Author Note: This makes me sad. I was writing it after I finished my stats test yesterday and I guess I must have been in an angsty mood. Sorry it has been so long since I posted, but I started working on another story in my Spanish journal. All I can tell you is that it is Royai, and it is already 13 pages long. Here is theme 26: Cureless
Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. Do not ask again!
Warning: Character death and suicide. Don't get mad, I warned you.
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Death is cureless. Death is permanent. Yet as Roy stared at the gravestone, he could not help but think of tentative cures for death such as human transmutation. He shook his head, this would only end up with more heartbreak, and a single tear rolled down his grim face.
The grave in front of him read,
Riza Hawkeye
Friend, Soldier, Protector
She didn't have to die. If only he had been more aware or a little bit smarter. Riza was supposed to go to the top with him, not die half way there. It was his entire fault anyway.
They had been out at dinner, on their first date, when an assassin shot at them. She noticed before he did and jumped in the bullets path. With one snap of the fingers the attacker was dead, but so was she.
As he cried that evening, he fought the urge to attempt human transmutation.
It had been a month since then, and Roy stood at her gravestone, a gun in hand. After all, if he could not bring her back then he would have to join her.
"Riza," he said out loud, "It's ironic isn't it, that I'm following you instead of the other way around?"
He practically could hear her response that no, it was not ironic and that he should put that gun down because guns were dangerous. Roy laughed a humorless laugh.
A single shot rang out.
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End note: sniff sniff…
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