Early autumn was Izumi Curtis's favorite season. The heat wasn't too overwhelming, and the brutal cold of winter hadn't quite settled in yet. She felt her students did their best during this time of year and that they were most comfortable outdoors. Izumi assisted with two athletic departments in the fall, and both were practiced in the different fields behind Central Amestris Academy. While she enjoyed her position, and the kids she worked with, by far, the best aspect of athletics was her ability to completely avoid Headmaster Bradley for days at a time. She could arrive in the mornings to finish up her grading spreadsheets and various packets of paperwork and be out at the archery range before the insufferable headmaster was known to stalk the hallways. Afternoons were more difficult, but they seemed to be perfectly content avoiding one another.

She scanned the booklet containing the tournament schedule one last time before turning her attention to the four students who would be competing. There were actually ten members of this department, but frankly, the majority couldn't hit a target if their lives depended on it. Teaching them to properly hold and successfully fire was enough to make her head ache fiercely.

Riza Hawkeye was her most apt pupil. Her focus was intense and her aim terrifyingly accurate. Izumi often wondered about Riza's thoughts when she shut the world out and kept her gaze down range. Despite her smaller size, which sometimes earned snickers from anyone who didn't know better, young Miss Hawkeye's skills were unmatched. Riza's only weakness was that damn shoulder of hers. All it took was a split second of divided attention during her brief foray into grappling to dislodge it and inflict lingering inflammation. Archery may not have been the cause of the injury, but her refusal to give it up certainly didn't help any.

The weekend tournament was in an unfamiliar location, but Izumi was confident. Her biggest concern at the moment was keeping the morning sprinters from collecting like lint in a trap along the fence behind the firing line. Track and field wasn't her jurisdiction, but the runners were fascinated all the same. She hated policing them and often complained to Hakuro about their ogling. Usually his response was something along the lines of, If they aren't on your range, then it shouldn't bother you. But it did bother her. Coach Hakuro was an ass, in her opinion, and liked to lord his few extra years of seniority over her whenever he saw an opportunity.

Two of the runners seemed to stop and watch more often than any of the others. Izumi couldn't always hear their discussions, but body language alone implied they were not friends. The taller of the two she recognized as Riza's constantly-grinning boyfriend. His name usually escaped her, but ultimately, it was irrelevant. She didn't think he'd be on the team for long if that disgusting smoking habit of his continued. He'd burn out his lungs by the time he was thirty. The darker haired boy Izumi knew as Roy Mustang. His aunt had a standing contract with her husband's butcher shop. She owned several establishments around Central City and served a lavish dinner hour. Rumor had it her menu wasn't limited to just alcohol and food, but that was none of Izumi's business.

The boys stood several yards apart and rarely spoke to one another, even if they both had eyes only for Riza. The girl never acknowledged their presence and didn't actually even seem to notice they were there. Her eyes single-mindedly focused down range, and Izumi wondered if that was for the best.

Roy's skin crawled. He hated the way Havoc stood at the fence separating the running tracks from the archery range watching Riza. It wasn't a daily occurrence, but he caught him at it more often than he felt was strictly necessary. Didn't the asshole get enough time with her already? Did he have to stare so openly? His fingers itched to curl into a fist and clock Havoc in the teeth. Before he could make good on his fantasies, a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Hey! You're wasting away over here!" Maes Hughes was his closest friend other than Riza. They'd started out as rivals on the field, locked in a constant battle to one-up each other, but eventually bonded in a mutual dislike of Coach Hakuro. He'd made them run laps in the rain after one particularly disruptive squabble, and it was enough to forge a friendship.

With one final dirty glare at Havoc, who wouldn't tear his eyes from his girlfriend long enough to see it, Roy jogged behind Hughes back to the track.

"Why do you do that?" Hughes asked in his naturally nonchalant way.

"Do what?"

Hughes laughed. "You know what. If looks could kill, Havoc would be a smoking pile of ash back there. Why do you hate him so much?"

