A/N: Written based on a prompt by follow-royai-into-hell on Tumblr, the prompt being: A person's world is black and white until they meet their soulmate and then when you lose your soulmate, your world returns to black and white. This will have a twist in the second chapter, however.

It was something Roy knew was an inevitability in their world. If color was brought into one's life, it would eventually be taken away. That was both the blessing and curse of finding one's soulmate. It was an inevitability… but Roy did not think that it would happen like this; where he was helpless and unable to do anything to prevent it.

He screamed her rank again, begging her to hold on.

"I won't die," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm under strict orders… not to die."

He wanted so badly to believe her words, to grasp them and know them as truth; but the progressively darkening world around him instilled within him a seed of doubt.

Hair once blonde had now begun to lose its shine and luster; skin once fair was now ashen and grey. And the blood… The puddle of blood – her own blood- she had collapsed in had slowly begun to darken.

Desperate to cling to what color remained, he zeroed in on the one color that was left - the chocolate brown of her eyes - and held her unwavering glare. When she saw that she had his attention, her dark eyes moved to the ceiling above her before moving back to meet his.

Her message was clear and it left an inkling of hope in his heart; enough to push the doubt that took root within him to the backburner.

He just needed to hold and follow their orders and wait… Despite watching the colors of his world, his everything, bleed out before his very eyes.

Had Roy Mustang known that his life would have drastically changed that day, he probably would have worn something a little less drab, a little more pleasing to the eye. After all, it was the least she deserved…

Because the moment Riza Hawkeye opened the door to her father's home, Roy's world, and hers, suddenly changed.

He would oftentimes recall it as an explosion of prismatic blotches that danced across his eyes, like kaleidoscopic embers dissolving an invisible veil that had been in place for the entirety of his life.

Her perception, she would later begin to describe, was much more subtle; with hues and shades of colors slowly weaving their way through her field of vision until they at last blended together into a polychromatic medley.

But not matter how they described it, one thing was certain: Their worlds were suddenly bathed with a multitude of colors and hues, shades and tones they had only heard of from those that could witness the entire color spectrum. This was oftentimes described as the pinnacle of a person's life. Never had he expected to experience it that day.

Their awe, however, was short-lived. Because moments after this destiny-altering event happened, Berthold Hawkeye stepped into view and made his presence known, interrupting the pair's relative shock.

Hawkeye must have seen the stars in Roy's eyes because his initial greeting was far less enthusiastic than Roy had expected it to be. Swallowing his surprise, Roy immediately shoved his hand toward the older man and stammered, "It's a pleasure to finally be able to study under you—"

"You're late," Hawkeye grumbled as he turned away from the door and stalked back into the house. When Roy did not immediately follow, he threw a glance over his shoulder that demanded Roy follow.

Reaching down and clutching the handles of his suitcase, Roy stepped inside and closed the door behind him, trying his hardest to not allow his eyes to stray too far from the man, though it proved to be extremely challenging.

"Riza," Hawkeye growled huskily, "Show the boy to his room at once."

"Yes, Father," the girl, Riza, replied as she looked away from him and toward the floor, keeping her attention on anything but Roy.

Her father dwelled for a moment, staring critically down at her. When her eyes moved up to look him in head on, he gave his head a firm shake before shuffling to one of the rooms toward the back of the house, without so much as throwing another glance back over his shoulder.

With the man's back turned, Roy instantly zeroed in on the girl in question, lapping up as much of her presence as he could. She wasn't looking at him, her eyes glued to her father's back as he lumbered away.

She seemed so… Unresponsive to what had just happened. As if she hadn't experienced what he just had. A lump began to form in Roy's throat. He had heard stories like this before, though rare as they may be. Almost one-hundred percent of the time, the colors appeared instantaneously when two soulmates locked eyes. Sometimes, however, the colors never appeared, and the connection between two people is never truly established. As if one person's destiny depended on the other, but the second person did not necessarily depend on the first.

When she finally turned toward him, her eyes widened for a split second, as if seeing him in an entirely different light. Swallowing the lump that had formed, Roy tried to say something, but was cut off when the spark in her eyes vanished, an expression of calm washing over her features.

Clasping her hands in front of her, she murmured, "Right this way, Mr. Mustang," before turning on her heels and heading in the opposite direction of her father.

