Unlike most in the military I don't take my lunch break in town. I eat something small, simple, and quick at my desk so I can just hurry up and get it over with. I had forgotten my main reason not to go into town right up until I had let Hawkeye, who now insisted I call her Riza since we weren't working closely together anymore, convince me to eat with her at some cafe close to Central Command.

As we walked along in our blue military uniforms I was starting to remember why I didn't leave base except to go home, and why I only left home when I was absolutely out of all forms of food I could possibly survive on. The reason I hate town is because people live there. I'm not afraid I'll get hurt, I have alchemy and a fucking gun, not to mention going out with Riza is equally as secure as if I were with the Secret Service. No, what I don't like is when people try to talk to me. I try to be nice, but I'd become more and more of an introvert as time went on. The longer I went gathering more stuff into my impossible memory the more difficult it became to be around people. When I see them, I add them to a scrapbook in the library on the third floor depending on where I see them. If I see them enough they get their own page, or even book, like Elicia. Edward has a shelf of his own filled with books, Maes has three. So, excuse me for not wanting to have to risk a headache because of having to subconsciously organize that shit. I will ALWAYS know what Mr. Farrell from the bakery looks like mid-sneeze (not pretty, in case you were wondering). Not to mention fairly recently adding on trying to sort out an entirely new sense that is the Dragons pulse, and sort through what signature belongs to who. For most I toss it into a mass garbage bin, to be honest, it helps with the headache. That was probably going to bite me in the ass, but that was a Future-Me problem.

Also, it is literally possible for me to get lost in my own head. I can be kinda out of it at times. The chances of getting lost in my thoughts when out in town are smaller when I have a goal or something specific to focus on, like a mission, an errand, or even groceries. Just walking around with Riza is much more dangerous for my psyche, especially since she isn't the type to talk much when others can hear. It was getting better with practice, now that I was out from under my family's protective thumb and allowed to attempt said practice, but that didn't make it any less tedious or painful in the moment. It helped immensely that Riza's presence in the pulse was familiar enough that I could just latch metaphysically onto her.

It was infinitely easier once we got to the cafe and started talking. Not only was the awkward atmosphere mostly gone, but the risk of falling away from reality because some random person sparked a review of the initial memory I had of them was going down, and there was less 'new' stimuli to categorize. Riza seemed to like me a bit more now that I had proved myself capable of keeping Roy working while she was gone. I had noticed that she was going out to lunch more often, with several different people. I was just the latest on the list.

By the time we were halfway done with our food I had become twitchy, and she had noticed.

"Are you alright Stephanie? Have you been missing sleep again?"

I laughed, "Nah, I've been keeping that schedule with the watches. I'm just a bit antsy, I don't like going to public places much."

She raised a delicate eyebrow, "And why is that?"

"Because there are people there."

She laughed and I had to control myself to keep from gaping. She didn't do that much. When she stopped she still looked amused.

"Are you serious? That's why you don't go anywhere? You don't like to socialize?"

I scowled, "I'm fine with socializing, I'm talking to you aren't I?"

At her unimpressed look, I continued, grabbing a reason, if not the reason.

"I just don't like interacting with people my own age. They insist sometimes, but once they get to know me they turn one of three ways, vindictive, fearful, or pitying. I never was sure which I hated most."

"Why would they pity you?"

"That's the one you worry about? Not the fear? I could be a serial killer but nooo, you worry about why near-strangers pity me."

Another stony look forced me to answer for fear of retribution.

"Because most of the time they see my age and my rank and they think I'm 'playing soldier' or that I had to do some squicky shit to get where I am. Especially as a female soldier."

I was saved from my answer turning into a true ramble by a waitress showing up with our check. I tossed down enough money for both and the tip.

"I know I promised to walk around with you but my break's not as long as yours. I should head back. See ya later."

I walked swiftly out of the restaurant, not bothering to look back, knowing she wouldn't follow me. She knew I wouldn't answer any more questions today, and if shadow-guy was watching her like we theorized and determined that I was just some awkward kid...all the more advantage to me. I hurried toward Central Command, I still had quite a bit of time left for my break but I wanted to check in and see if anything new had arrived from Drachma. A few teenagers hanging out in an alleyway smoking cigarettes examined me as I walked by. Most were either my age or slightly older. The uniform is most likely what caught their attention, it usually is. I practically ran all the way back to base, bypassing checking on the Drachmans and slamming into the office.

I sank into my chair with a sigh of relief. At Mustang's questioning look, I just shook my head.

"Remind me to never go out again."

/

/

Sorry it's been a minute, good luck to everyone facing finals right around now, punch a STEM class for me. Or flip off a poem, I'm not picky.
As always, please let me know your thoughts.
~TimeLordOfPie