A/N: Does it still count as the day before if I don't post it until 3am? Ah well. Here's Part 5. Only one mildly angsty one this time. I think the last part makes up for it. I tried to order it chronologically. Someday, if I'm lucky, I'll have a little consistency in the lengths of the section. In the meantime, enjoy! Also, please note, I have not done like, any editing on this. I'm just trying to get this one done in time so I can go watch the season finale of Korra. If you see anything weird or stupid sounding, please let me know!

The sun was bright, and Roy was glum. He was on his daily walk to school. He clutched his lunch pail and took slow, grudging steps to class. Normally, he loved to learn. He absorbed facts, figures, and concepts much faster than his fellow students. That, however, was also the problem. It took him one class period to learn how to multiply and divide. The pieces fit together perfectly in his mind. It made sense. The other students in his 3rd grade class, however, needed a week. So on the fourth day of the same lesson being repeated, he was growing agitated. Finishing assignment after assignment in class wasn't doing him any good. So he walked as slowly as he could, shuffling one foot in front of the other.

"Roy!" The boy's head jerked up and he saw his friend, Thomas, waving frantically. The brown haired boy wasn't as book smart as Roy, but he was deviously clever. Roy's father would call him a "troublemaker" or "class clown." Roy thought he was fun. Thomas rocked back and forth on his heels, eyeing the woods just beyond the schoolhouse.

"Hey Thomas!" Roy called cheerfully, stopping just short of him. Thomas dug his toe into the mud, sucking on his bottom lip thoughtfully. "So, my brother Louis was telling me that the river's really high today. He said the minnows and fish are all over the place after the storm. But he says if we wait till after school, all the other kids will be there."

Roy furrowed his brow. "I don't think Ms. Howard will let us go during recess. It'll be too far," he replied carefully. Thomas looked up at him, grinning. "So let's just go now."

The boys shared a long look. Roy mulled over the idea. He had never skipped school before. If his father caught him, he'd probably enjoy a sound beating. "He'll never find out," Thomas interjected, as if reading Roy's thoughts. "Your dad never talks to Ms. Howard anyways. Come on! Unless you're afraid I'll catch more than you!"

Roy huffed, his pride touched. "No way! I can catch more, and I can outrun you!" Without waiting for his friend to react, Roy broke into a full run. Thomas started laughing and was close behind. Needless to say, that night his father noticed the dirt stains and scrapes only a misbehaving boy could muster. He much preferred the branches hanging lazily over the river that afternoon to the one he brought his father for a switching. When he counted the minnows in his empty lunch pail before bed, he swore that he would never skip school again.

Roy was a perfect (if not cocky) student for the next several years. Even when he left his small town and moved in with his Aunt, he never missed class. That is, until he met Rosaline. She moved just a few months before him and worked in her parent's book shop. They were fast friends, as most of the kids already had their own inside jokes and history together. After a few months, he found himself daydreaming about her. He would find excuses to come by before school, even if he wasn't going to buy anything. Often times, he caught himself counting the freckles on her nose while she read her books.

When Rosaline planted a kiss on him one winter morning on his daily stop, any thoughts of school left him. She tasted like honey and sunshine, and he relished in her the way only a 15 year old boy could. She was a years his senior, and whether it was through her books or her firsthand knowledge, the girl knew her away around him. Her skin was smooth and he was mesmerized by the pretty pink she turned. His aunt would be furious, especially since he was half aware he had two exams that day, but there were much more important things on his…mind. Besides, he did an awful lot of learning that morning. It was all equivalent exchange.

His Aunt and adoptive sisters caught on very quickly when he came home with a rosy glow set deep into his cheeks. He suffered through an incredibly detailed talk about the birds and the bees. He was sure he looked much more like a beet than anything else when Chris Mustang let him go upstairs without supper (because clearly he had more than enough to eat that afternoon).

The next few months were complete bliss with Rosaline, until he saw a notice calling for apprentices for Alchemy. Rosaline was the one who brought it up first. They promised to write, but nothing more. She made him promise that he wouldn't forget her when he became a famous alchemist. He vowed he wouldn't.