Roy obeyed and followed behind her, now free to take in what he was seeing to his heart's content. He wondered what colors he was witnessing. He knew some differences between reds and greens, or blues and purples, but he was never able to distinguish them as well as some other Colorblinds.

Something inside of him nagged at him, however, telling him that the colors he was witnessing were nothing brilliant, nothing special. Or, at least, that they were nothing like hers.

When his eyes gravitated back to her, his heart leapt in his chest. Something inside of him screamed for him to pay special notice, to focus on the intensity of the hues that defined her. Without being able to connect the names with the colors he was witnessing, Roy was struggling. He didn't know what to think, how to react. All he knew was that all of her colors caused him to be filled with a sense of warmth and comfort…

He nearly ran into her when she abruptly stopped outside one of the doors that lined the hallway. Seemingly ignoring his stumble, she quickly turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, stepping into the middle of the room. Keeping her eyes on the wall behind Roy as he stepped into the room she murmured, "This is your room. Dinner will be at five tonight," before taking a step forward to move around him.

"Wait!" She stopped, casting him a sideways glance. Seeing that he had her attention, he exhaled nervously and uttered, "Do you… Do you see them too?"

She paused for a moment, as if considering whether or not she wanted to answer. Then she gave him a sharp nod before taking a step toward the door.

His heart leapt in his chest again. So it wasn't one of those rare instances. This girl was his… "Don't you want to talk about—"

"No. I don't," she replied bluntly as she attempted to step around him. "I'd prefer to leave it be."

"'Leave it be,'" Roy practically cried. "Riza, how can we not talk about the fact that our view of the world has suddenly changed? Don't you know what this means?!" Maybe she didn't understand the gravity of it all. Maybe she didn't know the true significance of what had just happened…

"I do," she answered as her dark eyes, 'brown' he would later learn, narrowed. "And so does he."

"He? You mean your father," he asked as he furrowed his brows.

She nodded. "If he catches wind about what happened, he'll have you on a train back to Central before you could even process how you ended up there."

"He would," Roy mused. When she nodded, he asked, "Why? You don't think he'd be understanding?"

She nearly laughed, shaking her head as she said, "If you have those beliefs, then you don't know my father, so I'll give you a crash course: You are here to learn Flame Alchemy, not woo the daughter of its master. As long as you keep that goal in mind, you will gain the knowledge you seek."

Roy swallowed thickly. "And what about after I learn everything? What then?"

She thought about it for a moment, mulling over his words as she once again looked away from him, seemingly taking interest in the swirls and blends of colors of the hardwood floors. Then she looked back up at him and shrugged her shoulders. "It depends on whether or not you can keep silent about what just happened…"

"O-okay," he replied as she stepped around him and headed toward the door. But before turning the corner and disappearing, she paused in the doorway and looked back at him – truly taking in his appearance for the first time.

"I hope you do choose to remain silent…," she murmured as her eyes finally rested on his.

"I will," he blurted almost immediately as he felt hope swell within him. Fate had decided that she was his and he was hers… and he'd be damned if he screwed it up.

The color on her cheeks deepened as she gave him a sharp nod in reply before quickly stepping around the corner and out of sight, leaving him alone to take in the new world around him.

After a few weeks of avoiding getting anymore curious looks from Berthold Hawkeye, Roy was confident that he and Riza had perfected the art of keeping their stares and expressions of awe at every new tone they saw to a minimum. They had gotten so confident, in fact, that after Roy had been there for two months, they began to try and make sense of their new world together.

They would steal away into one of their rooms during the night's darkest hours with nothing more than a candle and book Riza had found when she had run to town for supplies one weekend. Huddled together around the light, they would flip through the brightly colored pages of the book, pointing out the various hues and the names associated with them.

"This one here," Roy said as he stopped on the page labeled 'red.' "That's the color of the dress you wore that day."

"You remember it?"

He looked up to see that she seemed genuinely surprised.

With a sheepish grin, he shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Of course I do. How could I forget?" When she shook her head, he asked, "Do you remember what I wore?"

Her cheeks flushed and she looked back down at the book again, flicking through the pages of the book until she came to a page that was specifically labeled 'brown.' Glancing back up at him, she mumbled, "It was that brown sweater of yours."

When he wrinkled his nose, she shot him a curious look. Shaking his head, he said, "Now that I know what it actually looks like, I'm not a huge fan. I can't believe my aunt let me wear that."

