Roy had never given much thought about the idea of soulmates. Everyone had one, that much he knew, but the idea never seemed to be a pressing urge to discover who out there was his other half. His mind was too occupied by other things to worry about, like his dreams and goals. He didn't have the time to be worried about who his soulmate was. There were people out there who needed his help, and he couldn't be distracted from that.

Besides, his soulmate didn't appear to take too much stock in having a soulmate either. By the time he was fourteen, he could count the number of times that his soulmate had written something on their skin on one hand. As opposed to the other kids his age who had lost count in their toddler years.

For a while he had thought that he wasn't in possession of a soulmate. It was rare, but occasionally it did happen. His Aunt Chris was one of them. She told him that it was handy in her line of work. Not that she ever told him what it was. Roy was left to figure that out on his own.

He was around the age of twelve when his soulmate's writing first appeared on his skin. His arm had been feeling tingly for a while, and when he looked down at his arm he saw handwriting that was most definitely not his own. It was curled in a way that his own chicken-scratch handwriting would never be able to replicate in a thousand years. And despite the fact it was business hours downstairs, Roy ran down to his Aunt in the bar to show her.

Roy hadn't cared what it said, nor what it actually meant for him in the long run. All he cared about was that he wasn't as much of an outsider among his peers now. Of course he would remain an outsider due to his foreign heritage, but now he had one less thing for his peers to throw in his face.

For a pre-teenage boy, that mattered more than having the actual soulmate.

After that, there were few moments where Roy would spend thinking about what his other half was doing. He was far too busy doing other things. Like schoolwork. And when he'd finished his schooling and moved on to become an apprentice, his attention similarly shifted to the alchemy that he was learning. And assisting his master's daughter around the house.

There had been something about the shy blonde ghost that would draw Roy's attention. He could never figure out if it was it the way she moved through the house near silently, or the fact she barely said more than a sentence any time his studying had taken a pause and he sought ways to procrastinate from going back to it. She would politely remind him about what he was there for, and Roy would be forced back to his learning. But somehow he would find his way back to her.

But life went on and he moved on from his alchemy master's home to the military academy. He trained physically and mentally, often ending the day too tired to think about anything other than landing in his cot and sleeping off the whole day. Only to wake up and do it all over again in the morning.

His days off consisted of him somehow finding himself in trouble and being punished for it.

Which was how he spent his most recent day off.

He'd gotten into a fight earlier in the week with some upperclassmen, who had been unfairly bullying one of his classmates who didn't have the fortune of having a soulmate, and had been forced to spend his Saturday morning reorganizing files and other paperwork in the hottest, driest building on the compound. By the time he was finished with his punishment, he was coated from head to toe in a fine layer of sweat. He got no relief after he was finished either. Roy had walked outside and was surrounded by temperatures that exceeded those inside, with a humidity level that was nearing sauna levels.

Roy desperately needed to shower.

Thankfully, with most of the other cadets off the premises enjoying themselves and decidedly not sorting through years old files, the communal showers for the men were empty. A rare occurrence that Roy was determined not to let slip through his fingers.

He was enjoying the freedom of having a private shower when he noticed the tingling that indicated his soulmate was writing something on their skin begin on his back, between his shoulder blades. An odd place for someone to be drawing on. Roy wouldn't have been able to hold a pen in a way that he would be able to write anything back there. There was no way anyone could see. And even with a mirror, everything would be backwards.

Deciding that he would puzzle out what his soulmate was doing later, Roy returned to the soaping of his hair.

Roy was rinsing the suds off of himself when the tingling changed. It wasn't the pleasant little pokes and warmth that he had learned accompanied his soulmate's application of ink. No, this was a stinging. Like someone was forcing a needle through his skin. And it burned.

Startled, Roy jerked the shower's handle until cold water was falling from the head above and he turned his back too it. The cold water was a relief against his back. Temporary for sure, and it did nothing to help with the stinging and jabbing he was feeling on his back, but it was cool and good enough for the time being.

He stayed in the shower as long as he dared, which was only a few minutes more, water was a highly valuable commodity in the location where they were, and if his superiors had found out he wasted a half hours' worth of water, his punishment would be worse than what he had to do that morning.

He would rather avoid that.

After dressing, Roy made his way back to his bunk. His back was still searing with pain, but he was determined to not let anyone see. A trait he was told that he picked up from his father.

"Dammit," he cursed. Soulmate markings weren't supposed to burn. They were supposed to be something reassuring, something comforting. Something was wrong. Something was happening with his soulmate, and it wasn't pleasant.

But he could do nothing.

That was almost worse than having the pain on his back. The knowledge that this was his soulmate and he was left to do nothing. That he could do nothing. That he had never spared a thought about the person whose scribblings he received, and in return would receive his. Roy had never even thought of looking for them.

