Nnnnnb b nb nnnnnnnnnnbbbb bbnnnnnnnn

And that's the sound my forehead against my keyboard makes, children!

Those following my writing Tumblr are aware I've been on Hiatus (And for those not following, Y U NO FOLLOW?) Life was getting a little stressful what with other hobbies, higher priorities, and a complicated social life. Writing had gone from highest priority to the bottom of the list and I had to put it aside for a while. I always tell myself to write because I enjoy it - because I want to - but for a while there, I was forgetting that. I needed to align my focus and… Recharge myself, I guess.

Of course, with my luck, I get rope burn on my finger just as I started getting back into my writing and was physically unable to type. I had to take a healing break and it's still healing now - that's not helping this come out any sooner.

Oh, and by the way: Thriving Ivory is amazing motivation for me to write. Seriously, I wrote about seventy percent of this with Some Kind of Home playing on an infinite loop.

The First of the Lovely Daaaarlings!

CloudEnvyKunoichi: Thank you! It is sad to see it end, having been with it for four years now. But there's still more of Riley, hah! Oh, and you stole the sequel's review virginity. You should be proud.

Haganeochibi: From the very beginning, I adored the idea of Maes being as understanding as he is in the story, so I'm glad someone mentioned that. xD It's definitely an angsty start and I'll be honest with you, this one is only a tiny bit lighter, if even that. But no worries! I plan on balancing the genres and emotions of the story to the best of my abilities. I want this to have the same kind of humor as the first story, but it's going to have a darker side to it as well due to all that's happened. Thank you!

Hauarie: Doesn't it, though? It felt odd writing just about Ed. But as far as the confusion goes, I strongly suggest you watch Conqueror of Shamballa if you haven't yet – that will clear up a lot of confusion. As far as a quick explanation goes; when Ed died, he went over to the gate. The gate has 'clones' or 'doubles' of every person. When Ed died, his clone died and allowed him to cross over. Now, Ed remembered his past life, but that's not entirely common. For instance, Maes died and crossed over, but he doesn't remember his past life. And Al doesn't remember her because it's not the same Al, it's his clone! It's confusing to explain in a summary, but that's the jist of it.

Mizunou: Haha, emo Ed. Yes! Another person who mentions Maes' involvement, that makes me happy. x3 Unfortunately enough, I will be following the movie storyline, and Rose will be involved later on. I didn't care for her much, but we'll see how it goes.

Mercedes Wolfcry: Thank you! I'm glad you liked it!

Hyourin-kusabana: And I'm so thankful for that- asdhjkl… Glad you like it! I hope the rest of the story is as entertaining.

AnimeVamp1997: OF COURSE I DID, YOU PEOPLE SHOULD KNOW ME WELL ENOUGH BY NOW. Haha, yes, my version of Ed is a bit of a romantic at heart, even if he is a nervous wreck about it. xD This wasn't soon, but it was twice as long, so I hope that helps!

BVBArmy: Thank you! I appreciate it! 8D

Mushra the enterran: Two days? Oh my. Lawl, if I can make my readers look foolish in front of their loves ones, I know I'm doing my job. Thank you! Write what you love because you love it – stick to that and you'll have whatever drive it may take. And for the chibi thing, I'm not entirely sure. The OVA was very entertaining, but it's something I honestly haven't considered yet!

IceFire Dragon Alchemist73: Oh don't worry, he's far too stubborn to give up on anything. xD

katsekala: Indeed he is! Riley would have given him hell for it, too.

Overlord Prince: Sooner than he thinks, that's for sure. Thank you for reading!

Rockerchic221: Oh God, I love it. I love making people cry. I'm not sure why I do, I just do. Thank you so much. .w. Ohoho, I'm a Writing Goddess now! (Flips Collar.)

Gummy'Fish'Lover: Thank you! I'm feeling the same sort of mixed emotions, and I'm sure I'll just get worse when this sequel comes to an end.

Tabzthedemon: Lawl, I love doing that. So much so, I don't even realize it anymore. It just happens. (Oh, and thank you for the review on the first story! It was amazing- asdfghjkl.)

Want to Be a Lovely Daaaarling? Review!

