3. A Little Advice
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Rob was stressed. Very stressed.
Rob knew that some younger teenagers broke out into pimples when they were very stressed, like he was now. Fortunately, he had inherited his father's smooth, pale skin without a single hint of a blemish. But if he could break out, his entire face would've been covered with acne right now.
He ran his fingers through his black hair. Besides the whole Sarah getting all mad and going psycho on him thing, his father was annoying him. Very much, always prattling about this Karen Armstrong. Which he was doing right now.
"Miss Karen Armstrong is blah blah blah blah," Roy said. "So you should blah blah blah."
Rob tuned out, hoping that Dad would finish with this long-winded lecture soon. Weren't fathers supposed to be supportive, dispensing information on how to deal with girlfriends and girls as friends, and just females in general? Women were a strange lot, Rob thought. They got angry and happy easily, they had total power over men although males were usually physically stronger. Women were hell and heaven at the same time, good and bad. Just look at his parents' relationship. No doubt that Dad could kill Mom in a fight, being the Flame Alchemist and Fuhrer and all, but it was apparent that Mom was the one who ruled the family behind the scenes.
Rob decided to ask about that.
"Dad?"
"Yes, Robert?" Roy stopped in the middle of his lecture, a little annoyed. He was getting into the virtues of Karen now, how obedient and kind and all around perfect she was. Even though he met the girl only on two separate occasions, and both of the times they hadn't said more than five words to each other. Seriously.
"Uh, it's about girls," Rob started to say a little reluctantly.
Roy's eyes lit up instantly, like a child getting a puppy for Christmas or something like that. He placed his gloved hands on Rob's shoulders. Rob became a little alarmed. Whenever Dad got happy for little or no reason like this, it meant trouble. Always. Like that one time on his seventh birthday, he promised that it would the best birthday ever! It had ended with all the guests soaking wet, Riza angry and covered in cake, Black Hayate turning out to be a girl and producing about five puppies, and a very tearful Rob. Rob considered it the second worst birthday in his entire life.
Don't ask what the first worst one was. Seriously. Don't. Let's just say that Rob would never, ever, EVER forget the day when turned ten years old/
Ever.
Bad memory. Bad memory. Think happy thoughts.
"Son, I have waited this day since you were born," Roy stated in a solemn tone. "I imagined many things on the day you were born. Your first word. Your first day of school. First lost tooth. First growth spurt. Graduation. Marriage. Leaving home. And by the way, when you do leave with Karen Armstrong, why don't you take the Armstrong summer estate? It's by the seashore and-"
"Dad, I'm not marrying Ka-"
"Sorry, Robert. Back to the subject at hand. So, the day you were born, I dreamt of giving you The Talk. The birds and the bees."
Rob's eyes widened in horror. This couldn't be happening. No, it couldn't. This was beyond the utmost terror. Beyond anything he ever had to face, and that included waking up at five in the morning and running two miles in winter. Shirtless.
"Dad, Mom already gave me The Talk. Years ago," Rob managed to say. His father had been acting oddly lately. More oddly than lately. He didn't know the reason. (Which was that Roy was excited about the upcoming Winter Ball. That and the fact that Sarah and Rob's relationship seemed very rocky of late.)
Roy's mouth dropped open. "No!"
"Actually, Dad, yes."
It hadn't been so bad, he thought. He had been a partially naïve thirteen-year-old who still wasn't sure about the mysteries about sex, so he had asked Mom. She'd given him The Talk, smoothing over the grosser parts, and then lent him a book to borrow, and then left him to figure out all the finer details on his own. He'd been grateful to his mother for that, for being casual and subtle about everything. His Dad, on the other hand, would've gotten into all the descriptive details, possibly recalling stories from when he was young.
Rob liked Mom better than Dad, he decided. Mom was patient and sensible, not rash like Dad. She was also a better diplomat in his opinion.
"But she's a woman! She's one of them! How could she give you, practically a full-grown man, The Talk? It's always the father's duty to give The Talk to his son! Damn you, Riza! Why do you always insist on taking away everything precious away from meeeeee!"
Okay, now Dad was overreacting. Rob shook his shoulders free of Roy's hands. He hated it whenever Dad decided to overdramatize things, as per usual. He had a distinct feeling that Dad actually liked doing that.