It was in that moment he decided that he was going to attempt to find them. There was no guarantee that he was going to though. People could spend their whole lives searching and never find their soulmates. But he was going to attempt it. That he promised himself.

The pain lasted for three days on and off. When it was finally over, Roy waited until lights-out before stealing away to the showers. It was the only building that had large enough mirrors to stand and be able to see all he needed to. The pain had spread from his upper back between his shoulder blades down to the small of his back and everywhere in between.

He needed to know what was there.

Navigating to the showers wasn't as difficult as Roy had expected it would be. Patrols were few and far between, and he only managed to trip over one garbage can. It made a terrible clatter and he sprinted the rest of the way to his destination, but he made it without being caught.

The lights were as dim as he could make it and he stripped himself of his shirt. Looking over his shoulder to see what was written on his back he was stunned.

"What the hell?"

He'd known from eavesdropping on other cadets' conversations within the past few days that when a soulmates mark burned, it meant that they were doing something more than just on the surface of the skin. They were doing something permanent, like a tattoo. And this was an impressive one. From the base of his neck to the small of his back, covered in the ghost of red ink.

It was an impressive piece, he had to admit. It was intricate and detailed, and altogether rather elegant. Something he had not thought a tattoo capable of. Roy wondered if it would fade as the other ink markings had done, or if this was permanently going to be on his back. It was during these musings when he noticed something.

A small salamander within one of the circles.

It was like his eyes were opened anew and he took another appraising look at the ink.

It was alchemy. The whole tattoo was alchemy. He was unable to decipher it at the moment, while he could read Latin and read backwards, he could not read Latin backwards. But he could decipher the circles. It wasn't a difficult thing. Especially with the salamander. On his back was the way to learn and master Flame alchemy.

This was what his master was researching.

The sight of what he knew to be his master's notes unnerved him. His soulmate had the notes he had desperately wanted to learn back when he was under Master Hawkeye's tutelage. But because they did, so did Roy. He would no longer have to go back and beg his master to complete what he had started teaching him. He could park himself in front of the mirror here and decode them all alone. He wouldn't have to return to that crumbling house, he wouldn't have to suffer under the disapproving stares that he received from his master whenever he failed to get something correct right away.

He wouldn't see Miss Riza again.

For some reason, that thought alone gave him room to pause. Why would that matter to him? She was the daughter of his master. They barely spoke to one another, even though they had shared the same leaky roof for months. There had been times when Roy had thought they really bonded while doing their chores, but she hadn't even come downstairs to say goodbye to him in person. He had seen her silhouette from her bedroom window as he turned the corner. It had hurt more than he would admit to himself.

But for whatever reason, Roy pulled his shirt back up and buttoned it. To learn of his Master's work this way was low and dirty. His aunt would box his ears, even if he was an adult. No. He would go back to his master's and ask again. After his graduation.

Then he would find out to whom his master had entrusted these secrets.

His soulmate.

"She's in possession of my research."

Those were the last words his master spoke to him before he died. Before he was buried in the ground next to his wife that had preceded him years earlier. Before he was gone to leave his daughter to fend for herself.

Roy wanted to hate him for that.

"Can I trust you, Roy? Can I trust you with my father's research?" Her voice was quiet, hesitant. Unlike how it had been before he left for the military academy, where she would treat him as he was an equal. A friend.

At least that's what he assumed he was when she chucked a dish towel in his face and scolded him into drying the dishes when he lived there.

Riza looked up to Roy's face. He hadn't been this tall before he left. It was strange, to have to look down at her. She was searching his face, attempting to determine if he was worthy. If his naïve dream was worth what her father had bestowed on her. Roy watched her face, it was more closed to the world than it had been. And despite not being in contact for a while, he found he could still get a reading on his oldest friend.

He was relieved.

Suddenly she turned away. Whatever she found in his face must have satisfied her curiosity.

"Let's go back. I can make dinner before I give you Father's notes." Her voice and tone became impersonal, detached. Roy didn't like it. But he listened.

There was minor haggling about who was to make the meal. Roy insisted on helping, whereas Riza maintained that he had done too much for her already and shouldn't have to make his own food as a guest. In the end they compromised, if Roy could find the food in the kitchen, he could help make his own dinner.

He found about half.

It was a quiet affair. Riza had changed from the dress she had been wearing in the morning to something a little more comfortable. Not by much, but she insisted that she was fine. Roy didn't see it. Her shoulders were still tense and she wouldn't make eye contact anymore. Her distress seemed to roll of her like waves.

As they finished their food and cleared the table, her demeanor had not improved. Unable to keep his mouth shut any longer, Roy asked what was bothering her.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes. This way." She ducked her head down and walked away down the hall.

Roy followed.

Riza lead him to a room he had never been in during his apprenticeship. It wasn't that great of a surprise, he'd kept mostly to his room, the kitchen and the library to study away his time. And given the opportunity now, Roy studied the unfamiliar space. There was a lounge against the wall and a desk. Bookshelves lined the other wall, but they were nearly devoid of the books that would normally line them. He could see that a thick layer of dust coated everything.

