"Oh my gosh, that couldn't have gone any worse."

"What are you complaining about? I was the one who nearly had my ear torn off!"

Naomi giggled, scratching at her head sheepishly. "Right, right. I guess I never was really in any danger huh?"

"None at all," I grumbled.

We stood together on the rooftop, hands clasped on knees, trying to catch our breaths. Naomi had the biggest grin on her face while I struggled to wipe away the scene that had just unraveled. After my emotional breakdown with the note, Naomi had indeed stuck with her plans to torment her victims of the day. Himayo was easy enough to find and pelt with buckets of horse piss (long story I care to not retell…). Never quite the brightest one of the bunch, she had thrown a series of very, very powerful curse words that left us rolling down the alley, laughing our rears off. She couldn't even pursue us. No risks in our harmless prank, only a memorable moment of watching our much hated teacher drown in wonderful filth. However, once we went after our next target, Jahlil, things got a little messy. Who would have guessed Himayo would suspect him first and end up chasing after him at the same time we did?

"Did you see his face?" Naomi cackled, wincing under my unappreciative glare. Thanks to her brilliant suggestions of having me deal the ultra-punch to Jahlil's ridiculous ego, I barely managed to flee with only a scraped knee and an aching ear.

But I supposed the reaction from our victim was seemingly priceless. Never would have thought a measly downpour of syrup and feathers could drive a boy to tears.

"What a pansy," Naomi noted amusingly. She took another look at my frowning expression and punched me in the shoulder playfully. "Oh c'mon K. Admit it. It was worth it."

"Absolutely not," I answered, failing to conceal a chuckle. "Stop it. You're the worst, Nao. You'll be the death of me, I swear."

She bowed mockingly. "Thank you. Thank you very much."

I shook my head humorously. Such a troublesome child, but I did suppose getting into trouble beat sobbing in the dark pits of an alley. With a yawn and a stretch, I peered over to the marketplace below, bustling with some sort of special festivity. Naomi followed my gaze and let out a sudden exclamation.

"Oh crap on a stick!" She smacks her forehead loudly, staring at me with panic-driven eyes. "My mom is going to have a cow and sell me to the chop shop."

"Nao," I said, rubbing at my temple. Her senseless comments were riddles I wasn't willing to solve at the moment. "Intelligence. Use it."

She rolled her eyes as though I were the idiotic babbler.

"The Festival? The, as in capital 'T'. That one festival the palace puts out in honor for the Prince? Yeah, apparently it's today and I completely forgot thanks to you!"

"M-Me?" I stammered. "How the hell is this my fault?"

"The friendship code demands for me to ensure you are happy and taken care of," she fumed, wagging her finger threateningly. "So I had to deal with reviving you from the dead and thanks to you taking up my time, my mother is going to realize that I'm not at home right now with those special cakes they sell only today!"

I blankly gawked at her, tempted to throw her off the building.

"You lost me at 'I don't really care'," I said, crossing my arms impatiently. Naomi groaned, grabbed my shoulders, and began to shake me violently.

"Those cakes. They are my ticket. To surviving. Life. Get the picture?"

"Yes, yes," I mumbled, pushing her off. "I got you. Mom will be pissed. You gotta go. Now."

She nodded at my understanding, not bothering to move.

"Nao?"

"Yes?" she responded, looking down at the colorful shades fluttering in the easy breeze.

"Cake? Eternal damnation? Mom?"

Her face paled and she seemed to regain her senses. "Right! Uh…Catch you later, K!" She took off across the buildings, leaping her way down to the ground and mixing in with the hectic crowds. When she disappeared, I sighed at her tendency to go from admirable friend to worst person to go to for things involving responsibility.

Honestly.

"Raspberries! Get your fresh and juicy raspberries!"

I perked up, going motionless. Crying had been quite straining on my system. Didn't one normally eat to regenerate energy from such tiring emotions? Yes, yes, I believed so. Naomi had gone off to tend to her mother's cake addiction so it was official me time. In other words, time to haggle the friendly sellers.

"Come and get your delicious raspberries! Freshly picked!"

