Disclaimer: FMA belongs to Arakawa Hiromu
Four: Grave
It was one of those days; Colonel Mustang had become quiet again. Not sad – to outward appearances, at least – but pensive, as though some thought was pestering him. Hawkeye watched him questioningly, waiting for him to return from his reverie. After some time he looked up, catching her gaze. They exchanged glances, he taking on her curious expression, and she adopting his thoughtful frown.
"Something bothering you, sir?"
"Hmm?"
She tilted her head to one side. "You've been in a daze all morning."
"I . . ." He paused, tight-lipped, looking at the doorway his other subordinates might come trooping back through any minute now. "Just realising that the only things I remember of my parents are their graves."