When he had finally turned his attention away from the room he was in, Riza had already unbuttoned her shirt and was in the process of taking it off. Roy didn't think.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the hell do you think you're doing?" He crossed the room in a few strides and pulled the black shirt back up over her shoulders.

Riza sighed. He may have grown taller than her and more muscular from the academy, but he was still the same awkward boy that had arrived at her door and stuttered over his words until her father had come down from his study and scolded him into speaking correctly.

"Kindly remove your hands from my shoulders if you wish to see my father's notes. I know what I'm doing." She paused and looked at him over her shoulder. "Please."

Roy swallowed and returned to the place where he had been before. What was Riza doing? How did stripping herself of her shirt relate to her sharing her father's notes with him? What would-?

He stopped. He attempted to swallow over the lump that had formed in his throat. It couldn't be. It just couldn't.

But there it was.

Plain as day, from between her shoulders and down to the small of her back in red ink, was the same notes that he had found ghosted to his own all those months ago. And while his had faded to the point where he was able to once again enjoy going to a beach without having to wear a shirt, hers stood out vibrantly against her pale skin. And it would stay that way forever. A permanent reminder of her father's work.

Roy reached out. Millimeters before he actually touched the skin of the woman before him, his hand stopped. He stood behind her, not realizing that he had moved from his spot across the room.

"D-did he know?" His mouth felt dry, and his tongue lead.

Riza's head turned a little from where she had been staring at the wall. Not enough to look Roy in the face, but enough to know that he had her undivided attention. But she said nothing. A cold chill settled in Roy's stomach. She didn't know. Quickly, Roy attempted to backtrack and retract his question before she could question him in return.

"What about your soulmate? Wouldn't your father be concerned about them gaining access to these secrets?"

Riza gave him a sad smile. "What soulmate?"

It hit him like one of the military's freight trains. She thought that she had no soulmate. He had never drawn on his skin while he was growing up. There had never been any need on his end to do so. There had always been his notebook that rested in his pocket if something needed to be jotted down. It was sitting in his pocket at that moment too.

Then the memory of the first thing she had ever wrote on her skin floated to the forefront of his brain. Another wash of shame drifted over him. He should have realized then what her words had meant, but he was too caught up in the fact that there would be one less thing to be used against him when he went to school the next day.

His face burned.

Ignoring any protest that escaped her lips, Roy wrapped his arms around Riza and clung to her tightly. The smallest of noises escaped from her mouth. Roy had probably just initiated her first hug in years. It was unfair.

"I'm sorry. This is all my fault. I'm so, so sorry," he mumbled into her hair. What he was exactly apologizing for he couldn't say. Was he sorry for what her father had done when he tattooed the secrets of flame alchemy onto her back for the rest of her life? Was he sorry that he never gave her the reassurance when she needed it most? When she was alone, without her mother, and only her father who was far more interested in his own discoveries than his daughter? That he had left without a proper goodbye?

The answer had to have been all of it and none of it. And it was all true.

Somehow, Riza managed to turn herself around in his arms. Gingerly her arms wrapped around his body and she returned the hug. One hand drifted upwards and began to lightly pet the hair on his head. She couldn't tell what he was apologizing for this time; he always seemed to find fault in things that were unrelated to him. The motion resulted in a stuttering sound from Roy. Perhaps it was him attempting to hold in a sob.

"Shhh. Shhh. It's okay." She murmured.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Their embrace lasted until long after the sun had gone down. No more words were shared between the two. Studying the alchemy they had entered that room for was forgotten. It was simply the two of them, sharing in the grief brought upon them by the world and by themselves.

Slowly Roy pulled himself away from the young blonde girl and attempted to give a brave face. Riza's arms came to cross in front of her. But his eyes never left hers as he drew out a pen from his pocket. The notebook that had rested in the same pocket fell out as well, but it lay abandoned. Gingerly he held out his palm and watched as her eyes drifted down. Using his pen, he drew a small figure eight there.

It took a few moments, but Roy watched as her face changed from the confusion as she watched him press the ink onto his skin, to a startled look to her palm as the tingling started, before a quiet understanding spread across her features as the exact shape appeared upon her palm as well. Hesitantly she reached out with her other hand and ran her finger over the elliptical shape. After she had done that, she did the same to Roy's hand.

Her eyes shone when she looked back to his. Her emotions could not be contained behind the wall she had so sturdily built over years. They warred over who would take control. Her anger, her resentment, her relief, her hope, and her understanding. But there was more than that when Riza looked into Roy's eyes.

It was two halves finally seeing the other.

A/N: This was a fun universe to write in. I'd like to continue with this with other pairings in the series, so hopefully I'll be able to get those written and up soon enough.