"Besides, this isn't about The Talk. It's about girls in general. Women. Females. Whatever you want to call them. They're really confusing. I mean, Sarah beat me up into a pulp just yesterday and then threw me out the window, and when Mr. Elric came back, he stepped on my face on purpose and said, 'See ya, sucker!' So I guess it's about Mr. Elric, too."
"What? That bastard! He stepped on your face!" Roy thought up of things to say to Ed the next time they met him. They'd never agreed on face-stepping! Grrrr, he'd get it next time!
"Girls, Dad, girls. We're talking about girls. And in-laws. I mean, not in-laws, but the parents of your girlfriend. Or your maybe ex-girlfriend who's mad at you. Anyways, girls."
"Yes, yes. Girls. Women are fickle, Robert. They are not the same as you or me. Technically, they're humans. But I do have my doubts. They're a whole different species from us, with a whole different way of living and thinking," Roy started to explain. "I lived with your mother for years and years. And I've known her for even longer, when both of us were just dumb kids. Ah, those good old days. Back when your mother was still a weakling and could get beat up by me. Ahhh."
Rob thought of this. It made sense. Total sense. It explained a lot of things about girls. Why did they like huddling up in groups and giggling so much? He knew a few smart, sensible ones here and there in the military, and Sarah happened to be one of them.
He thought of Sarah again. Sarah, blond hair and gold eyes and wide, earnest smile. Sarah Elric, his one true love. He thought wistfully of her. He noticed the longer he stayed away from her, the more he missed her. He wanted to see her. Now.
He tuned back into what Roy was saying.
"Women play mind games on men and on each other. They're crafty, they're clever, they're very subtle. Oh, they're not direct and honest like us. They're all little liars, little liars. Not liars. They just leave things out and twist everything else to make it sound like the complete opposite of what it really is. Oh, once you enter the world of women, Robert, things will change forever."
"How? Sarah changed my life, but in a good way," Rob replied, thinking about that one day they had the picnic in Resembool, the day he said that he loved her. And she had stared back, even blushed a little, and said, "Me, too."
"Trust me. They do change your life in a bad way," Roy nodded his head in a superior way, the older generation passing information to the younger one. "I mean, at first it seems all right, but later on, it gets pretty bad. The women, they give orders like a Brigadier General gives an order to a simple Private," Roy explained things in military terms. (Rob rolled his eyes.) "It's always do this or do that or why can't you be this way or why are you this way? Trust me, Rob. It gets to be pure hell."
Rob brooded on this a little, ignoring all military metaphors, something he got tired of years ago. Putting aside the military metaphor in this particular conversation, though, it all made sense. All women, even ones like Sarah, had this underlying strength, something that could overpower all males in a second.
Roy got more into detail, proving Rob's suspicions.
"It's a fact that men are physically stronger than women. (Of course, I would have to make exceptions to this rule. Your mother, for instance. Few men have beaten her in an arm-wrestling contest. But moving on.) And despite the fact that we are superior in strength, women have the upper hand in many things. There's just something about it. Maybe it's a secret handed down from mother to daughter from generation to generation, as secret as top classified military information."
Another military metaphor. Another roll of eyes from Rob.
But besides another military metaphor, Rob understood what his dad was trying to get at. Kind of. Women were strange, mystical beings. Like unicorns, except they weren't always friendly, and they were a lot more easier to find. And treading with all women was going to be hard, even Sarah. He needed to find out more on how to get along with girls. But Dad probably wasn't the best source of it. He planned to ask someone else later. Not Mom. Definitely not Mom.
"What about in-laws?" Rob asked, remembering how Mr. Elric had stomped on his face earlier, practically breaking his nose! Mr. Elric scared him. A lot. Why couldn't he be more like his brother, Al? Al was nice. Al was great. He let Rob call him "Al" instead of sticking with the stiffer, more formal, "Mr. Elric." So why did Sarah's dad have to be the mean brother?
"Hmmm? To tell you the truth, I didn't have any trouble with in-laws. Riza's mom died a long time ago, and I never met her. Riza's dad was not quite right in the head. He was actually batshit insane."