Well, if he was going to be so welcoming about it, I'd be sure not to disappoint the man. With a hidden smile of giddiness, I started in the direction Naomi had sprinted off, thinking of all the ways I could convince her mother to make some of that special raspberry jam or pie. Maybe I'd scour around the area for some noteworthy potatoes for Papa since he loved himself a mean potato soup. Training was hard work on the man despite his fitness. He was entitled to some sort of pleasant surprise, since obviously that "devil woman" wasn't going to do anything for the family anymore.

I grunted as I hit the floor of an alley, brushing off imaginary dust particles. With a sigh, I made my trip to the fruit stand, recalling how long it had been since I called that pathetic excuse of a parent, Mama. What, two years? Maybe longer? She'd gone completely nuts around the time I mentioned my desire to become a knight. Just what was the secret behind her abandonment?

Whatever it may be, I hated the beast. She destroyed Papa, my respect, and our family name.

"Hello my dear lady, how may I help you?"

With the beautiful scents of various fruits clouding my worries, I grinned and drooled at the sights. The man before me, a bit slow at recognition, noted my trancelike state and let out a belch of laughter.

"Oh! You must be the one they call 'the healthy thief'," he sang joyfully, not once demonstrating guardedness at the fact the words 'thief' appeared in my title. But who was I to remind him?

"Yes sir, mister," I replied sweetly, craning my head to take a good look at his supplies. "May I just say you have quite the wonderful selection!"

He waved away my praises with a flattered expression, reaching out to ruffle my hair. Normally I'd bite the hand that would attempt such harassment, but I was so terribly in love with those delicacies of pink goodliness…

"Sir, sir," another voice chimed in. Instantly I recognize it to by my partner in crime and I waited for the man to turn to address her. Once his back was turned, I quickly snatched a handful of raspberry heavenliness and innocently placed them at my back. Naomi, checking to see if I was in the clear, flirted her way into the man's heart and apologized that she couldn't linger around as long as she hoped. The man, his head practically the size of a watermelon now, blushed, turned back to me who swung back and forth cutely.

"Do you think I could maybe have a sample, mister?" I asked, tilting my head in a kind and welcoming manner. Completely frazzled, he quickly complied, looking around for a small bag and I took the opportunity to wink at Naomi who passed by, taking the load of berries off my hands so I could make for more.

"Here you go, young lady," the man said, turning back to hand me a small bundle of goods. "Now, you be sure to try these and come on back for more, you hear? A cutie like you needs a good supply of nutrition!"

Briskly, I nodded, taking the bag and shooting him a departing farewell. But before I could pull my hands completely back, he makes for my wrist and I smack him away. Replacing his kind, bubbly complexion was a fierce wrath and I knew I had screwed up somewhere.

But then again… Naomi and I never screwed up. Well, not at least at taking small portions of food. What gave me away?

"You little thief!" he yelled, chasing me for a bit as I made a mad dash. No way would I stick around to ask him how he figured it out. I wasn't that curious. "Tell your two accomplices to stay the hell away!"

…Two?

"Thanks for the treat, mister!" I screamed back at him, maneuvering my way through the thick crowds and praying Naomi would keep a hold of my treasure for a while longer. It'd suck if this were all for nothing.

Now regarding the seller's lack of skill in the world of counting… Naomi plus me equals two. But he said two of my accomplices, therefore he thought there were three of us. Now who in the devil-?

I halted in my tracks, staring at the back of a figure gliding through the sea of people. In his/her hands, swinging back and forth, was a full bag of lovely goods, much alike my own small sack. Dressed in a cloak, his or her hair was shrouded in a suspicious hood and that just screamed crook. That was without a doubt my sell-out. The rat that lost me more fruit that I could have taken.

I gritted my teeth and took pursuit, lingering back as to not cause too much alarm. Investigation time. The least he or she could do was give me his or her stash. I was owed that much for having my horrid day go even more horrendous.

Little did I know, I was about to step into a place I wouldn't know how to comprehend.

"What's your preference of color?" Riza asks.

"…Green I guess…?" I answer, wondering if this was how she performed her deductions. Stun the person with weird, pointless talk and get them to reveal something critical on accident. Was this the way of the military? And why was she asking so formally? Preference?