Riza loved the Spring. She never said so, but Roy had noticed the way she seemed to have lightness to her steps this time of year. When he would pause in his studies for lunch, he could sometimes hear the quiet humming filtering from the backyard where she pruned the blooming honeysuckle. In the mornings, he would sometimes be granted a rare, reserved smile from her when the sun shone through the windows. Roy had never really cared for Spring (the blooming flowers made his nose tickle and his eyes water), but the infectious nature of the young blonde was changing his mind.

It was May, almost a year after he arrived, when he was finishing up a morning's lesson with Master Hawkeye. The man shooed him off, telling him to come back in an hour for more lessons. Roy was more than pleased to take a break. The symbols and formulas were starting to make his head hurt. He wanted nothing more than to enjoy a break with the young woman who sat in the sunshine. He walked downstairs and saw her tying a sheer shawl over her white sundress. She looked up as he entered the kitchen and nodded delicately towards him. She picked up the large woven basket on the counter and tilted her head towards the refrigerator.

"There's some fish left in the fridge. I'll be back later."

Roy clicked his tongue in dismay. "Now? Where are you going?"

Riza gave him a quizzical look. "The market. I just need a few things."

The dark haired apprentice pursed his lips, his mind racing. He had just wanted a little downtime with her before going back to work. She couldn't leave yet! Just an hour…

Roy paused, his lips curling into a half smirk. "I'll go with you!"

It was Riza's turn to purse her lips. "Mr. Mustang, you are still in the middle of your lessons. You don't havetime to go with me. I'll manage on my own." Roy shrugged lackadaisically and strolled up to her, taking the basket from her hands.

"Nonsense! You father won't miss me. He's nose deep in his research right now. He won't even notice I'm gone!"

Riza seemed to weigh her options, her amber eyes staring hard at the insistent boy in front of her. Eventually, she relented, and he gave her his full, brilliant grin. She graced him with a lovely little blush and then turned on her heel and marched out the door. He fell right into place beside her, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. He commented on the weather and her dress. Riza rolled her eyes.

Roy swung the basket back and forth as they walked, talking about the latest book his teacher's daughter had been reading. He enjoyed listening to her soft, direct responses about the hefty topics she was studying. She had a gentle, firm intelligence that Roy admired. Riza never bragged, although he would occasionally catch a pleased smile on her lips when she bested him at chess or when she corrected him during their debates. He could see her spine straighten with pride when he melted after eating her home cooked meals. The crinkle in her eyes when he said something humorous was easier to see now.

They chatted all the way to the market, where Riza was efficient as always. Roy stopped at each stall, tasting free samples and flirting shamelessly with the older women. He had no intention of returning quickly to the Hawkeye Estate, and found every way possible to drag it out further. He ignored the slight twitch of Riza's eyebrow as she waited for him. He shared his latest prize, a bag of chocolate covered almonds, as a peace offering.

"I do have things to do," she muttered as she stole a couple almonds from him. He popped one his mouth, glancing over at her and smiling. "I just think we spend too much time cooped up at home. Can't you just appreciate the day? It's beautiful outside!"

Riza snorted, chewing on her almond thoughtfully. Her gaze drifted across the scenery and her expression softened. If she noticed the taller boy staring openly at her, she did not say anything. The corners of her lips tilted and some of the tightness in her shoulders lessened.

"It is, isn't it?"

Their walk turned into a stroll, and their stroll turned into little more than a shuffle. The bag of almonds was completely empty by the time they got home, and the sun was kissing the horizon. Roy was right, and Hawkeye had no idea they had been gone. He had hardly moved since his apprentice had disappeared for lunch. The pair shared a wordless look and Roy slunk off upstairs, pleased that for once no one noticed he had disappeared from class. That night, he fell asleep to dreams of cropped blonde hair and the smell of honeysuckle.

Four years later, Roy was working through his third year of training at the Military Academy. He learned quickly and excelled beyond his peers, as he was wont to do. He was the Golden Child of his class, and he made many friends and enemies by doing so. He was thankful for his friends, though, when he received an unexpected letter in the mail. It was from a physician – Berthold Hawkeye's physician. The man was concerned for the alchemist's health, and knew that Riza would likely need help when the time came. Roy appeared to be the only person still capable or willing to assist the dying man.

If it had only been down to the aged alchemist, Roy would have never considered going back to that tiny town in the South. The name still left a bitter taste in the back of his throat – a simmering anger over the treatment from his master when he learned Roy wanted to go into the military. He had very nearly thrown the letter away when he saw her name.