Rob stared at his father. "But you said that Grandpa Hawkeye was a great alchemist, the one who passed down flame alchemy and everything else you know down to you. You said that he was a great man, and that you were sorry he wasn't around to see his daughter and grandson. You said that he was a great man, and that I should be proud to be his grandson."
Roy glared, remembering that his son had a nearly perfect memory, "That was when you were eight. How can you remember something from back then? And I said that to his grave. When you go to the graves of people you know, you have to do or say something dramatic or sentimental. It's like a newly-signed law, something that a lot of people forget, but still a law."
"So what did you about Grandpa Hawkeye?" Rob asked eagerly, hoping to find out and do to Mr. Elric whatever Dad did to Grandpa Hawkeye.
"Oh. He died. Before I married Riza. Before I fell in love with her, even," Roy shrugged. "A bit unfortunate for Riza and me in a few ways, but also convenient. You see, without Master Hawkeye around, there wasn't anyone to protest against us, and he died just when I joined the military, so he couldn't really get on my case about it. Stupid, demented old man. He was a freak, Robert, a real freak. You were actually lucky not to know him. Thank God that your mother took after her mother, and not her crazy old man."
Rob didn't think that this solution would work. As much as he disliked Mr. Elric, he certainly didn't want him to die. Sarah would be devastated. And Mr. Elric seemed pretty tough, the kind of guy who could survive several encounters with death. (And from what stories he had heard about Mr. Elric's earlier exploits, at an age even younger than him, he thought that Mr. Elric was near invincible.)
"Yeah. Thanks, Dad. See ya later."
And Rob waved and left. Roy shrugged and went on doing dreaded paperwork, the kind that he puts off at the last minute.
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
The military served coffee tasted good, but not as good as Starducks, Breda thought. There was a Starducks not too far away from here. Maybe he'd go there later. (AN: Yeah, I know. Starbucks and Starducks. Pretty corny, but I couldn't resist.)
"Hi, Uncle Breda. Can I ask you a question?" Rob asked.
Breda looked up at the boy, a miniature Roy with Riza's features. He'd known the kid since he was born, and whenever Rob wanted to know something, it was usually something that his parents should've told him. (Uncle Breda, how exactly do you French kiss? Uncle Breda, how come it's impossible to see how you're sleeping no matter how long you close your eyes and look in the mirror? Uncle Breda, I'm having some problems with learning how to shoot a gun. Can you give me some advice? Uncle Breda, why do Mom and Dad lock their door at night? Uncle Breda?)
Right now, Rob had cornered him in the cafeteria at lunch, at the table with a few of his other fellows. Not the best time, but why the hell not? Roy and Riza were frightening, he knew. He might as well help out the boy whenever he could.
"Sure, kid. Shoot." Breda nodded, taking another sip of the coffee, which was sweet but not overly sweet, and didn't use artificial sugars.
"If you think that you're girlfriend's mad at you for something, and you're having in trouble with the in-laws, what should you do?"
"Sarah's mad at you?" Breda asked. "For what? I thought you guys got along pretty well."
Breda almost smirked. Sarah Elric and Rob Mustang were a huge source of gossip. For one thing, they were certainly a cute couple, childhood friends (or maybe enemies) to boot. Secondly, both of their fathers were bigwigs in the military, or used to be in Edward's case. Thirdly, it was surprising that Ed and Roy would've even allowed it.
Privately, Breda thought that the kids went great together. Of course, he didn't tell Roy that.
"Well, she got mad because I was going to the Winter Ball with some other girl, probably one from a big, powerful, rich, and influential family. But it wasn't my fault because Dad said that I had to, and I couldn't say no because I was doing something kind of weird at the time, and I wanted him to leave," Rob explained, leaving out the part about reading the romance book. (Which hadn't turned out as bad as he expected. It'd been worse. Some sappy love rectangle that turned into an even sappier love pentagon which ended happily ever after. Whatever. Rob wondered how smart, sensible Sarah could've liked such a book.)
Breda stared at Rob, amazed by his sheer stupidity. And he knew right at that moment that was indeed Roy's son.
"You made one hell of a mistake. Never cheat on a girl who is officially your girlfriend," Breda explained in a tone that a wiser man explains to a young, eager boy wanting to learn. "I mean, it's bad for us guys, but for girls, it's forbidden. Never cheat on girls."