"Lieutenant. You couldn't have asked that in a more normal way?" Roy jumps in, quirking a brow questionably. She stares at him blankly, acting as though he weren't making any sense.

"Like how, sir?"

He sighs, crossing his arms. "Like…What's your favorite color?"

Riza blinks slowly, glancing at me sitting stiffly and in the midst of my thought process. "What's wrong with the way I asked her?"

"You…" he starts then sort of slumps over. "Never mind."

"…uh…" I mutter, glancing over at the Hughes, smiling and uncaring for the uselessness of the question. Maes passes an 'ok' symbol, gesturing at me.

"Misaki, your turn to ask Riza something."

"R-Right…" I stutter, rubbing my elbow self-consciously. "Um…Why did you want to know my favorite color?"

Riza shrugs indifferently. "Curiosity."

"…okay…" I say, watching Maes lean forward, readying for his question. Gracia twiddles with her fingers as if in deep concentration. Roy appears bored and in a foul mood, once again.

"My turn~~" Maes sings.

I sigh, feeling like a hamster in a wheel. Running but never quite getting anywhere with these people.

"Let's see," he mumbles, piecing his words together. "Do you think that Roy over there is attract-"

"No," I answer quickly, catching him in the corner of my eye, glaring. Although I had mainly answered that one in a hurry to preserve my prideful streak, I did have to admit the Colonel had some sort of attractiveness about him appearance wise. Personality wise, he was equivalent to a toad. An ugly toad. A toad so past its usual ugliness that even other toads find him horrendously hideous. A disgusting, repulsive, loner of a toad. Of an ugly toad. An ugly toad. Ugly.

Maes laughs. It's my turn again.

"Do you think the Colonel is fit for his pos-"

"No," he answers quickly. Roy isn't too terribly happy.

"Explain yourself. Right now," he demands hotly. "Just why don't you think I'm fit to-"

"Kidding, kidding," Maes insists, waving out his hands in surrender. "Settle down. Settle down."

Roy tears at the grass, muttering unintelligibly to himself as Riza sighs. Gracia, watching me with an out of place seriousness, swallows nervously and I grow cold. Weird to think she'd be the one to start the uncomfortableness. Just what did she intend to ask?

"Misaki…" she says quietly, looking almost apologetic. She folds her hands together and I await her question. "I don't mean to sound so serious out of the blue, but I'm really…umm…"

She pauses for a moment then shakes her head violently. Her lips quiver and she forces a smile, waving off her insecurity.

"What sorts of food do you like?"

I pass her a knowing look of confusion, scrunching my forehead but answering anyways.

"I love fruit. Can't get enough of it."

"We can tell," Roy mutters to which I ignore. Instead I regard Gracia with a tense curiosity.

"What did you really want to ask me?" I ask. Shyly she presses her index fingers together, chewing her lip.

"It's well... Would you mind?"

I shake my head no. Gracia takes a deep breath, eyeing Riza who remains reserved and proper. Roy goes unusually attentive.

"I was wondering," she starts, suddenly taking in my bandaged shoulder. It's then that I recall the slip of paper I had taken secretly and I grow uneasy. For what reason, I couldn't say. The message scrawled upon its surface struck a chord within me and I guess I felt as though it meant something in some unknown sense. Even so, there wasn't any reason to stress over it being discovered. So then why was I so on edge?

"Maes told me, very vaguely, about how you were found," she says, glancing at her husband for confirmation. He nods, austere.

"I see..." I answer, turning weary. So Gracia had been somewhat kept in the loop. Only thing is, I don't know how up to date her information is. "Maes, would it be alright if I'm entitled another question?"

He contemplates this, nudging his wife.

"Only if you allow my dearest another question," he offers and I find it reasonable to accept.