Conqueror of Shamballa is not mine. Well, I own a DVD copy, but that's about all I can claim. Why is it everyone automatically thinks I pirated the movie when I tell them I have it on DVD? I bought it off Amazon, gaiz. Now where was I? Oh yeah. Riley, Hannah and the Mauler Dojo all belong to me in their entirety and you may not use them unless I give you written and signed consent. Yes, I'm going all legal on you in this disclaimer.

Oh, and Arcane Vaudeville.

Just wanted to say it.

Chapter Two:
It Strikes Like a Bat.

"Nothing I could give would have been worth that…"

"Riley."

I blinked, the voice pulling me back to reality, and I turned to face the person who called me.

The bright light behind him both shadowed and illuminated Daisuke. He maintained a growing height, while his features narrowed over the past two years. His skin had tanned lightly and his black hair had reached his shoulders. He kept it in a low ponytail, unconcerned with shortening it. He looked eerily similar to my father in the Dojo's garments. I hated it, but I couldn't deny that I grew accustomed to seeing him on a daily basis.

With a small sigh, I ran a hand through my hair as I looked back toward the desk I'd been staring at. It was supposed to be the desk of the Rebellion's head, but Gregory had been using it until I was to take over. Gregory decided that time was near, but I wasn't so sure. Whether it was self-doubt or lack of care, I didn't know. "What is it?" I finally asked, glancing over the paperwork spread atop the desk. Paperwork I was in charge of.

Daisuke stepped toward in slow strides, worry etched into his features. It was an expression he wore often. "Your guest is here… He's waiting in the common room," He replied once he reached me.

I nodded. "Good. I'm ready for this meeting to be over," I muttered under my breath as I grabbed a folder from the desk. It was almost empty, save for two pages. Both were scribbled onto, but I didn't care about the appearance. The results were the only thing that was important to them, so that was my only priority.

The half-assed attitude would have sickened me two years ago, and this bitter fact didn't lose itself on me. I turned to leave the office, but stopped when Daisuke placed a hand on my arm. He said nothing at first, and I looked up to figure out his intentions. He frowned down at me, with both thin lips and green eyes. "How are you feeling?"

Ah. So that's what it was about.

"Same as when you asked me yesterday and the day before and the day before that, Daisuke," I answered, frowning as well, "Why do you keep asking me that?"

There was silence as he lifted his head back to its regular position, furrowed brows ceasing. His hand fell off my arm as he gave a subtle shake of his head. "I… Nothing, no reason. Just… Just making sure," He stuttered out, stepping away from me.

"…" Nodding, I looked away from him. Stepping around Daisuke, I left the office without anymore words shared between us.

My footsteps were quiet along the porch that lined the dojo, which was cooled under the roof's shade. A light breeze blew through, casting a nice feel along my tanning skin and through my hair. I wasn't sure when it was last cut, but the ends brushed against my chest and upper back. Bangs were no longer that – now to my chin. All of us at the dojo seemed to 'let ourselves go,' as others would put it.

"Ow, you stepped on my foot!"

"Maybe if you didn't have such gargantuan feet, you wouldn't have this problem."

"Well excuse me for causing such trouble!" I sighed upon hearing Louis' monotone voice and Farin's loud one in the yard. Always starting an argument with each other. They were at each other's throats the second they showed up at the dojo, Louis beaten and bruised and Farin laughing at the sight of him. Farin's intense glare didn't phase anyone and for a moment there, I could see Ed and I in the two of them.

Standing in front of the common room, I placed a hand on the edge of the door and pushed it open. Right away, I spotted a familiar man standing by the window, looking out it. I stepped inside and made my way toward him, joining him by the window. A group of students stood in the yard, sparring with one another. Gregory watched them from the corner as Jacob instructed them. Both men had changed over time. Gregory was thinner, his cheeks more sunken in and his hair graying. His deep-set eyes were just as intense as always, though. That was what scared the students. Jacob had kept to his average height, if only a few inches taller, and somehow stayed paler than the rest of us. He was still bald, though more muscle lined his arms. An experienced look was in his eye. I was never sure where it came from, but it was there.

"Your students seem to be learning quickly."