"Cheat on her? That's what it seems like to her?" Rob asked, bewildered and confused. "But she knows I only like her! I told her so!"
Breda almost rolled his eyes. Rob was still an inexperienced kid, he reminded himself. And Sarah was the first girl who "fell in love" with.
"You're still cheating on her, though. Ditch that other chick and ask Sarah out for the Winter Ball if you really want to make up with her," Breda shrugged.
Really, Uncle Breda was a lot more sensible than Dad, Rob thought. No military metaphors, no overdramatizing things, just straight, honest, things. And they made even more sense than what Dad was trying to tell him. From now on, he'd go to Uncle Breda instead of Dad.
"Thanks, Uncle. Bye," Roy said, and waved. He left.
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
"Hey Uncle Fury?" Rob went up to another one of his adopted uncles.
"Yeah?"
"Never mind."
And then Rob left. Idiot for not remembering about Uncle Fury's legendary girl troubles, Rob thought to himself, leaving behind a confused Fury. Rob shook his head. He'd been acting kind of silly lately.
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
While Rob was seeking advice in Central, Edward was suffering in Resembool.
"I…I…I can't believe…that…he would…cheat on me!" Sarah wailed, sobbing into a tissue. "I thought that he loved me! Waaaaaah!"
Really, sometimes Ed wondered if Sarah was his. No way would he cry over a broken heart. He'd just move on. It was a part of life.
But Sarah didn't seem to think so. After beating up and throwing Rob out the window, she started crying about him. A little strange, but whatever. Ed grinned as he remembered the satisfying way his boot had slammed into Rob's face, and how blood had spurted out of Rob's nose, and how Rob had even given out a little shriek. He was glad he'd come home earlier than he expected, and even more please to find out that Rob had been laying on the ground for hours, half-hoping that Sarah would come out and forgive him. Only after Ed had stepped on his face had Rob run away.
But Sarah remained a head case the rest of the evening and all day. Besides the crying, she had the momentary fits of anger in which she cursed Rob to the deepest, darkest pits of hell. And during the entire time, she insisted that someone be there for moral support.
Really, Sarah was an emotional tornado. She could happy and chipper one minute, and given the right trigger, she could become all crazy and sad or angry the next.
Eddie had stayed for almost three minutes, and then left mumbling about hormonal, older sisters. Dan had endured everything for almost half an hour before shuffling out of the room, telling Sarah how sorry he was about how things turned out. Winry had stayed for almost two hours, rubbing Sarah's back and telling her about how unfair life was before leaving, giving examples of worse cases. Ed, on the other hand, was forced to stay. Almost literally. He was tied down to a chair by Sarah, who insisted he do it. He had obliged at first. But this angsting session was taking forever! Couldn't she just be over with it? I mean, come on, Robert Mustang wasn't that great. Right?
He wondered why Sarah had insisted he be there. And why she insisted that he be literally tied down to a chair. She knew that he wasn't as eloquent with words as Winry or Dan was, or as sensitive as them. He thought that maybe Sarah knew about his plan and kept him there as some form of punishment. No, torture. Well, if that was what Sarah had planned, mission accomplished. This was the worst moment in his life.
"Thought he really meant it!" Sarah continued to cry. "Thought that he really loved me! Lies! All lies!"
And she started to get into another fit of anger, but it passed in about six minutes, and she was going on about how much she was sad and blue, boo-hoo, what can we do?
The door opened. Both Sarah and Ed looked up to see who it was. Ed smiled in relief, but Sarah still remained wet-eyed and depressed.
It was Al. Of course it was him! Who else could it be?
"Hey, Sarah. Hey, Ed. I heard from Dan that you guys were having trouble," Al said. "So I came over to help."
"Al! Thank God! Untie me!" Ed yelled, kicking his feet, and struggling with the ropes.
Al stared at Ed. "Brother? Um, why are you tied up?"
"Long story. Just untie me!"
Al didn't question Ed. He knew him better than to probe more than necessary. Al strode over to his brother and quickly undid all the knots. All the time, he kept one eye on his explosive niece, sniffling on the bed and clutching onto a huge stuffed animal that resembled some kind of a rabbit.
