Chapter Twenty-two: Study Break

Life was easy in Central. The hustle-and-bustle of the streets had become less overwhelming, and Riza began to know her way around town. She found that she was now confident enough to roam the streets without Roy's company, and she embraced this sense of independence. On nights when Aunt Chris and the girls were busy working, and Roy had thrown himself back at his studies, she was more than capable of making a trip to the corner store or a nearby restaurant to pick up some food for them.

She could tell that Roy was starting to get antsy about their extended stay. He was a hard worker, but she'd only known him to do his tasks from time to time, a bit here and there. Lately, he'd become engrossed in his textbooks. Not that she could blame him. It wouldn't be in his best interest if they returned to Giribaz and he had forgotten most of what he had learned.

It was a shame. Coming to Central was a break from the monotony, from the constant waiting for something to go wrong. She didn't feel like she needed to tiptoe down the stairs for a glass of water, and she certainly didn't feel like she was being watched. Roy, however, had let his hyperalert paranoia get the better of him after about a week. He didn't have to tell Riza what was going on. For the two of them, Berthold's outbursts and unorthodox methods of punishment were so standardized that they could easily predict his reactions. It seemed that Roy had come to the conclusion that, upon their return, his wellbeing, and possibly her own, hinged on his alchemic progress.

Riza lifted her right thumb to her mouth, nipping at her cuticle. She tasted blood and quickly withdrew her finger, tucking her thumb into the palm of her hand. She covered it with her other fingers, hiding it from herself. Such a bad habit, she scolded herself.

Her feet carried her down the sidewalk as the streetlights flickered on around her. It was then that she noticed the fuchsia hue of the sky. She needed to hurry if she wanted to be home before dark. She quickened her pace as she neared the corner store. The bell jingled overhead as she slipped through the glass door. Unlike back home, she never seemed to be the only person at the store. Tonight, she counted four other patrons. The small market felt cramped. Riza steeled herself and wove her way through the aisles, making a beeline for the prepared meals in one of the few refrigeration units.

The overlap between what was healthy and what Roy would eat was incredibly slim. Whatever she got him, it had to be appetizing enough that he would take a break from his studies. Otherwise, he'd nibble at his meal for about ten minutes as he read before forgetting it altogether. It didn't help that, when she asked what he wanted, all she got was a noncommittal grunt.

She exhaled sharply through her nose. If he didn't want to cooperate, she was at least going to try to give him something remotely nutritious.

The sandwiches wrapped in plastic gave way too easily to her fingers, and she set it back on the shelf with a grimace. The lettuce in the salads was wilted. The containers of soup were unappetizing at best. Even she couldn't bring herself to buy the food. She stuck her hands in her pockets and wandered back onto the street.

A delicious scent caught her attention, and her stomach growled in response. She followed her nose down the next block, arriving at a wooden cart tucked in between the sidewalk and the opening of an alley. An old woman tended the stand, busily stirring a pot as she hummed to herself. Riza realized that the woman didn't see or hear her, and she sheepishly coughed into her hand.

The old woman merely smiled at her before gesturing to the cart in front of her.

"What is it?" Riza asked, standing on her toes to get a better look.

She was answered in a language she had never heard before.

The pot seemed to contain a thin broth with herbs, intermixed with slices of what appeared to be beef. It seemed harmless enough. Riza lifted her hand, showing the woman her index and middle fingers. "Two, please," she said in Amestrian, although she didn't know why.

The woman ducked down behind the cart, mumbling to herself as she rummaged around in the compartment. When she reappeared holding two containers of thick rice noodles. These were set down on top of the cart, and two more containers were produced. With a deft hand, surprising for her age, she measured out the broth evenly. Riza watched in wonder as the woman's aged fingers tied the containers inside of an ornate cloth in such a way that it had a handle.

Riza pulled several cens out of her pocket, unsure of the price. Wordlessly, the woman took only what she needed and slid some change across the cart, gesturing with the back of her hand. Riza took the coins before bowing her head, attempting to thank her.

Cautiously, Riza took the cloth handle, lifting the package slowly at first to test its reliability. To her surprise, the contents were safely secured. With a smile on her face, she waved at the old woman before returning the way she came.

By the time she slipped through the back door of the bar, the moon had risen above the buildings. She rummaged around in the kitchen for silverware, grabbing two complete sets. Her feet took her upstairs two steps at a time, and she knocked on Roy's open door.

Her companion sat on the floor, surrounded by a semi-circle of open books and sheets of paper. He drummed his pen against his cheek, lost in thought. The smell caught his attention before she knocked, and he turned attentively in her direction.

Riza couldn't help but laugh. His cheek was speckled with black ink. The end of his pen was gnawed and broken from his stress habit. With delight, she informed him, "You've got some…" as she tapped her own cheek.

Roy wiped at the side of his face, smearing the liquid down to his jaw. His fingers came away stained. "Oh, son of a -." Careful not to touch anything with his left hand, he stood up and lunged over his paper-filled moat. Riza set the package down on the desk he never used and followed him to the bathroom. His head was bent over the sink, and he was scrubbing his face with hand soap. She handed him a washcloth when he turned off the faucet.

"Come on. You're taking a break," she insisted, ushering him back down the hallway. Roy complied and took a seat back on the floor, this time away from his work. Riza sat down across from him and untied the package, setting the containers between them.

"What is this?" Roy asked as he opened a container of broth.

"I don't know."

"You don't know? How do we eat it?"

"No idea," Riza admitted as she passed him his silverware. "We've gotta figure that one out."

Roy was silent for a moment before asking "Where the hell did you even go?"

"Shut up and eat."