Closing the Rift
He was surprised at how well she accepted the news. Instead of the flat out refusal he had been expecting, he received a tight nod in return.
"You don't have to go, Riza." He heard himself say to her in an oddly gentle voice that even surprised himself. She shook her head vehemently in protest.
"I'm going." She replied softly, her face closed off.
"Okay." He answered briskly to hide his surprise, turning to walk around her. He didn't want to see her face. "We leave tomorrow morning at 500 hours exactly." With that, he walked out the door, turning back once to see her lonely figure standing in the middle of the empty room with a forlorn expression on her face.
He watched Fury and Farman run back and forth between the empty building and the car as Havoc loaded the car with the luggage being brought out. He swallowed hard, determined not to look down at the ground.
Suddenly, he heard light footsteps behind him, and almost cringed. After Fury's sixth trip, he opened his mouth to speak when cut off by a curt, "No."
This time, he did cringe. "You sure?" He asked, tentatively.
He felt a feather light touch on his hand and inadvertently looked down. He had forgotten to put on his gloves when he woke up earlier.
"Very."
The coldness of the window crept beneath his skin and sunk into the core. He shivered, unseeingly staring out the window.
"The train for Ishbal will be leaving the station right now. Will all passengers please return to their respective compartments until we leave the station?"
The name of the their destination still gave him shudders whenever he heard, digging up the old memories of the past. His hands felt cold, despite having put on his gloves before arriving at the train station. He felt a jerk, a few bumps and heard the whistle sound loudly three times as the train started pulling out of the station. Glancing over to her bent body working on cleaning her guns again, he wondered what in the world she was thinking, agreeing to come with him to this desolate place. Again.
The sand crunched loudly beneath his boots as he stepped out of his dark tent into the gently, setting evening. He let out the breath he'd been holding ever since he had gotten there. He rubbed his bare hands together, trying to get warm. Once he'd realized that his gloves weren't keeping his hands warm, he'd discarded them. After all, if it doesn't help, what's the use?
The sun was beautiful; a giant, fiery ball falling to the ends of the horizon, burning up the edges of the sight in front of him. He remembered staring in awe the same way as he was right now, years ago. Ever since his first night there, the Ishbal sun had captivated his attention, reminding him so much of his own power used to destroy the country.
He remembered that first night vividly, like it was happening in his mind right then. Screams of terror rang in his ears, sounds that will never leave his mind. Crimson blood painted in a unique pattern that will never be washed away. His muscles sore from running, his fingers that hurt even more from his killing job at war...
Roy was a mess when he stumbled into his quarters late that
evening. His hair was mussed into a crazy nest, his uniform was
covered with a dull copper, and his face held a despair that Riza had
never seen before. "Roy!" She caught him as he nearly crashed into the desk. "Riza," he mumbled, catching her arm in his hand. "What did I do? What in the world did I do?" "What?" She tried to look into his face, but he refused to look at her,
instead looking down with a steadfast determination. "Roy, what
are you talking about?" "I killed them." He murmured, his voice catching after each word.
"They died, because of me. I killed them all. Even the
young ones." She gasped in horror. "But I thought Brigadier Basque Gran only
called you in for..." She trailed off as he wildly shook his
tousled head. "They sent us straight to the battlefield." Then he started laughing
uncontrollably. "What a bunch of fucktards!" He growled, pushing
her away. "Battlefield, my ass! More like a town full of innocent
people trying to hide from the fighting..." He stopped talking and
raised his head to look at her. Riza felt herself freeze at the
sight. He looked desperate, crazy almost. Blood dripped
from the sides of his face, she had no doubt it wasn't his own,
mingling with the salty tears that continuously fell from his desolate
eyes. "Riza," she heard him ask. "Am I doing the right
thing here?" She felt that she couldn't answer, instead feeling her own tears welling up. "I don't know." she choked out. "Then what should I do, Riza?" He asked in a tiny voice, turning away
to bury his crying face into his dirty gloves. "What should I do?" Feeling more helpless than the way he sounded, Riza closed her eyes,
and let the tears spill. She knew he wouldn't remember it the
next day, or the day after. Or he at least wouldn't mention it to
anyone. "Do what you feel is right." She whispered shakily, quickly
wiping away the traces of tears on her cheeks. He didn't answer
her, his shoulders still shaking violently in front of her. Riza
felt the need to keep crying, and swallowed hard, trying not to look at
her broken superior. She couldn't stand it, trying her best to
stifle a sob, she quickly, as silently as she could, left the tent. "I'm so sorry..."