Riza will likely need help when the time comes.

His heart lurched at the mention of the small girl who he had shared a home with for nearly two years. He could still remember the mornings where the smell of sizzling eggs and sausage would be the only thing dragging him downstairs. He could still recall the glint of sunlight as it reflected off the short, uneven strands of her golden hair. It was those rare smiles she graced him with, that he remembered the most.

He had to go.

He left in the middle of the night, swearing to his bunkmate he'd be back in three days' time. Maes had grumbled considerably, trying to figure out what possible lie he could use to cover up his friend's stupid decisions. The train ride left Roy ample time to be worried and anxious and angry. When he made it to the tiny town he had called home for two years, all that was left in him was fear. He very nearly turned around, but the weight of two large, amber eyes held him back.

The house looked like it hadn't been tended to since he left. It chilled him to the bone as he walked up to the front door. The scent of rotting flowers wafted through the air. She opened the door, and all breath was gone from him. Riza Hawkeye was a woman. Her hair, though still short, seemed to fit her face better. The awkward budding curves of her youth were now the gentle slopes of an adult. Her back was straight, but it was not quiet confidence that kept her alert. No, there was a weary resignation that settled over her like the yawning emptiness of her home. She was not ill, but this house and her father were slowly killing her. That much he could tell.

She seemed as startled to see him, but let him in without question. He felt her inquisitive gaze as she looked over his uniform. He recalled her uneasy acceptance of his decision from several years ago. Did she still accept him now? He did not dare to ask. She demonstrated where her father was, reminding the soldier what he was supposed to be here for. Roy suddenly felt very, very lost. Riza reached out and touched his forearm. He nearly jolted at the contact. She met his eyes and nodded silently. Briefly, he wondered how she always seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. He took a breath and went upstairs.

Later on, Roy Mustang would wonder if the Hawkeyes' physician had a sixth sense. In the three days Roy skipped training, he was able to speak with his former master, watch him die, and bury him. Riza would never admit it, but she would've been completely unequipped to handle her father's arrangements. She did not cry, because her father had been dead for quite some time. But her hands still trembled and her voice was tight and tenuous. He also learned what weighed down so heavily on the young woman's shoulders.

With no time to study her father's secret, Roy made a promise he would return in a month's time, after the cadets were released for winter break. She was understanding, just like she always was, and he somehow felt worse about leaving her now than the first time. He did not tell her the amount of demerits he received when he returned, or the amount of bathrooms he had to clean to spend those few days with her. He did not tell her that the grateful, broken smile she gave him churned something deep in his soul. He certainly did not tell her that just the knowledge that she did not have to spend her father's last moments made it worth it. Roy could not do much for the too-small woman in the too-large house, but he could at least do that. He could do that.

"Sir? Sir! Fuhrer Mustang!"

The Fuhrer straightened suddenly, his eyes shooting open. The officer in front of him looked awfully angry. Roy heaved a heavy sigh and waved the officer forward.

"Sir, you need to review the new instructional materials for the course. It needs to be approved by the end of the day. You need to sit in on the class," the officer explained severely, his frown set deep in his face. Roy looked over the papers with a little bemusement.

"When does this class start?"

"15 minutes, sir."

Roy grumbled something under his breath. "What was that, sir?"

"I'll be there shortly," Roy repeated, nearly drifting off again. It had been a fitful couple of nights this past week. He stood, straightening out his uniform. It had been nearly four years since he took office, but he still had trouble getting used to his new uniform. He missed the Amestrian Blues, but a new government required a new uniform. Roy looked over the papers once more, tucking them into his briefcase. Just as he was about to leave, the phone on his desk rang. His eyes narrowed on the object, his heartrate accelerating. He clutched the receiver and picked it up. "Fuhrer Mustang, speaking."

"Roy. Get here.Now."

Every organ inside the Fuhrer's body turned to gelatin. He would recognize the voice of that woman anywhere. She sounded like she was in pain. He suddenly felt like he was going to be sick.

"Now? Like, right now?"

"No, please, take your time. It's not like I'm sitting in a hospital at the moment. Of course right now."

"A-Alright, I'm on my way. Just hang on, Riza."

Roy felt his entire arm shaking like a leaf as he dropped the phone and his briefcase. His secretary looked at him in alarm as he all but ran out of his office.

