I looked, really looked, I saw the weight piled upon your shoulders. That sliver of light showed me the restless emotions, the regrets you have, the fears you endured, the lives you lost. It told me that you were so close to breaking, so close to giving up. You really were on the boundaries of fading into that blizzard the girl carried."
He didn't say the lives I took. He said the lives I'd lost. As if I were a victim. As if I wasn't some psychotic killer.
Why?
"I…was afraid for something else, then."
He suddenly looked uncomfortable, his expression loosening. I waited.
"I was afraid of… losing you."
I nearly fell off the chair, clutching at my restless chest.
What?
Losing me?
How could he lose me when he never had me to begin with?
Who was he to fear losing a stranger?
Especially me?
"I knew there was something about you that, I mean… You have potential. I could see that. You had this great…This… Geez it's hard to explain. I'm not trying to come onto you or anything. But you just… had this…this…"
Roy grew frustrated with himself, pushing back his bangs. His composed self was slipping away. His shoulders going rigid with irritation.
I hated that it made me want to smile. I want to smile. But I don't.
"The flame inside you was something that I… wanted to see…at its brightest."
My cheeks went a blaze. My head pulsing a funny rhythm. My heart did horrifying jumps. What…What nonsense was he spewing?
"I didn't know you and yet I just…" He rubbed a hand along his forehead, getting worked up. "I couldn't stand the thought you turning into…her."
The girl. He was terrified I'd end up like the girl.
Why? Why was he saying such idiotic things? And why did my heart feel like a time bomb, ready to explode?
"I saw that you noticed the girl. And she noticed you. When she started walking to you and you didn't run away, I nearly… I nearly interfered. I had this weird thought that once she got close enough, you'd be… well you'd be gone."
Thump. Th-Thump. Th-Th-Thump.
Like Roy's endless drumming. The tapping of his fingers on the counter. It dwelled in my heart. Annoying. I couldn't stop it. It kept beating on its own accord.
"But of course, right when I was going to get in the middle of everything, I was frozen with that irritating, illogical fear. I stayed back and watched. I seriously believed that you were done for. I don't know what led me to believe such a bizarre thing, but I really thought you would be revert to that girl's fate."
Th-Th-Thump.
"The child spoke to you. I couldn't hear what she said from where I was. But I'm certain you answered."
Who are you?
I used to know.
"She said something else and then you took out your pack. You rummaged for something and pulled out a jacket. I was so drawn to the two of you, watching you swing over the jacket onto her trembling body, zipping her up tight. Despite the heat, you were giving her a jacket. I almost wondered if you were the child's mother."
I'm cold.
"When she rest her head on you, I was ready to leave. I didn't want to see that flame flicker out. I didn't want to witness you fade away. But before I could gather the nerve to go back to the office, I sensed…"
Roy looked intrigued. He looked dumbstruck. He shook his head as if willing away the impossible. I blinked impatiently.
"I could feel that flame flare in response."
Flare? He could feel it growing stronger? Shouldn't he have said something like it weakening? Extinguishing?
Why was I acting as if this were all true? Roy fearing to lose me? Roy seeing fire in my eyes? Sensing it? Would even a lunatic find this conversation sane?
"You were speaking to her, even though she had left. You took off your cloak, buttoned her up, and the fire just…
Exploded."
Roy stared at me incredulously. I tightened my grip on my cloth, terrified my heart would come bursting out at the rate it galloped.
"You took all the winter from the girl and turned it…into summer…"
What?
Thump. Th-Thump. Th-Thump.
What was he saying? Nothing made sense. Ridiculous. Ludicrous. Outrageous. Laughable. Nonsensical. Everything he said was… It was…
Beautiful.
"That's why when you left, I took back the cloak."
The quizzical leer had dissolved. The mature stature returned. He looked calm; composed. I, on the other hand, was far from peace.
"What do you mean?" I asked, heart racing, palms sweating. Roy gazed at me with black orbs, brimming with mystery. I suddenly realize how much I want to learn about him. How much I'd like to discover about his own past. Tell me what those pools of experience have seen.
"Your flame burned so brightly, I was afraid of the attention it would bring. I wanted to give you the cloak in order to mask it. I wanted it…all to myself."
…no words to say to that.
…no way to make sense of this
…no urges to yell, cry, or laugh
Nothing.
I don't feel anything.
This guy was…
Unreal.
"I'm sorry."
My shoulder throbs as I raise up to note his sullen gaze. He's looking at my thigh again, and I'm remembering the attire Riza gave back to me before he arrived. Washed and whenever sitting, short. It slides up to mid-thigh, and there it is. The burn. The mark he made.
I briskly cover it with my hands, but he's already seen.
"I understand you being unforgiving. I deserve that much. No, I deserve far worse," he says, never peeling his gaze away from the dark marks, itching under the strength of his apologetic stare. "There hasn't been a day where I don't remind myself of that event. I gave you a reminding scar."
He pauses, closing his eyes.
"I only have the scars in my memories." His hand traces the sealed scratches. I gulp a storm of guilt.
He opens his eyes again.
"I'm truly sorry."
My mind implodes.
Why?
Why are you doing this to me?
It's not fair.
It's not fair that you make me feel like this.
It's not fair that you make me regret those words.
It's not fair that you called me beautiful.
It's not fair that you didn't want to lose me.
It's not fair that you saved me.
It's not fair that Riza and I reunited.
It's not fair that Naomi died.
It's not fair that Papa and Mama died.
It's not fair that you don't know all of this.
It's not fair that you don't know my cruelty.
It's not fair that you note a beauty I never saw.
It's not fair that you make me actually feel like you care.
It's not fair that you confuse me.
It's not fair.
I don't deserve your words.
I don't deserve your kindness.
It's not fair for you.
It's not fair for me.
You are the worthy opponent.
We are the unlikeliest of friends.
Our questions demand to be answered.
The complications are enough to drive me insane.
Reunion. Turmoil.
Misaki. Reborn.
I must cut the ties. Sever the attachments.
I can't have a place to call home.
This visitor…must leave.
"Leave…" I whisper.
Roy looks pained. He stands. Tries to speak.
"Please… just go."
"I never wanted t-"
"Please!" I yell, tossing a devastated expression.
He looks shocked. He nods. He walks past me. Opens the door.
"I'm no hero. I never thought I was."
Shuts it gently.
At the sound of its faint 'click', I pull up my legs, wrapping them with my arms.
There is no one. I'm alone.
"I'm not a hero, either," I say to myself.
I break.