"What exactly have you been told?" I ask, afraid to speak ahead of myself and put her into a place no innocent should be. It pains me to think of the many ways she could react to my story, whether lightly or horrifically. I didn't want to risk scaring her off or getting her to latch onto me anymore than she already has. In fact, I didn't want her being attached to me at all. It keeps escaping my mind just how stupid this all was, doing the exact opposite of distancing and instead sitting here basically having picnic in the park. This would get me nowhere but ensure more misery and burdens to spread amongst everyone. Roy may say he's a killer, but surely he's nothing compared to the likes of me. I had to remember my background history. There is no room for forgiveness. No room for me along these wonderful city walls. None.

"I was only told that you were with Mustang outside Central City, out in the forest, and was separated by some murderer that had been going around," Gracia answers, bringing me back to my question. Maes' glasses held an eerie glint and Roy had his typical frown. I couldn't get past the whole murder ordeal. It still terrifies me how the killer came to be. Naomi wouldn't have done such horrible things if I hadn't…

"Maes and Riza went out in search for him. When they found him, running around looking for something, they found out that he'd been investigating the woods under the killing case and came across a young girl. You saved his life, then took off in pursuit of the criminal yourself? I just can't get over how reckless that was." She shakes her head in disbelief, fixated on the distorted version of the truth. Me, saving the Colonel? Was taking him hostage, ruining his hands only to heal them, and taking off without him alone in the forest considered saving? Quite an interesting way to put it.

I stare at Roy, trying to read his tense expression, impossible to crack and difficult to interpret. Such a grumpy, sour look about him. The look of a dedicated official. He returns my gaze with a meager tug at his firm line.

"So that's how you got your wound, fighting with this person. This horrible person who, oh Misaki, I'm so sorry. I should have just kept quiet. Forget of my question, please."

By taking one look at my loosening expression, she panicked, jumping to conclusions and trying to fix what she thought she had damaged. Little did she know how broken I already was to begin with.

"No, no," I say, wanting desperately to reach out and calm her, but not daring to infect her with my dirty hands. My bloodstained palms. "It's fine. I understand why you'd be curious. I'd be asking myself the same things. Please ask away."

Her eyes ask one final time if I'm certain before she dives in.

"Where are you from?" she pries. My heart skips a beat and I find myself once again looking at the Colonel observing my reaction. Gracia is suddenly uncomfortable and I rub the back of my neck, contemplating my choice of words. "You don't have to answer. It's intrusive on my part."

I smile kindly and wave her fears off. "It's not intrusive," I assure, grabbing at my ankles and squeezing. "I would assume you've figured out that I'm not exactly from around these parts, hmm?"

Sheepishly she returns the smile. "Based on the reaction in the train, I would have to say so."

Of course she wouldn't have pointed this out earlier. How polite. The least I could do was tell her where I was from, right? Maes, Riza, and the Colonel already knew, so why not?

I take a deep intake of oxygen, let it flow through my system. This is alright, this is okay, I can tell her. I can trust her too.

Too?

Well, I suppose I did trust Riza, ever since the incident in Ishval, I think. But Maes and Roy, especially Roy? When was the last time I had ever entrusted myself in the cares of strangers? Never? Had I ever been lenient on first impressions? I couldn't even remember.

Fujiin feels like so long ago. What was she/I like?

"Remember those couple of times when you said my speech put me under the impression of royalty?" I ask, urging her to reminisce to the train and her home. She takes a moment to make a thoughtful face, nodding once she obtained the memory. "Well, in a way, you were right."

"What do you mean?" she prods, easing past her self-limitations, and fully expanding into the mysteries of my history. Maes passes a supportive smile and I get the sense he's saying I don't have to go any further if I couldn't handle it. A kind thing for him to hint, but surely I could get past something minor like my place of birth. Gracia wouldn't hate me for being what was considered the enemy of her country. Maes and Roy certainly didn't mind. Riza was only caught off guard when we first met and now she was tending to my wounds. Differences were set aside. Our leaders may have quarreled, but we weren't being forced to oblige to their opinions now.

"I'm not from Amestris," I say. "I'm of Aerugonian blood." My hands tremble and I search for the strength to go on. "I was a royal knight of Prince Claudio, commander of his men, and one of the few responsible for serving in the Ishval war."

Roy flinches, a small, almost unnoticeable movement, but I catch it. Gracia's eyes go wide. Why I had to have mentioned the Ishval war, I didn't know. It sort of just fell out with the rest of my chatter.