"F-Fuhrer Mustang! Is it time?" she called after him, her voice falling on deaf ears. Roy passed several startled soldiers on his way out the door. His personal guard trailed after him, cursing at him as he got into his car and drove much faster than any normal person had a right to. The hospital was blessedly close to his office. He was sure he would hear about leaving his car in the ambulance lane, but at the moment he had more pressing matters.

The nurse at the front nearly knocked into him as he darted in, his eyes wide and his breathing labored. "Where is she?" he questioned, reaching out to touch the nurse's arm. She flushed and looked towards a doctor nearby. He recognized Roy and hurried over, taking the Fuhrer by the arm. "She's on the second floor. Come with me."

Roy refused to say anything more. He didn't know what to do. The sound of her voice echoed in his ears as the doctor tried to explain what was going on. "…It comes and goes every few minutes… She's not out of the woods yet…. but I think she'll make it through fine…" Nothing the doctor said mattered until they rounded the corner and turned into the room. Rebecca was there, her brown hair swept into a messy ponytail. She sighed in relief at the sight of him, leaning down to the woman on the bed.

"Ri. Hey, Riza, he's here. Roy's here. About damn time, too."

It only took two steps for him to make it to her bedside. Sweat beaded across the blonde's forehead. Her amber eyes squinted in pain as she reached out to him. He grasped her hand, his face pale. His eyes swept over her, watching her grip her swollen abdomen. Riza let out a sharp cry, her knuckles turning white. "Roy, this fucking hurts."

"That's why they're called contractions, Riza. They're getting shorter, so it shouldn't be too much longer," Rebecca replied, holding a cold compress over her best friend's forehead. The pregnant woman glared back at the brunette. "Thank you for telling me what Ialreadyknow, Rebecca. Just get this babyout of me."

Roy looked over at the nurse, who was checking all of Riza's vitals. "It won't be too much longer now, Riza," he promised, smoothing out the damp hair on her forehead. "Just breathe. The baby's almost here."

By almost here, he really meant another 10 hours. It had to have been the longest 10 hours of his life. He had dealt with his wife through her mood swings and pestering for most of his life. But the amount of fury and vitriol that Riza Mustang expelled during labor was on a totally different playing field. He was so thankful when Gracia arrived and joined forces with Rebecca. Between the two women, Riza was well looked after. Roy was in a near panic trying to be supportive of his wife, stay out of her way, and worry over his unborn child. He was a man who liked to make strategies and plan ahead. But this, thiswas beyond his ability to calculate and execute any sort of coherent strategy. So he paced.

It was nearly midnight when he heard Riza's cries intensify. "I see the head! Just a few more pushes, Mrs. Mustang! You're almost there!" Roy clung to his wife's hand, no longer able to feel the blood flowing in his fingers. His lips ghosted across her knuckles as he sucked in a breath. His gaze ping ponged between her face and between her legs. When he heard the second, tinier voice cry out in response to Riza's shouts, the world went still.

The doctors worked quickly to clean off the child, and Roy could do nothing but stare. "She's a healthy baby girl," the doctor announced. The soft wails were the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. Riza held out her arms, taking the newborn into her arms. Unable to help himself, Roy reached out, the tips of his fingers touching the top of the baby girl's head. A sudden well of emotion seemed to choke him. His wife must have heard him, because she looked up at him with a wide grin.

"Roy, She's beautiful," she breathed, her voice still shaken. The flame alchemist leaned forward, kissing Riza and then their daughter with the tenderness of a butterfly's wings. When he leaned back, he felt the distinct taste of tears at the corner of his mouth. He couldn't bring himself to care if they were his or hers. All that mattered were the two women in front of him.

"Yes, she is. She's perfect."

Gracia and Rebecca took turns admiring the small bundle. Roy chuckled quietly to himself, watching his wife. She glanced up at him, silently asking him what was so funny. "I just remembered, I was supposed to sit through a class this afternoon."

Rebecca looked up briefly from cooing at the small child. "What class was it?"

Roy flashed an ironic smile, looking back at the blonde sharpshooter lying in the hospital bed. Even now, with the weariness of post-birth, she was breathtaking. He reached out and picked up his newborn daughter, cradling her somewhat awkwardly in his arms. He imagined he'd get used to it soon. He shook his head in mild disbelief before looking back up at Rebecca.

"It was on identifying and preventing fraternization."