Roy ground his teeth and tried to think about something else. Anything else. "I just do."

"You two were hardly winning any brotherly love awards before he started dating Riza, but now no one wants to be around either of you at the same time. Doesn't that bother you?"

"I don't care."

"Does he treat her bad or something?" One of Maes' more annoying qualities was the ability to suck a person into an interrogation before they saw it coming.

"No," Roy mumbled petulantly. Damn you, Hughes. Just leave it alone.

"Do you have a thing for Riza then? I doubt Becky would like that very much-"

"Damn it, Hughes, give it a rest! No, I don't have a thing for Riza! She's like my sister, okay? I just think she can do better than fucking Havoc." Roy hated saying that. Riza wasn't his sister.

"Ah, so it's that she's fucking him, then? That's what's got your panties in a twist?"

"Hughes, I swear to god. Leave it alone."

"I'll leave it alone when you leave it alone." They rounded a curve of the track and broke off onto a dirt trail that circled the Academy grounds. "You coming to the dam Saturday night? I hear Breda got his hands on some good stuff, and I bet if Kimblee gets drunk enough, he'll light some of those fireworks we all know he smuggled back from summer vacation in Xing."

"Yeah, I guess. Bec wants to, and she's insisting on babysitting me at Riza's tournament."

Hughes laughed breathlessly. "Ha! She knows you well enough."

They completed the rest of their run in silence. With every exhale, Roy tried to cleanse his mind of the thought of Riza having any kind of sex with Havoc.

Roy was embarrassed to admit he'd only been to a handful of Riza's archery tournaments since she'd been competing. Their first year at the academy, she attended all his track and field events, and he absolutely hated that the act of cheering him on had resulted in her meeting Havoc. Now she showed up for both of them, and Roy despised sharing her with him. In the most selfish part of his teenage heart, he could admit he may have been punishing her a little for having a boyfriend he disliked so keenly by not showing up at her tournaments, but he just let her believe it was because of Havoc. The admission of gross self-centeredness didn't disgust Roy any less, but there it was.

He didn't understand a damn thing about archery, but he wanted Riza to be successful at it and to see that her interests were important to him, despite his absences. Not that his presence had anything to do with her skills. Her wall of ribbons and case of trophies proved it didn't, but he hoped she knew he cared just as much as she did. Havoc got in the way of all that. It occurred to him that his casual habit of promiscuity may have upset her in the past, though, she'd never said anything. It also occurred to him how sexist he was acting by allowing her relationship to bother him at all. It wasn't jealousy, though. It wasn't.

The targets appeared small at the end of the field, and several white tents flapped in a slight breeze behind him. Rebecca chatted animatedly with Hughes and his new girlfriend Sheska. Roy's eyes were on Riza. She stood near the middle of a line of other female archers behind a strip of red chalk, methodically adjusting her equipment. He glanced at Havoc, whose hand fumbled around his pocket periodically, laughing at whatever joke Breda had cracked. His addiction to cigarettes was most obvious when he wasn't allowed to smoke. Roy hadn't intended for the tournament to be a group activity, but Rebecca thought it would be a fun precursor to a night of drinking.

A whistle blew, signifying the first flight, and Roy watched, enrapt, as Riza expertly toed the shooting line, drew the bow string, and released. Her face remained impassive, but he knew her well enough to tell she was in concentration mode. He didn't expect a smile or a glance at her crowd of friends. Riza was nothing if not focused. She had always been that way, and Roy learned early on not to try and get between her and the object of fascination. She fluidly pulled another arrow from her quiver and nocked it. Roy couldn't see where her arrow pierced the target, but she rarely missed her quarry.

In the second flight, Riza's stance lilted slightly, and her shoulder twisted at an odd angle. Roy's eyebrows drew together, and he glanced at her coach, who was standing rigidly several feet behind her. The change in her student's posture hadn't gone unnoticed. She paced back and forth the entire hour, and her anxiety grated on Roy. None of his friends seemed to be paying enough attention to see any difference.