"Ishval…war…?" Gracia mouths, turning to face her husband, one of the participants. "She was your…our…enemy?"

Perhaps this would change the way she saw me.

"She saved my life."

Gracia and I look at Riza, trailing her fingers along the grassy floor, staring firmly ahead. Roy appears genuinely interested and his eyes narrow upon the Lieutenant who was defending me.

"Yes, you two did put out the impression that you both were already acquainted some years back," Roy interjects. Riza focuses on my expression, trekking carefully.

"We met on the battlefield, when it was quiet and we were nearing the end…"

She goes off, retelling the story of our first encounter, making sure to omit certain things from our discussion like the symbol on her back (which I suddenly recall and can't seem to stop thinking about) and Ritzu. Grateful for her discreet dedication to me, I regain a boost of confidence and watch for Gracia's reaction. She seems calm enough and I feel somewhat content to have that out of the way. She's certainly blinking a lot, though.

"I-I had no idea," she whispers after some time, breaking away her gaze. Maes settles closer to her, drawing her in and I wonder if Gracia sees me not as Misaki anymore, but one of the hired soldiers required to fight any enemy on sight, including her dearest husband. Now that I think about it, if I had run into him, would he have killed me on sight like Riza was trained to do? She hesitated and because of that, I'm still alive today, but Maes, I had a feeling, was more of a merciless follower. The same could be said for Roy. If it had been any other person besides Riza, there might have been bloodshed. Crazy how that fact stands and yet here we are a couple years later, playing tag and asking questions that we're actually bothering to answer.

"But, hold on a second!" Gracia snaps to face me, her eyes shivering with bewilderment. "But I was told that Aerugo…" She looks at Maes and he in turn stares at his shoes. I nod slowly, sadly. My stomach does a terrible twist. Gracia goes limp, hanging her head distressingly. Her eyes lower and her lips tremor. "How awful…"

Awful indeed.

She shudders, crossing her arms as though she were cold. I'm overwhelmed by the memory of the girl in white and like a virus, I too shiver.

"So you're a survivor," she says, frowning at the sound of it, the overall truth of it. "Oh Misaki, I'm so sorry." Without warning, I'm engulfed in her arms and filled with the homely scent of her. Astonished by her response, I sit with my arms limber, staring at Maes who seemed completely unfazed. Of course he wouldn't. This was probably the way Gracia always was, but to think she'd be doing this to me of all people.

But…why hug me? Why hug the one responsible?

"I'm so, so sorry I asked. What you went through, it's amazing how strong you are."

Strong…Yes, strong enough to realize what I'd done and run from it.

"If there's anything I can do for you, do not hesitate to let me know. Please. No one should have to go through something so terrible. Oh, Misaki…"

Terrible… Terrible enough to drive people to murdering for pleasure or tear apart families.

"The one responsible for those mass murders, we'll make sure it you never have to see him again. This can be your home. Sweetie, I'm…" She can't even finish. She's gone off into compulsive sobs and her husband came soaring in, pulling her away to comfort her.

I only sit and shakily blink at the empty space before me, once filled with her soothing presence.

'This can be your home.'

'one responsible for those mass murders…'

'never have to see him again'

Why is she saying such ridiculous things? Offering a home, again. Speaking as though I'm the one who needs protecting. Gracia, I'm the mass murderer. I'm the one responsible for so many lives lost. I'm to blame. You can't just say such wonderful words and expect me to accept them, not the way I am. Why would you go out of your way to do that? Why? Don't…Don't look at me like that. So charitably. It hurts.

"You…" my throat rasps to its own rhythm. I'm on full autopilot and clueless as to where I'm going. "You're being…"

Gods, what was I even saying? Nothing coming out of my mouth made an ounce of sense. I'm like a broken record, stuck on the needle, repeating over and over.

I swallow, blink a couple of times to ease the stinging pain, and demonstrate the flimsiest smile in history.

"You're too kind, Gracia," I say, reaching out to squeeze her hand. The gesture is unnatural for me and it's sort of awkward and clumsy, but she doesn't complain. Instead she squeezes back and tackles me for another embrace to which I very reluctantly return.

