39. Coronel (La Oreja de Van Gogh)
A/N: Takes place during Ishbal.
If the days were too chaotic, the nights were too still.
Most of the soldiers were asleep, but two, neither very long out of childhood, sat by a dying fire.
"This is pointless," Roy said suddenly as Riza tried to shush him. "Nobody's around to hear except you, and you know it's true. I didn't join the military so I could wage war; I joined to create peace."
"I don't like it either," Riza said quickly. "They don't deserve to be hunted like animals because of the color of their skin and eyes. They're just people, trying to survive like the rest of us. If I didn't know better…" She stopped to look around, then whispered so that Roy could barely hear, "It's too coincidental to be true. I wonder if the military started this war on purpose, but… why?"
The only thing that caught Roy by surprise was that Riza was suggesting such a thing when she so often played by the book. He sighed. "Glad to know I'm not the only one who thinks that."
Riza pulled her knees to her chest, looking younger than she already was. "I hate this. I hate killing—no, murdering— people who don't deserve it. I hate not being able to question it without being labeled a traitor. I hate this war." Though she was still whispering, her voice broke at the end, and tears began to well.
Roy scooted closer and put his arm around her. "This is the worst. The only thing anybody wants is for us to win. They don't care about how many lives it costs—how many widows and fatherless children are left behind, how many grieving families are torn apart. That's why I'm here, though. I don't want to have to send a KIA notice to another family. I don't want to see another innocent life taken. I want war to cease to exist, to just be a horrible nightmare."
Sighing, Riza reminded him, "But it won't be for us. It'll be a horrible reality. And we know all too well what happens to people who don't think it could happen to them."
"Not to mention they'd think I was a crazy old loon just lecturing." Roy looked angry. "It has no effect on people until they know just how bad it is. As much as I never want to see another war again, some people could do with a good dose of reality."
"Some nights, I feel something or hear something specific to someone who died recently." Riza looked like she might be sick. "They never got a chance to say good bye, and I drive myself crazy wondering how that must have tormented them in their last moments. I know it's not helpful at all, but…" She trailed off, not wanting to try to give an excuse.
"But war does that to a person, as only those who've been there can understand. I don't want to say it'll just fade with time, but I hope it does. You never wanted this for yourself. Let the ghosts of the past go haunt someone else." Roy tightened his grip around Riza's shoulders. "You've learned your lesson and then some."
Riza pushed Roy's hand away and stood. "I should go back. Rebecca waits up for me now. She's worried that I might go do something to myself. I just don't know who I can trust with backing you."
Roy shrugged. "That's your call." They were both silent for a moment. "I'm sorry, Riza." Roy pulled the younger woman close and buried his head in her shoulder, feeling torn and yet somehow very right as she gripped the back of his jacket. Here, when there was nobody watching, they could fall apart for a moment and just mourn what things had come to.
Riza pulled away first. "Really… I have… to go…" she gasped, wiping her eyes. "Rebecca will… at least make sure… I'm okay."
Roy nodded and went back to his tent, where Maes waited up for him. The older man looked at him sympathetically. "I was about to come and get you, but I saw… It's okay, Roy. I know that you understand each other. I'm worried for you, too, but I'm glad you can really bare your soul to someone else."
Mumbling something distinctly incoherent, Roy lay down on his cot.
Maes was a bit annoyed. I try to help, and this is the thanks I get. "I'm with you, too, Roy. You've got to realize that. I really think you'll make it. Nothing will ever be worth the cost of lives lost here. Nobody will be able to tell us why. But you're going to try to repair it in any way you can, and that's what counts. You've got me, Roy. And you've got her."
There was silence for a moment, then a rustle as Roy turned to face Maes.
"Thank you."
A/N: Aaaaannnnnnddd… we're back to the depression. It was hard for me not to cry as I translated the lyrics. The song pretty much follows the story, but PM me if you don't understand Spanish and want my slap-dash translation so that you can understand better.
This didn't turn out as well as I'd intended, and I'll probably come back to edit it later, but I liked the idea.