I glanced to the man from the corner of my eye, and nodded. He watched out the window with a mug of tea in one of his hands. The top half of his uniform was hidden by a tan, zipped up jacket. Regardless, I knew the uniform all too well. Light from the sun shone through, illuminating the room we were in. With a small nod in acknowledgment to his words, I held the folder up for him to take. "They're more susceptible to lessons when there's no stress of war," I commented, "I suppose you can thank the Furher for that."

He rubbed the back of his neck with a nod. Two years, and he was still on edge about the military's past. I was, too, though. Maybe that was why I came back to the dojo instead of staying. "His first priority has been to fix Bradley's mess," He replied as he opened the folder. "It's not easy. How's the dojo been going?"

Looking back out the window, I sighed. "As good as it's going to go. Gregory thinks it's time I take over…"

"Maybe it is," He replied with a shrug, "You're more capable than you think."

I sighed once more as he patted me on the shoulder. With one last look in my direction, he turned and walked toward the door. Just before he reached it, I spoke. "Jean." I heard his footsteps stop, but I didn't look back at him. "How is he?"

There was a small pause of silence, before he asked, "What?"

Turning, I looked over my shoulder to the blond officer. "I know you've seen him recently, Jean," I shook my head, "How is he?"

We looked at one another for a while. He realized what I meant quickly and sighed. It was something I asked every visit. And every visit, we argued over it until he gave in. This time, I could see him give up before it started. He knew he'd lose, so he decided not to continue any longer. With a long sigh, his shoulders dropped. "He's the same as the last time you asked. Refuses to use alchemy or come back to headquarters." Looking away, he slipped his hands in his pockets as he frowned. "He's not doing so good, Riley."

I turned my gaze back to the window, processing the new information. "He asks about you too, you know." I looked up to him, brows furrowing, and he nodded to me. There was a small frown on his face as he turned back to the door. "I think the answer he gets is almost as hard on him as the cold," He said before leaving.

"Way to make me feel guilty, Havoc," I thought to myself with a scowl. I could hear the door shut behind him as he left. So, I left as well. Heading across the porch, I made my way to the back of the dojo.

I didn't know how long it had been since I last saw Roy Mustang. I didn't even remember if I saw him after Ed died. A part of me wished I'd seen him again. A part of me wished I visited him after I heard he was home and bed-bound after killing Bradley. Pride. I didn't visit anyone, though. Not after what happened – I left back to Dublith immediately and didn't look back. A coward's move, maybe, but I didn't care.

"I take it there were no problems?"

Glancing over, I saw Gregory at my side, hands clasped behind his back. "None," I replied as I looked to the yard. From that point, I could see half of the arena in the back. A tornado came through a month before, and the arena required some repairs. It was why students were sparring in the front of the dojo, not the back.

From beside me, I spotted Gregory nod. "Good," He began, "It's best things run smoothly as possible while we transition you into my place." Falling quiet, I frowned as I turned away, opening the door beside me. His brows furrowed down at me in minor concern. "Riley?"

"I didn't want this transition, anyway," I muttered before walking in. The room was small, with a desk in the corner, a dresser beside it and a bed in the opposite corner. It was all I needed. Once inside, I shut the door behind me and plopped myself onto the desk chair, resting my head on my crossed arms. From behind me, I heard the door open and close. Gregory gave a long, exhausted sigh as he asked, "Is there something wrong, Riley?"

Scowling, I moved upward and looked to him from over my shoulder. I was tired, and I was sick of everyone thinking I was so eager to take over. It was, quite frankly, the last thing I wanted. All those people, looking to me? No. "Weren't you supposed to kick the bucket by now, old man?" I asked, leaning back in my chair to show the minor irritation on my face.

With the shake of his head, Gregory walked around the room, "I'm not going anywhere until I know you can take care of this place." He picked up a page from my desk, checking it over. "Paperwork is not the only skill required to run a dojo."

I snatched the paper out of his hands as I frowned up at him, "I'm aware of that." I shoved what papers were there into the drawer of my desk. "They wouldn't even want me running the place anyway," I muttered under my breath.

Gregory looked down at me. "What was that?" He asked, his face and tone blank.