"Oh," she said as she looked back down at the book in her lap, her expression softening as she brushed her fingers over the brown palette on the page. "I think it looks nice on you."

This time it was Roy's turn to blush. Averting his eyes away from hers, he looked down at the brown page and studied it for a few moments. "Well then," he said as he glanced back up at her and smiled, "I'll have to wear it more often."

"Think of it like this," Havoc tried to explain, "Imagine the warmth you feel every time you produce a flame. That's kind of what red and orange and yellow are like. They're all described as warm colors."

"Is that so," Roy replied, half-listening to Havoc's explanation as he tried to steal a glance at his First Lieutenant, who had chosen to look away for the moment, having heard the story and explanations multiple times already.

Of course, the two of them already knew nearly every shade under the sun, having studied them together for years. But for the team's sake and theirs, their ability to see the colors of the world around them was only known between the two of them. And because of their positions, they intended to keep it that way.

The concept of color was still fairly new to the Second Lieutenant, having only been able to see them for a few weeks or so. Who would have thought that Riza's best friend, Rebecca Catalina, was the one for Havoc?

They had heard the story nearly a dozen times by now. 'I just saw her and then 'bam!' Colors everywhere'… or something along those lines. By that time the rest of men had grown tired of it, though Roy wouldn't admit that he actually enjoyed hearing Havoc's countless recountings of that time. After all, it reminded him of how he and Riza met.

It was that same warmth Havoc was describing that he felt pool in his chest that day, and every time he looked at her. Between the coral-red sweater she wore and the golden blonde color of her hair, his first experience seeing color was akin to having a flame ignited within him that was fed every time his eyes fell upon her.

He never knew, however, that those colors, those brilliant reds and golds he had grown to love, would be turned against him…

When the doctor disappeared into the tubing and pipes above, Roy knew he only had one shot to get away… And get to her. Using the rejected Fuhrer candidates' shock to his advantage, he twisted his arm and grabbed the blade in one of their hands, thrusting it through the man's neck. Feeling their grips loosen, he dashed forward and broke free from them, racing through the mayhem toward her with his arm outstretched.

There was still that light in her eyes, and he would be damned if he let anymore color bleed away. He would get to her and—

A force suddenly crashed into Roy's side, slamming him to the ground and knocking the wind from his lungs. Disoriented and confused, he tried to lift himself up, only to find that a massive weight was on his chest. Blinking away the stars that had sprung in front of his eyes, he looked up to see a dark figure hovering above him, its feet planted firmly on his chest. Tossing his head to the side, he tried to find that mess of blonde hair he had zeroed in on before… and nearly overlooked her as the stars, and colors, continued to fade from his vision, blending her hair and body into the floor as the chaos raged on around her.

Before he could attempt to struggle against the weight, a piercing pain suddenly shot through his arms, causing him to cry out in anguish. Instinctively rolling his head back to try and identify the source of the pain, he was greeted by Fuhrer Bradley's smug grin.

Seeing that he had Roy's attention, he twisted the blades that penetrated Roy's palms, causing him to scream in pain. Obviously enjoying this, Bradley pressed harder on Roy's sternum and leaned over to see him more clearly. His paled face inches from Roy's, Bradley muttered, "We finally have our last human sacrifice."

"I told the old man before and I'll say it again," Roy spat venomously. "I will not perform human transmutation."

Bradley scoffed. "Such a shame… Seeing that you were given the opportunity to perform it in exchange for her life. Now, however, you will be left with no consolation for completing it."

"What—" Tearing his eyes away from Bradley, Roy saw that the turmoil around him had come to an abrupt halt, the remaining Fuhrer candidates placing themselves between Riza and their comrades, leaving her in the middle of the floor, the sticky black liquid continuing to flow from her wounds, soaking the ground beneath her.

They were in a stalemate, both sides locked in a state of tension so palpable and heavy that it added to the burden on his chest. The enemy was waiting… Holding their ground as if waiting for the last remnants of color to bleed from his vision.

"I can see the panic and fear in your eyes. Your reaction alone has all but confirmed it for me," Bradley sneered. "We were right in assuming that she was the one."

With a strangled cry, Roy frantically writhed beneath the Fuhrer's weight and pushed against the blades that pierced his hands, running them deeper through his palms.