Riza rolled her shoulders and compulsively adjusted the position of her chest guard. Her back was to him, but the fidgeting told Roy all he needed to know. Something was wrong. When the whistle blew again, Coach Curtis was immediately at Riza's side, probing her shoulder. He couldn't hear anything that was being said, but Riza was emphatically shaking her head. They were having a disagreement regarding whatever was amiss.

"What's going on?" Rebecca's voice in his ear startled him.

"Hm?" He glanced at her.

"Riza. What's happening? She looks upset."

"I'm not sure. I think she's arguing with her coach about whatever's wrong with her shoulder. She was off balance the entire flight."

"It's fine," the voice Roy least wanted to hear spoke behind him.

"How do you know she's fine?" Roy bit out, only turning his head toward Havoc halfway.

"Because, unlike you, Mustang, I'm always here on the sideline. Riza tends to get stiff this much time in. She'll work it out in her own way."

"What's wrong with her shoulder?" he asked before he could stop himself. Roy did not want to look to Havoc for inside information on Riza. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw him smirk.

Havoc pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and, without taking his eyes off Roy, said, "I'm gonna go have a smoke. Breda, you with me?" He turned on his heel and left the group.

Rebecca's hand closed tightly around his arm, and Roy clenched his fist. He watched Havoc walk away and wanted nothing more than to chase after him and make good on his teeth-punching fantasy. Maes helpfully stepped into Roy's line of sight.

"You hungry, Roy? Wanna grab some concessions?"

"No," Roy hissed. "I want to beat that guy's face in, and I want to know what's up with Riza."

"Well, you can't have either right now. So either calm the hell down, or I'll escort you to the parking lot. Whatever's bothering Riza doesn't need to be exacerbated by your beef with Havoc."

Roy shoved his free hand into his pocket and looked at Rebecca. Her grip on his arm lessened a bit, but her eyes were pleading. He sighed and pressed his cheek to the top of her head. "I'm fine," he said in a low voice.

Riza battled her shoulder throughout the next flight but didn't shoot again after that. She packed her personal equipment away in a carrying case, returned her number to the judges table, and signed herself out. Coach Curtis gently squeezed her shoulders and sent her walking towards her friends. Roy tried not to seethe as Havoc embraced her and she slumped into his arms. To her credit, she didn't cry. Not that he'd expected her to; Riza hadn't ever been much of a crier. She just got angry and fixed her mind more solidly on the goal.

She pulled away from Jean and smiled at Roy. Her hand grasped his lightly. "Thanks for coming, Roy. Sorry you had to see me lose like that. Normally I can power through."

His expression brightened at the attention. "I'm not sorry I came. I'm just sorry your shoulder is bugging you that bad."

Riza grit her teeth and rolled the shoulder in question. "I need to go home and ice it."

"You're coming tonight, though, right? To the dam?" Rebecca interjected.

"I don't know. I'm pretty tired, and I shouldn't be out so late."

Rebecca put her hands on her hips. "Why not? You aren't competing tomorrow anymore, and you need to relax. I'll take you home and make sure you don't back out."

Riza grinned and quickly kissed her boyfriend's cheek before allowing herself to be dragged away by Rebecca. Havoc smirked at Roy one last time before following them.

"Becky sure is pushy," Hughes mumbled when the trio was well out of hearing range.

"If Riza didn't really want to go, she wouldn't have relented." Roy shrugged and toed the grass beneath his feet. Riza was injured, and it obviously wasn't new. It bothered him that he hadn't known about the lingering shoulder issue. "Can I get a ride with you guys? I just realized I came with Bec, and I don't think I can stomach being in a car with Havoc for an hour."

Maes laughed and guided Sheska through the crowd. "Come on, you big, pouting baby. I think it's actually you who needs to relax the most."

Roy couldn't disagree about needing to relax, but he wasn't pouting. He wasn't.