Sighing, I rested my arms on the desk as I looked down at my hands. "My parents wouldn't want me running the Rebellion," I replied louder, before scowling, "Tch, it's not even a Rebellion anymore, it's a glorified dojo."

"Stop while you're ahead, Riley," Was his quick response.

I rolled my eyes as I leaned back to glare up at him. "Well that's rich, coming from you!" I shook my head as I stood from the chair, "You're the last of the generation, Gregory. You should have stopped while you were ahead, now you're just trying to salvage a dead pride."

Gregory stepped toward me, oddly quiet. "There's a difference between being stuck in the past and trying to move on from it. You may not be familiar with that – moping about the dojo and losing what little focus you had." He glared, pointing down at me. "The boy is dead, Riley, he isn't coming back. The same way your parents and the honor of the Rebellion won't be coming back. At least I'm trying to rebuild instead of wallowing in self-destruction." I said nothing, looking away as he walked back toward the door. "I'll watch over the dojo for today. In the meantime, you need to finally get your head together."

He left, slamming the door behind him, and I was left to my solace.

A loud thud and crash sounded outside my door, followed by Gregory yelling, "Damn it, how many times do I have to tell you not to run around this place? You've broken enough this month!" I fell onto my bed, frowning at the wall. As much as I hated to admit it, Gregory was completely in the right. About me, not the running thing. Well, he was right about that too, but that wasn't the point.

He was though– Ed was gone. He wasn't coming back and no amount of depression would change it. Nothing would. I thought returning to a constant position in the military would lift my mood, but I knew I couldn't, not at that moment. The dojo was looking to me since Gregory would be stepping down. I couldn't leave, no matter how much I desperately wanted to. It seemed like every day, my mood was more and more because of my place at the dojo, and less because of Ed. Maybe I had moved on, moved on as much as I could anyway, and I didn't realize it. Maybe I just needed to get away. I remembered the words Jacob had said to me two years ago - "You wanted out of here more than anything." Maybe he was still right.

I rubbed the back of my neck in the same exhaustion Gregory displayed with me – this was not responsibility I wanted to take on.

. . .

The sun was beginning to come to a set, though it was even hotter than the afternoon that just passed them by. Students practiced in the cooled dojo and, even so, discarded the top of their white Gi for lighter shirts, or none at all. It was a relatively quiet day for the Rebellion, with Gregory in his office, and Jacob and Daisuke training. Shiori sat at the sidelines, fixing a rice paper door she'd busted through earlier that day. She was probably the one that changed the most out of us all – having gone through a growth spurt when she hit eleven years of age. She was twelve now; and while her skin stayed an olive tone, her hair, now cut to a little above her chin, was darkening. Mostly in her mother's part, Gregory mentioned.

Everything was going as usual, when I slid the door open with more force than necessary. Shiori let out a yelp, pulling her hand back just in time to miss the oncoming assault, and she glared up at me. The rest of the students turned their attention to me as well, but I maintained my posture as much I could. "I have some news, everyone," I said with a simple tone.

"What's going on?" Jacob asked, crossing his arms as he looked toward me. He rose a brow, and I could almost see a glimmer of hope in his eyes. About what, I wasn't aware.

Clearing my throat, I placed my hands behind my back. "I'm leaving the dojo for a while," I began, ignoring the small sounds of surprise from some of them, "I'll be visiting old friends and clearing my head for the responsibilities that will be waiting for me here." There was a quick moment of silence before I exclaimed, "Shiori!"

Out of the side of my eye, I caught the girl jumping at my voice before standing straight. "Yes!" She yelped out in response, her voice meek.

"You're coming with me," I added in a matter-of-fact tone, "You need the experience of the outside world or you'll shrivel up and die a hermit like your uncle."

When I heard the clearing of a throat behind me, I ignored it as I continued keeping my eyes on the students. "Shrivel up and die, will I?" Gregory muttered out, frowning down at me. I didn't have to look back to know he was glaring - I could feel it.

From the back of the room, I could see Daisuke step forward, the always worried look still in his eye. "Maybe… I should come with you," He commented, his voice slow and unsure of the situation. I looked to him, narrowing my eyes with minor suspicion. He had been acting like this for a while now, and I wasn't sure what caused it. I wasn't frail, and I didn't appreciate being treated like it.

