Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ I Skip the Little Ones ❯ Theme 5: Heiki (Weapon) & Heiki (Fine) ( Chapter 5 )

Theme 5: Heiki (Weapon) & Heiki (Fine)

A Man with a Conscience

 

Riza Hawkeye winced as she pulled the last bandage over her burn wounds. They had been healing nicely, and it wasn't as if he had burned her entire back, but still… She hadn't expected it to hurt so much; it was like she'd forgotten how all the burn wounds she had received from her father as a child felt. Of course, she was never going to tell him that. Besides, at least now she was free - free from the burden of constant worry and doubt, the fear that she would die and the secrets on her back would go to the wrong person, that an alchemist would touch her and somehow set off the circle (even though her father had ensured her that that was impossible, it was still a terrifying prospect in Riza's mind).

 

Thanks to her father, she'd been the key to the ultimate weapon: The Flame Alchemist. After Ishbal, she simply couldn't stand the thought of creating another, especially if that other was like Kimbley. She shuddered. At least the Major - no, Lieutenant-Colonel, now - the Lieutenant-Colonel has a conscience, she thought, dragging a black shirt over her head. The knife bit into her hand and he tried to fight her off, screaming something about blood, and getting his hands off. She held on; she couldn't let him do that, couldn't let him die, he was too damn important… That had been almost a week ago, but she should really forget it, because the war was over; the State Alchemists had ended the war quickly. She buttoned her uniform's jacket, checked her appearance in the mirror, and left the room she shared with Rebecca.

 

She had been summoned to his office. Riza couldn't help but hope it was about her request for transfer. She hovered outside his door, suddenly feeling unreasonably nervous. “He… It's just… A child…” He looked for forlorn, so guilty…She blinked the image away, steeled herself, and knocked.

 

 

Riza stirred her tea, humming to herself quietly. She ignored the strange looks Rebecca kept shooting at her from her chair across the room.

 

“If I ever step off the path, shoot me. You are entitled to do so. Will you follow me?”

 

As if I would let you step off, Mustang. “As you wish, sir. Into Hell, if you so desire.”

 

Mustang stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. Report here for duty at 0800 hours tomorrow. Dismissed.”

 

She saluted. “No,” Mustang said suddenly, gently guiding her hand away from her face. “You don't salute to me, of all people, unless it's necessary.”

 

“Yes, sir.” He was much too close to her, and she began to feel nervous again, only this time she couldn't have said why.

 

“Your…your…”Musta ng stopped. Pain and self-hate flashed across his eyes and he took a breath, began again. “How is your back, Second Lieutenant?”

 

She smiled. A man with a conscience, the best person to hold the consequences of her father's research - if the burdens of being a human weapon didn't drive him crazy, first. She thought he could handle it. “I'm fine,” she assured him.