When Ed was properly untied, Al sat down and turned to Sarah. "Okay. Tell me what's wrong."
"It's terrible, Uncle Alphonse," Sarah said, lowering her head down. "Rob. I thought that he loved me. He even told me so! But I found out that he was going out with someone else to the Winter Ball! Someone else! Can you believe it?"
"Oh. You're having those kind of problems," Al grimaced and then continued on in a sympathetic voice. "Going through your first heartbreak is always hurtful, especially when you're a teenager, especially when you were really into a committed relationship with the person."
Sarah buried her face in the her pillow. A muffled sob.
"You probably feel angry and betrayed, but you feel sad and depressed at the same time. You feel mad at him, but at the same time you feel like someone's stabbed your heart. You wonder what you did wrong, even though you didn't do anything wrong," Al nodded his head.
Another muffled sob.
"It's all right. A lot of people go through it. It's almost a natural part of life." Al's voice turned from a little sad and very sympathetic to more mature and explanatory.
And yet another muffled sob.
"Did you talk to Rob about it?"
No muffled sob this time. Instead, Sarah looked up from her pillow, her eyes still red and wet, and said reluctantly, "No. Not really."
"Well, do it. Get his side of the story first. Sometimes, things don't turn out to be the way you think they are. Maybe he accidentally got into a date with this girl. Maybe she's just a friend he's being nice to. Maybe Roy is forcing him to."
When Al had said that last part, he noticed that Ed gave a little wince. Al knew immediately that Ed was hiding something from him, and he had every intention of forcing it out of Brother later, when Sarah wasn't around. Knowing Brother, he was up to no good. Really, Brother could be so irrational about some things sometimes.
"All right," Sarah sighed. "I guess I can talk to him."
And then she bounced out of the bed for the first time since yesterday, and then went downstairs for dinner as if she hadn't had a huge sobbing episode.
Ed wondered why Al had this ability and not him.
"So, Brother, what are you up to now?" Al asked, suddenly turning on Ed.
Ed tried to put up an innocent and slightly confused and offended look, but it made him look more like he was somewhere in between in depressed and suicidal. "What are you talking about, Al?"
"Come on, Brother. I know you. I'm asking you a question. What are you up to?"
Ed still had the same depressed/suicidal expression of his face.
"I know that it involves Roy, Rob, and Sarah somehow."
Ed relented. "All right, fine. I'll tell you, but you have to promise, no wait…you have to swear not to tell anyone, especially not Sarah and Winry."
"I make no promises," Al replied.
"Fine! Then I won't tell you!"
"Fine! Then I swear not to tell!" Al was exasperated. Brother was acting so childishly!
"Okay. Fine," Ed leaned over to Al and told him. "You see, Roy and I are a little annoyed that Sarah and Rob are seeing each other, right? Well, we decided to do something about it."
"Oh no, Brother!" Al groaned. "You're an interfering busybody! Why can't you just accept the fact that Rob and Sarah like each other and just move on?"
"Because I can't! You should care, too! Sarah is your niece! How do you feel about her having a relationship with Rob, doing inappropriate things with him!"
There was a short silence, then Al began laughing.
"That's the reason! Ha ha ha ha ha! Brother, you're worried about Sarah doing inappropriate things with Rob? Oh, Brother, that's rich! I never expected you to be one of those dads!"
"Shut up, Al!" Ed snapped, blushing bright red. "And you have to admit, it's not just possible, it's probable! Those two are just teenagers, and they're both getting into their first really committed relationship! Who knows what they might do at the heat of the moment? When we were their age, were we much different? Let me tell you, no we were not! Winry got pregnant with Sarah when she was just seventeen, Al. Seventeen! And Sarah is sixteen, and Rob is eighteen! Let me tell you, I don't want to be a grandfather at age thirty-three!"
"You are paranoid, Brother," Al said, rolling his eyes.
And that was the end of that.
Or so it seemed.
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
"So, what are you doing so far from home?" the man asked the girl.
The girl, Suhyeon, smiled. "Ah, I've come to visit my auntie and my cousin."
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Just a little AN:
I named Suhyeon after one of my sisters. I was looking for Asian sounding names, and I thought that I might as well just pick a family member. Ha, she doesn't even know.