Shaking my head, I replied with, "You need to stay here for the dojo."

"The dojo doesn't need two medics," Daisuke protested, "There's not a war going on. Moa can take of everyone here herself. Someone needs to be there for you and Shiori!" While some students had left upon feeling the tension rising, others stayed where they were, their curiosity overwhelming. Not only was Daisuke displaying his backbone, it was to a girl. The whole 'About to Lead the Rebellion' could have also been cause for surprise, but my money was on the girl thing.

I opened my mouth to respond, but fell quiet when my head began to pound. The room started spinning, and I grimaced, holding the side of my head. Daisuke frowned, stepping forward once more. "What is it, what's wrong?" He questioned, watching my moves closely.

Once more, I wanted to speak, but another rush of dizziness overcame me before I couldn't take it any longer. Jacob caught onto this, jumping away from the wall to make it over to me in time. "Riley!" My eyes closed as I felt myself falling toward the ground. Gregory and Jacob catching me were the last things I remembered.

Opening my eyes, I found myself in a small bed. It was uncomfortable, at best, but it felt familiar in an odd way. Like I had been in it before. The ceiling above me was plain, or so I guessed. I could barely see through the blackness of the room. Pushing myself to a sitting position, I tried to remember what happened. Where I was, how I got there - it was all lost on me. But I couldn't shake the familiarity, and that calmed me. In some weird way, it calmed me. Looking around, I stepped onto the cold wood floor and came to a stand before guiding myself around the room. My hands nudged against picture frames on the wall, but I could see none of them. Finally, my hand reached a round metallic. A knob, perhaps?

Twisting it, I pushed it to an open and was greeted with a dark gray hall. I placed my hand on the edges of the doorway and stepped out, looking back and forth to catch any details. Even if it was a little lighter, it was still hard to make out. I reached out my arms and my hands were met with the wall opposite me, and another picture frame. Leaning toward it, I tried to squint and make out the photo, but to no avail. I stepped back with a defeated sigh.

"You've been helping us more than anyone."

"But what if I wasn't?"

My eyes widened as I suddenly realized where I was. It couldn't be… Looking around, I knew I had to continue through the house to find my answer. I turned to my left and began walking, guiding myself along at a slow, cautious pace. Just as I expected, stairs weren't far away.

Once my feet hit the bottom, I could see the area around me as a light gray. I could just barely make out furniture and photos, but all of the people in them were blurred. Had I really forgotten their faces so easily? With a scowl, I headed straight for the door. I wanted out.

Swinging the door open, I felt wind blow through my hair as white light almost blinded me. I raised my hand over my eyes and stepped out onto the porch, surrounding myself in nothing but white. No details, no sounds, no smells. Nothing but white. The feeling of stairs came in contact with my feet and I walked down them. At the bottom, I felt a rocky path. I looked down and, suddenly, the light was gone. In place of it, was the brown and green path. Looking back up, probably too fast due to the sharp pain in my neck, I could see the blue sky and the green trees and the colors of the town in the distance.

Resembool. I was in Resembool.

I walked forward with caution, a small spark igniting in the pit of my stomach. It looked just as it did last time I was there, and I loved it. "Hey, where are we?" The first sound I heard while in this place made me jump, and I spun around on the heels of my feet. My eyes widened at the sight before me.

In front of the large yellow house I remembered as the Rockbell residence, was Edward Elric.

Slowly but surely, I began to regain consciousness. I grimaced, my eyes too heavy to open and my head throbbing too much to lift. The bed I was in was soft and I knew I was back in my dojo bedroom. What time it was, I could only guess by the crickets chirping outside. I wanted to move, feeling trapped enough as I remembered the dream I'd just had. It was too… Real.

I could hear Daisuke's voice break what silence was hanging in the air, his voice muffled by my bedroom door. "Will she be alright?"

At first, I thought it was Moa he was speaking with. It made sense. But instead, I heard Gregory's voice. "She's fine. She just needs some rest," Was his gruff response.

"Don't give me that!" Daisuke yelled, and I would have jumped had I any energy to. "You said she was fine when Ed died, too. She hasn't moved on, she's a total wreck! And now she's fainting? Something is wrong!" I almost scowled at that. Good to know the dojo thought I was so pathetic when I was trying to take over.