"Please consider it," she whispers, leaving me to understand her meaning. I'm not sure I could ever accept, but I nod anyways. When we eventually draw away from each other, she composes herself and goes back to cheery spirits, leaving me to throw away my bitter, self-degrading thoughts and tend to our little game.

"So, apparently you're guaranteed another question," I say, eyeing Maes who also went to his chipper self. Gracia looks surprised, scrunching her face in uncertainty.

"Really? Um…Okay. Well," she says, trailing off and humming to herself. Once she's gotten a question in mind, her eyes light up and she beams. "What is your preference in men?"

All the seriousness in the room evaporates and leaves me with the temptation to drive my head into a wall. What…sort of question…

"Ah…well, umm…I'm not…er…"

Roy, slipping from his cool stature, snorts and I toss him an unappreciative glare.

"Yes, yes," he coos, holding his chin up on his palm in mock fascination. "Do tell."

"The question has nothing to do with you, mule," I snap, turning my back on him and trying desperately to keep my head on straight. Preference in men? Was she being serious? How'd she manage to leap from palace life to preference in men?

"Why would you want to know that?" I ask Gracia, chuckling nervously. She shyly covers her mouth, laughing.

"Riza asked for your preferred color so I figured I'd be allowed to ask you something similar," she says innocently.

"Asking for my ideal dream guy is like asking for my favorite color?" I ask, dumbfounded. Certainly there was something wrong there. One was a boring conversational approach, the other... To be blunt, it felt a little intrusive.

"Is that another question on your part?" Maes asks teasingly.

"No," I answer, catching onto his pattern of tricks. "But I believe what you just said qualifies as one."

I can't believe I pulled a Maes.

He laughs, intertwining his fingers with Gracia. The two put their weight against one another, supporting.

"So?" Gracia prods.

"Absolutely not. I am not going to answer that."

"You have to. You asked her two questions, well technically three, so therefore you're in a tight spot," Maes says in a cheesy, booming voice of authority. My lips fade into a firm line.

"C'mon. Simply describe yours truly and be done with it."

Fuming, I ignore Roy's comment. Being a narcissistic man did nothing for me. I held no room in my credentials for an egoistic, bloated mule. He may drive the ladies insane with his boyishly cute looks, but really, knowing him, he's nothing but slop.

"I get the feeling you're thinking some unladylike thoughts about me," Roy says. Indeed I was, but probably not in the perverted sense he was suggesting.

A pair of eyes drive through me and I find they belong to Riza. She looks worried, sending a hoard of possible reasons. Did she think I was still in a funk from the earlier topic? Worried about my shoulder, was it ripped?

"I think she'd be the type to be escorted by the sweet, charming ones. Perhaps swept off her feet?"

"No, no. I picture the strong, devishly handsome and loyal type."

"Reserved, book nerd?"

"Bold party planner?"

The Hughes continue to babble on about irrevelant matters, interpreting the "perfect" man for me. Riza's set expression, however, distracts me from the considerably insulting conversation. She seems so focused on my responses that it's unnerving. What was eating at her?

Oh.

She knows about Ritzu.

I'd almost forgotten.

"Misaki doesn't seem the type to like having her guy show up at the door with flowers," says Maes.

"I don't know, maybe she'd prefer a romantic stroll beneath the full moon?" replies Gracia.

She knew about Ritzu when he was actually alive. What is she thinking now? Is she connecting the dots, realizing I was one of the very few survivors, alone?

"Honey, she's barely had time to settle in. You can't just shove the first guy that comes to mind on her." Gracia.

"What? They've already been acquainted and seem to have passionate conversations. If not now, later on they should at least try." Maes.

"Don't make plans involving me without my consent!" Roy.

Gracia's question. Was Ritzu my example of a decent guy to be with? I did fall in love with him, and I suppose we had been like the Hughes at one point, so wouldn't that make him my perfect half? Wouldn't it had? I have to remind myself he isn't here anymore. The possible half of me is long gone and I'm left to be incomplete. It's such a gloomy thought. I shouldn't think such things.

"It's getting late."

