It was getting late at camp a few nights later and Riza was still up. Although it was nearly midnight most people were still up: drinking, playing cards, laughing and having a good time in general. Thanks to many of the state alchemists, but mostly to Major Kimbley, the tide of the war had turned. Amestris was now on the offensive and had inflicted some heavy damage to the Ishvalans. People were still talking about Kimbley's victory on the battlefield, who was off in the corner sharing a celebratory bottle of wine with Major McDougal, one of the only other state alchemists he seemed to be able to get along with.
Everyone was celebrating, in fact, except for Riza. It was late and Colonel Mustang should have been here by now.
On his way out of the room, Major Armstrong stopped and patted Riza on the shoulder so hard it almost knocked her over. "Don't worry, Miss Hawkeye, I'm sure that he will be back soon. It's probably just the storm that's keeping them out."
"I hope you're right, Major Armstrong."
Looking past her shoulder, Armstrong suddenly smiled. "Well, speak of the devil!"
Riza turned around quickly, and could have nearly jumped for joy, seeing Roy there, soaking wet but completely unharmed.
"Colonel! I was worried something had happened…"
His smile was a weary thing, heavy from exhaustion that was trying to pull the corners down. "You shouldn't have worried. I just lost my flashlight and I wasn't able to light a new torch in the rain."
"Here Colonel let me take your coat."
He thanked her and she heard him chatting with Armstrong before the big man said he was off to bed.
When the two of them were finally alone, Roy stepped closer to Riza and pulled something out of his jacket pocket to give to her.
Riza smiled, knowing before she looked down what it was. "You shouldn't have Roy."
"It's nothing." He handed the red flower to her, which she took gently, holding the petals delicately with her fingers. Weeks before, they had all been sitting around after a battle. The smoke was still rising from the burnt buildings and the smell of sweat and blood was still in the air. Riza walked over to a pile of bodies, where red flowers were just starting to poke above the ground. She reached down and plucked one up, staring at it for a moment before putting it into her pocket. "What is that?" Roy had asked, when she made her way back to where he stood with the other alchemists. "A flower. It only grows in Ishval. There is so little water here in the desert, these flowers are known to sprout up out of the dirt just minutes after water is poured on the ground."
"I guess blood is mostly water, huh?" Roy said, a note of sorrow making its way into his voice.
Riza didn't reply. For a few moments they said nothing. "How did you know, about the flowers?" Roy finally asked.
"Father. He loved to study; plants were no exception." Roy couldn't help but smile at the note of pride in her voice. Her father had been a man Roy had greatly admired.
"Come on, Riza, we have to get back."
"Yes, you're right." But she hadn't dropped the flower, she tucked it into her pocket. "You're going to take that with you?" He asked.
"Yes. I like to remember that there's beauty even in death, hope even in sorrow."
Roy nodded. Ever since that day, he had brought her the flowers any time he found them.
"Is something wrong? You don't seem happy."
"It's just that every time you give me one of these, I'm reminded that you were in danger."
"Well you shouldn't. Worry, I mean. All of us are in danger. From the Ishvalans or from ourselves."
Riza nodded."Yes, sir."
If any of the soldiers thought it was strange that the two alchemists avoided one another so carefully, they didn't say anything, at least not around the two state alchemists. When the thought crossed Roy's mind, he guessed that his men probably knew him well enough now to know that Major Kimbley wasn't his favorite person.
Many of them knew the man's reputation by now. They had heard the stories about his no-qualms love of violence and destruction, and a few had even had friends under Kimbley's command and who had told about how strict and unyielding he was. So none of them argued when Kimbley said he was taking a few of them and he wanted to look around the city some more and search for any surviving Ishvalans.
Meanwhile, Roy and the rest of his men tried to set up a safe camp in the abandoned town hall; the only building big enough in the village for all of them to stay in.
Hours later it was dark, but most of the men were unable to sleep, afraid to in this recent warzone.
"Ghosts." Said a young soldier over the fire they had built in the central room from abandoned furniture.
Roy turned to the boy. "What was that, soldier?" Superstitious fears were one of the few things not tolerated in Colonel Mustang's troops.
To Roy's surprise more than anyone else's, the boy didn't back down. He met his gaze evenly over the flickering flames that Roy had lit for them all.
"Ghosts, sir. It's bad luck for us to be staying here, so soon after the battle. There's an old Ishvalan tale, "Make your camp in your enemies blood/ Not yet freshly dried/ Become a ghost yourself you will/amongst those here that have died."
"That's nice poem, soldier, but you know as well as I do that Ishvalan myths don't affect men from Amestris." He tried to make his voice a bit lighter, but Roy was afraid the boy saw his involuntary shudder.
At that moment the ground shook so hard anyone who was standing up fell to the ground. Cups shattered and torches fell off the walls, casting shaky shadows on the horrified faces of Roy and his men.
"What was that?" Roy thought to himself
"Sir!" The guards at the doorways had let in a breathless soldier-one of the men that had gone to patrol the grounds with Kimbley.
"What is it soldier?!" Roy demanded, trying to keep his balance on the still shaky ground.
"It's the Ishvalans sir! Scores of them, come to attack the city! They ambushed us but luckily Kimbley was able to hold them off for a bit with an explosion. He sent me ahead to tell you and the others. They are coming as fast as they can to fall back to this location. We need to get ready for battle."
