I don't own Fma or DN

Chapter 4

Roy Mustang was most decidedly not a morning person.

He had reached this conclusion early on in his life, and embraced it. Really, why even bother at such an early hour? There was nothing Roy needed to do so early.

But now it was different. Now Roy was a soldier in the military. Well, cadet, but that wasn't the point! The point was now he had purpose. Now he could put his training in alchemy into protecting the people.

And Roy wouldn't let any hurdle trip him, any obstacle stop him, any foe dissuade him.

But getting up so early truly punished someone who was used to letting himself sleep in. He honestly, groggily stared at the blue uniform hanging from his peg and wondered.

Could he really do this? Could he trump any foe he came across?

Then in the seconds Roy had rode this train of thought, he remembered who he was. He was Roy Mustang, damn it! And nothing as pathetic as military waking hours would stop him!

If only his mind could pass the message to his sleep riddled body. He tried to pull himself from his bed but found his limbs almost magnetically attached to the sheets, his dark hair ruffled further as he squirmed. Roy sighed.

Someone was poking him in the ribs. "Hey, you need to wake up, buddy. Drill Sergeant says if you don't want to get kicked you need to get up. And I really wouldn't want to be you right now pal."

"Ughh." Roy groaned at his helper. "Nooooo."

"Alright buddy." The other cadet gripped his limp elbow and pulled him from his top bunk, very slowly. "Urk, hey L, give me a hand here."

Roy heard a snicker not too far away. "Well, if he wants to get kicked, then who am I to interject?" He got the distinct impression that person had folded his arms and surveyed him in silent amusement.

The man tugged at Roy's shoulder a little more than necessary and suddenly Roy was weightless as he plummeted to the ground before reaching face first with a heavy thump.

"Ouch." Roy stood and rubbed the growing bruise on his forehead. "Er, well thanks, I suppose for…helping me." Roy muttered as he avoided eye contact with the excessively cheerful man.

"No problem. Name's Maes Hughes, and the lazy guy is L Lawliet." He stuck out a hand. Ignoring L's mutter of resentment.

"Roy Mustang."

"As incredibly fascinating as this is, it's probably best you hurry it up, Roy." L commented as he stood from his crouched position and stretched.

"Ah, well thanks." Roy turned and pulled his uniform off its peg before rapidly changing as fast as he could. "So, why did you help me out?"

Hughes laughed. "Hey, we're all friends here, aren't we?"

L and Roy exchanged a glance. L shrugged.

"Sure, let's go with that." Roy pulled his left boot on. "I wish you two would stop keeping me waiting." He smirked and jogged ahead.

Hughes gaped before chuckling and jogging after him. L sighed and joined the others in running down the corridor.

Training Camp

Each day was similar until Roy managed to get up on time. Granted, it took a month, but still, Hughes cheered and L offered him a strawberry from a cake that Roy had no idea how L managed to keep getting hold of. Roy graciously accepted.

From there, their training continued regularly, in the mandatory rifle training, L decided he would specialise in that. Shoot from afar while coordinating other soldiers, it sounded very familiar to L and combined with his understanding of ballistics and weaponry, he naturally picked up quite a talent for it. Previous lessons from Watari on shooting were especially useful.

Roy flocked to the opportunity to show off and proudly displayed his flame alchemy, preening like a peacock with his powerful alchemy. L didn't doubt Roy would follow his goal of becoming a state alchemist.

L saw the fire in Roy's eyes. He knew Roy was serious about his ideals. A man for the people, someone who could lead. Someone who could be Fuhrer.

Hughes had agreed silently, grinning at Roy's determination taking form in his alchemy. In pre-assignment tests, L and Hughes had innate aptitude for tests in becoming intelligence officers. Roy had passed his test to become a state alchemist with ease belying his years.

They became quite a skilled team, L with his rifle, Hughes with his odd skill with a peculiar pair of push knifes and Roy with his flames that honoured his moniker of The Flame Alchemist.

Months came and went as L learned the lingo of Amestrian military, all the focal points on the map, every battle Amestris had waged, for there were many.

The day of graduation approached as an announcement was held in place of the usual morning exercise. The gruff instruction began with a cough. "All of you have entered this camp as children, and you will leave as soldiers. You have worked hard for your achievements and followed the expectations we have held for you all. I am proud to say you can wear your uniform with pride. All of you have become exceptional soldiers, but I know there are those among you who will go on to do great things"

Hughes elbowed Roy and grinned which Roy returned with a more subdued smile while L sighed to himself lightly.

"As a reward for your skills, you will all be given the opportunity to show your talents. In a week, Fuhrer Bradley himself will come from central command to appraise your skills." The instructor paused as the cadets whispered amongst themselves in glee. "So, all of you prepare yourselves, this could be the difference between promotion, and desk duty."

Day of Graduation

King Bradley's arrival was as royal as one should expect, L thought the splendid car almost required a fanfare of trumpets to accommodate the regal atmosphere it produced.

The cadets were lined up in rows, locked in salutes as Bradley left the car. From what L could ascertain, Bradley was a muscular man in his mid-50, a sword hung from his belt naturally as if he had been born with it. A black eyepatch hung over one of his eyes.

At first glance he appeared benevolent, waving and smiling at the rows of awed cadets spectating his approach. But L knew appearances were deceiving, he knew one did not become a dictator without cold steel lining their bones.

L would have to watch and wait.

As King Bradley approached the podium that had been placed before the gathered soldiers to be. Bradley stood at a raised height above them, symbolic of his position. "My greetings and congratulations to all of you. You have done well to reach this point, be proud of your selves. I expect the best from everyone present. Show me why you deserve to fight for Amestris." Applause followed Bradley's descent from the stage to a viewing tent.