Riza stands up, approaching me and extending her hand. Curiously, I look up at her. She gives me a hard stare and I have a feeling she's doing this for my benefit.

"It's barely past five and I've still got my question, Lieutenant."

She hardly passes a glance to the Colonel, pulling me up as I reached out for her. The Hughes make sure to get up as well, Roy remaining on the ground and leering at me, expecting an answer. I merely shrug, perfectly alright with the plan, although a part of me wishes to remain with the group for a while longer.

"It wasn't as if I was actually going to answer for you anyways," I make sure to let the Colonel know before passing the Hughes a gracious smile and humble bow. Gracia smiles, remembering of my background and place. It was force of habit for me to do such a thing. For the first time, I felt slightly embarrassed doing it. Maes, ever the humorous one, copies my odd display of gratitude and I feel a little more relaxed. Roy, determined bugger he was, goes for my attention once more.

"Answer my question."

I spin to face him, glowering. "I don't appreciate your tone, Colonel."

"Please."

Now there was a shock. I would have never expected the man to have manners and sound so serious about it. But there was something about the way he didn't have his usual playful demeanor or flaming attitude, something that drew me to listening to his next few words.

"Let it be quick and reasonable," I say to my own surprise. He nods then stands, coming close, then closer and I went stiff as a statue. "What-"

Without warning, his hand snatches my wrist and he pulls me away from the others, too stunned to do anything but watch as we made our way out and into the dark, claustrophobic nightmare of an entrance and back out into the civilization.

"H-Hey!" I yell, trying to pull with the little strength I had. "What the hell are you doing?!"

He doesn't say anything as we sprint onward for a while, leaving me to wonder if this was some sort of psychotic kidnapping. When he finally settles for a secluded alley, tending to the comfort level at a minimum, he lets me go and pockets his hands as I rub at the place he had gripped so tightly. Whatever his question was, it was obvious he wanted it private, but was it really necessary to yank me out without a heads up?

"What is your deal? You can't just-"

"Let's pretend you don't hate me."

Stunned, I quirk a brow questionably. "Excuse me?"

Roy sighs, pushing back his hair. "I said for now, can we just pretend that we get along?"

I blink at him, momentarily thrown off by his calm, mature behavior. "Why?" I ask, feeling silly for speaking it aloud. Roy steps forward and I take one back. "What's going on with you?"

"Just listen to me okay?" he pleads. I'm not entirely sure what is going on through his brain right now, but it's freaking me out. The way he's staring at me as if I were the most fragile thing, it's uncomfortable. Why the sudden interest to become temporary buddies?

"…what do you want?"

He doesn't say anything for a while, glancing around as though we were being followed. His paranoia spreads onto me and I start to feel twitchy, itching to jump and bolt out of this empty, isolated alley…What on earth did he intend to do?

"Come and stay at my place."

…What? All this running around just to give one of his perverted requests? Seriously? That's it? What was with this guy? 'You're an idiot' is all I can manage to say. Frustrated, he exhales loudly, muttering to himself.

"Look, I know it sounds insane, but there's just- I can't explain it, okay? I'm asking you to come and stay the night at my place for a few days at least-"

"You can just stop right there," I hiss, already beginning to turn back towards the Hughes and Riza. "Keep your sick fantasies to yourself. I don't want anything to do with them."

"No," Roy says, almost frantic. "Listen. I know it may seem like I'm some creep trying to get you to come home with me-"

"Damn right, you do," I snarl, repulsed. To think I believed this would go somewhere meaningful, but nope. Just another perverted let down.

"I'll ask you one final time-"

"Don't bother."

Dramatically, he throws his hands up into the air in an exasperated gesture, groaning with irritation.

"Fine. See if I care. If you're just going to be difficult-"

"Me? Difficult? Excuse me for not agreeing to your pleasurable invite, Colonel." I make a rude gesture and take off, spinning around to find he wasn't pursuing me. Thank heavens. However his voice makes sure to reach and remind me of his presence.

"Never let your guard down, Bubbles!"

Gritting my teeth, I make sure to correct him before vowing to be more mindful of his schedule to avoid him as much as possible.