Summary: At the right angle, in a line of sight, one might wonder why he never stopped staring at her for so much as a second.

Theme: 068. Song

Dedication: Ewa Snow, thank you!

Disclaimer: If I owned Full Metal Alchemist, it would have two hundred more glowsticks.

Angles

068. Song

Not until the cicadas stop singing.

This is what Hawkeye – Riza, Riza strong and tired and beautiful Riza, he corrects himself – tells him when he asks when she will leave him. He would not have minded the shivering in the rain if it meant she was there. He would not have minded her confident pull on his jacket as long as it meant she was taking him somewhere with her. He would not have minded her quivering lips when she said this; if it were not for the season they were in. It was winter, and cicadas never lasted more than a day anyway. The cold did not help the situation.

It is only when they are standing at the edge of a bridge, her somewhere watching and waiting for opportunity, that he questions this. It is cold, and the peeling paint of the wooden crossing is red and stark in comparison with the blankness surrounding him and all he can hear is crunching but not from the powder beneath his feet. In autumn nobody swept the tiny crippled bodies away of the bright green bugs, and the whiteness is shallow. Even something delicate cannot bleach the death of the tiniest creature, and he briefly wonders if it will be the same with him when he dies. But he soon reprimands himself. She would never let him die; let alone let his body lay motionless and abused; a crumpled heap amongst other broken boys with the same black staring eyes she told him he had.

Then there is the buzzing song sounding out. Some cicadas, he knows, bury themselves underground and only emerge for a day. Long enough for him to marvel at their delicate shades like their golden sheen under the sun and their transparent wings that were so easy to tear off, and then just like their prettiness meant nothing they would die. He looks to where he hears it, and the sound stops as a pale hand darts out and smears the blood of the creature across the muddy ground. He looks at her, her lips are pulled tight and the gun slung over her shoulder is cold steel under his gaze. Then there is bone-shattering silence, and he figures out how it feels to be alone.

"These things emerge only to die." She whispers, and edges away slightly. She is only a child at war; and he hopes that one day he will forget everything. He wants to forget the memory of every time she forgot status and used his name, he wants to lose her phone number and maybe somewhere along the lines the way that when she was eight he gave her a reason to be. He smiles faintly, wondering if she will remember his last words. Wondering how long it will take for her to forget just like he just guesses he wants to one day.

When he sees her again it is the next autumn, and the cicadas are emerging and the war is over. When he sees her wide eyes as she walks into the box of an office where they locked away their prize jewel; she says nothing. But he wants her to understand that he is only human; and she scares him breathless. He wants her to feel how his heartbeat is feverish and rapping against his ribcage on the inside because he is worried. He wants her to believe him.

"You know, one day; cicadas will evolve. So they will never stop singing, and they can love for more than just a day." He tells her. It is not a hello, or a goodbye; but in some languages he hears they use the same word for both of these and so it does not really matter anyway. This is the moment he expects her to turn away, and he smiles at this because maybe this way the silly little girl he fell in love with will keep breathing.

"Nothing lasts forever." She replies almost definitely, her characteristic sharpness slipping into her words. He does not tell her that he feels claustrophobic when she talks like that, or that he wants to find her fingers again one day, or that she is the most innocently wonderful person he has ever met and it makes her irresistible. Or maybe, he thinks, that she is too much of a realist; and he wants to tell her that you need dreams to take flight to begin with. He answers without much conviction with silence and a few words in mind but he hopes she understands.

But some things, he does not say, are always unforgettable.

This is very subtle and I suppose it might be confusing for some. But for some reason, I actually do not dislike it. It just works to me.

Preview: She always knew just the right way to make him smile.

Reviews are loved. :)