There were more footsteps and I could tell by the heaviness that it was Gregory. "You have a family waiting for you back home, boy. She's lost the last of hers. Don't speak of what you don't understand," He growled out, his voice followed by more footsteps. I felt flattered at the defense, but I knew it wasn't needed. I was a wreck, and Daisuke had every right to say it.

"Then don't tell me she's fine when she clearly isn't," Daisuke snapped before storming away. Gregory continued to stand there, I assumed when there were no other footsteps echoing into my room. My head throbbed with pain and I grimaced, turning my head to its side. I didn't want to think. About Ed, or the dojo, or anything. I just wanted to fade away. And knowing that the dojo was depending on someone like that…

I began to pass out again, and I almost welcomed the darkness.

And there I was. Again. He was still there, much to my dismay. Nothing had changed. Nothing but us. "…Ed?" I whispered out, my hands shaking.

He looked just as shocked as me. Hell, maybe even more. "R-Riley," He murmured out. His hair was a little a longer, a little dustier looking, and in a ponytail. Same complexion, same bright eyes. He was a little taller, and I would have made a scene about it in any other situation.

I stepped back when I saw him try to come closer. He winced a little, frowning, and I felt guilt rising up. "I…," Shaking my head, I could only mumble, "This isn't real."

Ed gave a small, bitter chuckle, eyes turning downward. "I should be saying the same about you," He muttered, fists clenching at his side. "It'd be just my luck that this is all fake." Finally, he looked up at me. "But what if it isn't?" I paused, and that was enough to give him the motivation to continue. "What if we're both real?"

"No," I shook my head, "This is just a dream, I-"

Shaking his head, Ed tried to step toward me again. I only stepped back, and he tensed a little. "…Look, Riley. I'm on the other side of the gate. What if-"

"No!" I yelled, shaking my head. He did so, blinking in surprise at my outburst. "Just stop! Do you have any idea how hard I tried to move on? I don't want to hear about it!" The look on his face made me want to break down. I had never seen that look. It was defeat and hopelessness. And fear.

"Riley…," He murmured out, stepping toward me. Every bone in my body told me to back away, but I wouldn't let myself do it – not again. The closer he came, the more I wanted to run. But I didn't. I wouldn't. He could sense this, and he wasn't going to give me the chance to change my mind. "Tell me I'm not real, Riley, but does that change the fact we're both here?" I looked up at him and realized he was right – did it change anything? No, it wouldn't. Whether he was real or not, I was going to remember this when I woke. I was going to wish I never did wake from it and I was going to struggle to get over the new hurdle. Real or not, the outcome was going to be the exact same. But I needed to know.

Lifting my hand, I reached toward him, my hand trembling, probably due to both exhaustion and emotional drain. He stood there, expecting – waiting – for my touch to come. But it never did. I frowned as my hand went through his chest, and I looked up at him to send him this message. Yet there was a moment when I looked him in the eye and I…

He felt real. Maybe not physically real, but… An intangible real. The kind of real that you just know is there.

"Sorry," He mumbled, trying to grasp at my hand, unaware of my thoughts.

Nothing was said at first as I lowered my arm. "…Don't be." What could I have said? This wasn't a common situation to be in. We were both real, both there. I could feel it. But, at the same time, neither of us were there. I wanted to touch him, to really feel him there with me. Yet I couldn't. Whether it was me or him, there was separation there, and it felt worse than leaving him behind in that mansion.

This was completely out of our control, but wasn't it always that way? As I said, nothing had changed. Nothing but us.

Just like old times, really.

People are in my house.

They're uprooting the carpet and I'm stuck in my bedroom without a bra on. And there's no longer a door in my bedroom so I can't put one on. And I don't know if I should be more embarrassed about that or the fact FullMetal Alchemist posters are all over my walls, my cosplays are spread out in the corner and my sword collection is in plain sight. OH GOD I JUST NOTICED THE BOX OF TAMPONS ON MY BOOKSHELF.

AND NOW MY MOM'S ROAMING THE HOUSE MOCKING CEASAR MILLAN'S ACCENT.

I AM IN A DELIMMA.