The corners of Bradley's lips curled upward. "It's far too late for struggling now, Colonel Mustang. You aren't going anywhere."

A beat after Bradley uttered those words, a pressure surrounded his ankles and wrists, small tendrils of black lacing themselves around him and the area surrounding him, creating a barrier between the Fuhrer candidates and their allies once again. Jerking his head around, he saw Selim Bradley step out of the darkness, a dark tendril woven around and suffocating the gold-toothed doctor.

The doctor's offset eyes immediately moved down to the intricate design around Roy and he began to struggle against the Homunculus's impossibly tight grip.

"Step away, Wrath," Pride commanded as his shadows finished weaving their design. "I have secured him."

With one final smirk, Bradley obeyed. When he stepped off of Roy's chest and slowly pulled the blades from his palms, Roy clenched his teeth and hissed, further broadening the sickening grin on the Fuhrer's face.

With Bradley's weight off of his chest, Roy was allowed a tiny fraction of movement. Using this to his advantage, he managed to lift his head and find his Lieutenant – Riza's – eyes.

He held her focus, keeping his eyes locked on hers once more. In that short span of time, the shades of brown that dappled her eyes had begun to lose their brilliance, losing the depth they once had. But some color still remained, so he clung to that notion…

Fighting against the shadows that constrained him, Roy tried to reach out toward her as she did the same, sliding the hand that she had originally used to prop her body up in Roy's direction, still clutching her torn neck with the other.

His view of her was blocked a moment later as Bradley stopped next to her and watched as she clawed at the ground, trying to pull herself over to Roy.

She stopped for a moment to focus her cold and focused glare on him, silently damning the Fuhrer for his role in Roy's capture.

"I've always wondered what a painted world would look like," he mused. "Seeing that the colors my wife experiences are induced through a perfectly crafted form of alchemy.

"I had once envied you humans for experiencing it until I realized what that entailed." Looking up at Roy, he continued, "I don't know how I'd feel if my wife perished before I, plunging my once vibrant world into one of darkness and cold.

"It must be unbearable for you right now… Watching the colors and hues that once lit up your world die along with her."

Feeling his anger and despair consume him, Roy roared as he struggled against his restraint.

Bradley only smirked in response and looked back down at Riza, watching as she tore her eyes away from him and toward Roy again. Before she could advance further in her struggle to get to Roy, however, when Bradley lifted his foot and slammed the heel onto her outstretched hand, eliciting a muted and weak wail from her.

"Lieutenant," he yelled as he began to twist and writhe against Selim's shadows once again. "Hold on, please! Just hold—" He stopped, however, when her expression softened, the confidence she wore reducing itself to a look of sorrow as her muscles began to relax… and the last vestige of colors began to bleed away.

Then he was screaming, calling her name and begging, pleading, for her to stay. To hold on. To—

The ground beneath him began to shudder as a light surrounded him – the beginnings of a transmutation. As the light grew brighter, it illuminated everything around him, including Riza. His eyes widening in despair at what he saw, he opened his mouth to cry out once more, but was halted when the transmutation fully activated… and tore him apart.

Suddenly he was falling. Falling from that expansive white abyss into a sea of darkness. His plunge did not last long, however. Moments after he was dragged through the portal that black and white beast planted behind him, he hit solid ground, knocking the air from his lungs and causing him to gasp with pain.

"Colonel!"

His eyes flew open, but the darkness remained. Ignoring the pain in his hands and back, Roy pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and began to frantically look around. He recognized the voice, but it wasn't the one he wanted to hear.

"Mustang," Edward quipped as a hand rested on Roy's back. "Are you alright?!"

"No," Roy snapped as he began to feel around for something to help him stand. "I need to go back. The Lieutenant—"

"How did you get here," Edward demanded. "What happened?"

"Why is it so dark in here," Roy snarled as he clambered to his feet. "I need light! I have to know!" When he took a step forward, the toe of his boot caught on something and he fell onto his hands and knees again.

"Mustang—"

"You don't understand," he snapped as he began to grope around for something to grab to hoist himself up again. "I need light… I NEED TO SEE!"

He had to see. He needed to. Because in those final moments before he was plunged into a world of only black and white, his world, his colors, had been completely erased.

A/N: This little fic will have either one or two more chapters, and then will have two additional one-shots, one that will be Royai and the other will be Edwin, so that I explore this universe a little more.

Let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!