She was staring emptily into the horizon when he had come to sit by her.
"That'll kill you, you know," she said without emotion, as he lit a cigarette.
He had just shrugged. He had clicked the lighter and sworn softly. "Got a light, babe?"
She had once gotten herself riled up for much less than a man calling her babe. "Sure," she had responded dully, reaching into her pocket and bringing out a matchbook. "Here."
He had stuck the match and looked at her curiously. Most women would have frowned at him and refused, even if they had matches on them. "You look exhausted," he observed, taking his first drag.
She shrugged.
He breathed out, the smoke coming out of him like it was part of his breath. "Do you mind the smell?"
"I'm used to the smell of burning things. It seems like I was born in fire, sometimes."
He nodded and took another drag. "The war makes you feel that way sometimes."
Riza shrugged again. He didn't know half of her world was immersed in fire, and the other half linked to it.
"Havoc," he said, reaching out his hand. "Private Jean Havoc."
"Riza Hawkeye," she said, shaking it quietly.
He hesitated. She was cute. Nice eyes, pretty good ass, not so curvy as he liked, but sweet-looking. There was something in her eyes that forbid him to hit on her. Not the cold death-bringing glace she would perfect later in her life, but a removed kind of emptiness. Like she wasn't all there. "You all right?"
She shrugged.
"I don't know you, darling, but you look like shit."
"Yeah, well. What happens when you spend months looking for someone and find him as lost as you are?"
His eyebrows rose in surprise. "You're lost?"
"Maybe." She shrugged. "Or maybe I'm just kidding myself."
He sighed, and reached into his pocket. "Want a cigarette?"
She hesitated. "They're bad for you."
"Doesn't stop them from being amazing."
She wasn't sure why, but she took one. She put it in her mouth and brought out the matchbook again, lighting it carefully.
Then, slowly, she inhaled.
She started coughing immediately, inhaling fresh air.
He smiled. "That happens, on the first drag."
She nodded, and determined to succeed, inhaled again. The smoke was bitter and tasted like hell, but there was a strange comfort in inhaling things that didn't belong in her body. She breathed out and jumped as the smoke came out of her nose. Then she smiled.
It was the first time she had smiled in a long time.
"You can depend on these," he said quietly.
"I see."
"Here," he said, handing her the rest of his pack. "Keep 'em."
"I'm not sure if I should," she said, a little afraid of what she had been handed. Cigarettes are bad, she had been told, and so far, she had no reason to disbelieve the fact.
"Take them," he said, and stood. "And the next time you think about suicide, take a nice drag, all right?"
She stared at him, the cigarette falling out of her mouth onto the ground. "I wasn't—"
She stopped as he glared at her. "I might not be very smart," he said slowly, "but even I can see that."
"You don't know--" but again, he cut her off.
I'm not judging you," he said carefully. "Hell, how can a failure judge anything? I've failed at everything in my life. But I'm still going."
She was silent. She had never failed at anything before. Even when it had hurt her, she had succeeded.
"But my tent is over there." He stopped talking to point. "If you ever feel like that again, come have a cigarette with me before you do anything."
He gave her a mock salute, and left.
She stared at the ground and picked up her still-burning cigarette, blinking and not even bothering to brush it off before she put it back in her mouth.
What he hell was she doing? She asked herself. She couldn't die. There was no point in dying. Even if she was alone. Even if he did look at her like he barely recognized her…
This was her life, damn it. Why the hell was she playing games with herself?
She inhaled as if she would die without the cigarette, though she had never taken one before in her life.
Even if he had left her…surely she wasn't so stupid as to take it personally?
She inhaled again, the smoke whispering out of her mouth like a secret.
Why was he here? She would find out. What did he want? She would find it with him. What did he need? She would find it for him.
She breathed out slowly, the clean air rushing into her lungs like a lifesaver. She glanced at the cigarette and frowned. It would kill her. But until she found something to live for, it would do.
well, tell me what you thought. hopefully you can see where this went, and if you're confused, pm me or leave a review so i can figure out how to make it less confusing. also, i will warn you now, everything here will just be interactions between people, so if you're looking for a little violence on the side, i don't know if you'll get it. Second thing--this is a MANGA based plot, so spoilers for the rest of your life, okay? sweet...
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