Roy nodded his head. "You men heard him! Get ready to fight; we are under attack. After Kimbley and the others come in get ready to secure those doors. Grab all of your weapons, I want every able bodied men at every window and opening in this building!"
….
It'll never wash off. Riza thought. Never.
Outside of the main camp building she tried as hard as she could to scrub the red off of her shoes with the water from the spout. In the early morning light the blood looked black on her boots.
It'll never, ever wash off she couldn't stop thinking.
The spout was rusty and creaky as she tried to quickly shut it off once her shoes were as clean as they could possibly be. Water was scarce in Ishval. The people they were fighting this war against would probably never use water for something as trivial as scrubbing off their boots.
I'll try to remember that, she thought to herself and conserve this water. Starting right now I won't take anything else for granted. She nodded to herself and turned off the waterspout.
A split second later, someone's hand reached past her, turning the water not just back on but to full blast.
She stepped aside and tried to hide the look of disgust on her face as Major Kimbley stuck his shoes underneath and let the water pour over them, washing away the dirt and blood off of the shiny black surface.
He looked down from his shoes and up to her face, smiling at her. "Morning, Miss Sharpshooter."
"Good morning, Major."
He pointed down to her still-dirty shoes. "It doesn't look like you've finished cleaning your boots off yet. Do you still need this?" He said, gesturing to the water that he had left spouting onto the ground.
"No." She said, reaching down to turn it off quickly.
He raised an eyebrow at her, which she tried to ignore, but he caught her elbow as she started to walk away.
"You can't go in there with that dirt all over your shoes. The officers will be angry."
"I don't care. I don't want to waste water for something as stupid as that. Since the war and the drought people have been going thirsty all over this country. I won't do it anymore."
The sound of his tongue clicking broke the silence, and when she looked up he was shaking his head back and forth in what seemed like pity. "Not people, miss Hawkeye. Enemies. Our enemies. Yours and mine and everyone else's here."
"They aren't my enemies, major. They are just people, some of them innocent, who I've been told to kill. Nothing more."
He shrugged. "Same thing."
She turned away from him. "You're sick."
"Why? Because I see things for what they are? Because I don't try to act self-righteous like the others? Like Mustang?"
At the mention of Roy, Riza glared at Kimbley, her hand twitching towards her gun.
Kimbley didn't miss the gesture.
"Oh, that's right. No one says anything unpleasant about Mustang in your presence. Wherever he is, you're always somewhere close behind. Wherever he is you follow. Always there to watch him and protect him with those sharp eyes and quick trigger fingers. What a waste."
"I'm just doing my job, major."
"Of course you are. He doesn't deserve it, you know."
This time she met him square in the eye. "If anyone does, it's him." She said evenly but firmly, and he was the first one to look away. "Just forget about, I'll go in and speak to the officers another day." She turned away from the building and started making her way back to the field.
Kimbley stood and watcher her go. "Suit yourself. But, Miss Hawkeye?"
She stopped, but didn't turn as she waited for him to speak.
"Everyone is the enemy."
…
Riza stood next to Hughes the next morning as she and the other troops waited in line for their officer to come out. Roy had been called into some meeting early this morning and still hadn't emerged. Riza wanted to know where the fighting was going to be, so that she could go out ahead before the others and pick off any Ishvalan stragglers who might be lying in ambush for them.
When Roy did come back he smiled at his men who greeted him eagerly, but Riza knew Roy well enough to know when something was bothering him.
Roy strolled over to Hughes and Riza when he had given his men their orders. Hughes slapped him on the back and exchanged a few words before going off to his own regiment. When they were finally alone, Riza turned to Roy.
"Is something the matter, Colonel?"
A grim smile spread slowly across his face. "How did you know, Lieutenant?"
Riza didn't answer, instead waiting for him to speak.
"You won't be working for my regiment any more. I'm sorry. Another officer has requested that you would be needed more for his missions."
A million questions popped into Riza's head, but she could only manage to croak one out. "What officer?!"
Roy turned and pointed across the square, to where Major Kimbley was standing, hands in his pockets, with the rest of his own men. He smiled at her when she met his eyes. Quickly she turned her head back to Roy.
"He can't just have me reassigned like that."
"He got one of the uppers to do it. He must have some important jobs planned, because lately they've been doing pretty much whatever he wants."
"I see." Riza said quietly.
"It'll be OK, Ltd. We'll still see each other all the time. We'll just be working apart now."
"Of course, Colonel. I'm fine, really." Riza said, but she sounded anything other fine. She glanced back across the square, where Kimbley was standing. Slowly, he took one hand out of his pocket, and motioned her over.
"Looks like I have to go." She said.
"I'll see you around, then." He said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Of course."
She could feel both Roy and Kimbley's eyes on her as she made her way to her new superior officer. As she stood in front of him, she unslung her gun from her shoulder.
"Orders, sir."
"No small talk or thanks at all?"
"I'm not going to thank you for making me transfer to another regiment for completely unnecessary reasons." She said, then, remembering that she was now talking to her superior officer, added a grudging, "Sir."
"Suit yourself then." He motioned for the rest of his men to start moving, and then made his way in step to the side of them. Riza, not knowing what else to do, fell in step beside him.
"You're wrong, though. My reasons aren't unnecessary. I, or should I say we, have important work to do, and I need the best sniper we have much more than Colonel Mustang does."
"So where are we going?"
All the time he had been walking his eyes had been moving over his troops and into the distance ahead of them, but now they slid down to where Riza walked beside him.
"To battle."