That was the night he felt her leave him. Since then, he went out of his way to avoid her, and he felt her do the same. They rarely saw each other during that time in Ishbal, and he couldn't blame her for it. He never mentioned his murdering the Rockbell doctors to her, but he knew she found out through someone else, perhaps Hughes, that busybody. After they left the destroyed country, when they went back to Central City, everything went back to normal. She saw him everyday and made sure he managed to get his work done despite his procrastination. They never spoke of that night, it was something that would've made the rift between them bigger than it already was.
His fingers suddenly itched for something to do, and Roy desperately wished he was a smoker, for he wouldn't have the problem of shoving his hands into his pockets before taking them out, and repeating the process over again. A lithe shadow fell into his peripheral vision, and his head snapped over to see her standing under the shadow of his tent.
"Good evening." His voice sounded detached as he determinedly stuck his hands into his pockets again. "Is there something you need?"
"No, sir." She replied softly, taking a few steps closer to him. Roy stiffened, not sure if he wanted to be so close to her right then. He wasn't sure if she noticed, or if she just ignored it, but she kept walking towards him until she stood next to him, staring at the remaining evidence of the sun. "It's beautiful." She commented offhandedly.
He winced. "It is." He hesitantly agreed.
She turned to look at him full in the face. "Then why don't you like it?" She asked abruptly, searching his face with sharp eyes.
Roy couldn't contain his surprise, and tried his best to squash it down. "What do you mean?" He retaliated, avoiding the question.
She didn't bother responding, instead patiently waiting for his answer. He struggled to keep his mouth shut, but found that he couldn't. "It just reminds me of that night." He blurted out.
Riza raised her eyebrow, but didn't respond, letting him finish what he started.
"I just," Roy paused, breathing in deeply. "It hurts. That first night hurt the most." Letting out that breath, Roy took his hands out of his pockets again. "It got numb the nights afterward, but I'll never forget that first night." He stopped again, he could feel his heart beating rapidly underneath his jacket. "Each night I would stand outside by myself, watching that same sun fall below the horizon, because... because it reminds me of my fire." He raised his head, looking at her intently with his dark eyes. "It'll forever remind me of all the people I've hurt that day, and the pain I've inflicted."
Slowly, she reached over to hold his cold hands in her warm ones. "It's gone, though." She whispered, her grip tight. "You can't torture yourself forever about it."
He grasped on, finally feeling an anchor to lean on. "I know." He answered, feeling something warm fall down his cheek.
"It won't hurt if you don't let it." Pulling his hands to her chest, Riza stepped closer. "I'll make sure it won't."
His breath came quick as the sobs threatened the take over. He closed the rift between them, as she brought her arms around him, holding him as he cried away the pain that haunted him for so many years.
-fin
A/N: This was originally written for
royaifiction's (over at livejournal!) first challenge, First Night in
Ishbal, but it wasn't finished in time, so I never entered.
However, I still enjoyed writing this. I'm really sorry for any
grammatically errors that I missed, and OOCness that I have impaled
upon my readers. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!
On another note, my greatest apologies for not updating in the longest
time. I still don't have Microsoft Word yet, and it is a bit
aggravating typing everything up in Notepad, but I can deal.
"Risk For You" has been renamed as "Ashes", and part two is already
done, and has been done for a few months already, I just haven't had
the time to type it up. Hopefully I will be able to do that by
next month since everything as of now is on a haitus, because I am
doing nanowrimo this month (National Novel Writing Month). I hope
everyone will stay with me when I come back into the world of
fanfiction. Thank you for understanding!