L noticed Roy and Hughes enthusiastic clapping was far louder than his own slow clap. Obviously, they were enthralled by the fatherly charisma and awe of their peers. They couldn't see the steel below the softness. L clicked his tongue. That could be a problem if left unattended, if ever Bradley needed overthrowing. L wouldn't take the risk, not when it came to his new friends.

The Rifle Range

After Roy had displayed his alchemy and had been personally addressed by the man he unconsciously idolised, Hughes had beaten the other cadets in close combat with his trusty push knives in the melee.

And now it was L's turn. A dozen cadets, including L himself, brandished a rifle and lay prone in a line along a range. At a meagre distance from their position a target shaped like a body stood.

L spotted Roy sitting in the stands, watching expectantly with his almost trademark cocky smirk. Hughes cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled encouragement until he was politely told to shut the hell up and stop disrupting the shooters, much to his embarrassment.

Across from the stands, King Bradley sat, monocular in hand, watching the cadets intently. L's gaze snapped back to the range when Bradley's gaze shifted to him.

"Riflemen ready?" At each nod the announcer stepped to the side. "Begin!" L immediately pushed the rifle close to his cheek, following the sight along the barrel, conditions meant nothing in such close range and L fired, the kickback dulled slightly.

L's shot was the first to be fired and looking back on it, his shot had directly pierced the targets pseudo forehead. Roy and Hughes clapped supportively. L tilted his scope so that the reflection allowed him to view Bradley unnoticed.

It appeared Bradley had taken an interest in L's speed and accuracy. Good. Exactly what he wanted.

L couldn't help but notice his plans went from buying as much coffee as possible, to planning out a potential coup. Oh well, it never hurt to be prepared and the coffee was not forgotten.

Those who had panicked and missed their shots left the range as the remaining ten prepared as the targets were moved further back.

This elimination continued until the targets were tiny to the human eye and only L and another cadet, who was at this point, sweating profusely.

L watched as the other recruit took his shot too early as the winds changed slightly once again, and then sighed at his loss but admitted defeat.

All eyes were on L now, he had yet to take his shot. Bradley watched with increased interest as this unbecoming, dishevelled recruit smashed records with seeming ease. Hughes nearly went mad as he chewed his nails, Roy leaned forward and narrowed his eyes, déjà vu filling his thoughts of a certain blonde sniper.

L pressed the stock closer to his body, peered through the scope, and felt the wind rustle through his jet-black hair. He held his breath as his senses tingled, felt the wet mud against his blue uniform, felt the cool metal scope against his brow, heard his heartbeat beat like a ritualistic drum.

L closed his eyes. Estimated the distance, time, bullet speed, bullet drop, equations flew through his head faster than light and his finger closed on the cold trigger.

All in four seconds.

The rifle kicked as the gunpowder ignited and the bullet imbedded itself in the targets forehead once again. The barrel drooled smoke and the mechanism clicked.

"Hit!" The announcer confirmed. Hughes burst to his feet and cheered with many others in the stand. Roy leaned back and smirked even wider, casually discussing his supposed lack of doubt.

L stood and met Bradley's solemn gaze as the Fuhrer slowly clapped, getting to his feet with the rifle tucked under his arm.

Bradley stood. "My congratulations to the winner of the rifle competition, L Lawliet." His solemn look disappeared and his gentle smile returned.

As L left to return to Hughes and Roy, a soldier grabbed his elbow. "Fuhrer Bradley would like a word with you, Lawliet."

L raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" It made sense. That was a damn good shot. "Very well, lead the way." L conceded.

Bradley's tent

L's escort left at the entrance to the tent. "Go on in." The escort nudged him to the door flaps.

L took a deep breath and took his hands from his pockets. He entered the tent. Bradley was sat in a chair before a low coffee table and a matching chair.

L saluted carefully. "Sir."

Bradley looked up and smiled with closed eyes. "Ah, cadet Lawliet. Just the young man a wanted to see. Take a seat, son." L did and the Fuhrer pushed a cup of tea over to him. "I insist. Sugar?"

L reached over and grasped the bowl of sugar cubes. "If you don't mind."

"Not at all. So, that was some rather impressive shooting out there. I doubt even I could make that last shot."

"You flatter me sir."

"Indeed, indeed. It was incredible shot, you should be proud of yourself" Bradley sipped his own tea. "I've also heard you've shown exceptional aptitude for being an intelligence officer."

"So they say." L remarked dropping another sugar cube inside his cooling tea.

At that moment L's blood froze as King Bradley opened his eye and looked at him. It chilled him to his bones, that piercing, cunning stare.

He had not felt it for what felt like years but when he remembered it was all too soon.

Light Yagami. L knew where he'd seen those eyes. Those cold, dark eyes. So sinister, so powerful. King Bradley had the same eyes as the man who killed L. Who smirked as he watched his heart stop and his eyes glaze over.

He was not a man to be trifled with. But that wouldn't stop L.

And then it was gone as that benevolent smile returned. "Well then, Mr Lawliet, be sure to expect a promotion very soon. Now I'll let you get back to your friends." He leaned forwards. "Stay together. The three of you have great potential."

L saluted weakly. "Yes sir." And practically stumbled out the tent, abandoning the cup filled and overflowing with sugar, pocketing as many as he could without Bradley noticing.

L took a deep breath. He glanced around. "Oh, L, what have you gotten yourself into?"

End

Thanks for reading and tell me what you thought.

I was wondering if there should be a pairing for L, but I couldn't think of anyone who fits the bill, besides L is quite the loner. But there's also L's comments about Misa in the series to think about.

Btw, L is around Roy and Hughes' age in this story, timeline be damned.

So, leave any suggestions below.