It's Not Checkmate Yet | FMA

Riza's POV

"What's gone is forever lost. Now, all we can do is live." ~Vic Mignogna (Brothers, a Fullmetal Alchemist song)

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Berthold Hawkeye

1828-1908

A loving father, a kind soul, and a true alchemy master. He will be greatly missed, and is joined by other loved ones in heaven above.

"He gave me the gloves," Roy speaks quietly, staring at the stone that bears information that I no longer wish to see. "He also told me you'd be able to help me with flame alchemy, if you choose to do so." He looks at me, his dark eyes hopeful but grieving.

I wipe away a stray tear. It does no good to show the weakness of sadness in times like these. Though, the memories. How they pained me. Seeing my father's last struggles for breath. The blood he coughed up. His slack body. The very definition of death.

"I'll have to think about that," I reply softly, voice barely above a whisper. "He's worked so hard..." I clench my fist, marveling at how ironic this is. I thought I've accepted that he was fading, but when he's gone, I sulk like my life will never go on. "Flame alchemy was basically his life."

Roy puts an arm on my small shoulders. I flinch at his touch, but don't pull away. His hand was large and warm. Comforting. I felt safe in his strong touch.

"And that information he's gathered is important to alchemists everywhere," he soothes. "The subject of flame alchemy is important to many. Your father has contributed so much in the research."

Slowly, I take a deep breath. If my father helped people when he was alive, then that's what I want to do. I will show Roy the information. I have to. I have to make him benefit. But, he sure as heck better become Fuhrer with what I've supplied him.

"Roy." I mutter quietly, catching his attention. I knew that this would be a big step, but I'd better take it without dwelling too much. "I will show you my father's secrets." To confirm my choice, I add, "Come to my house tonight."

"Um....okay," Roy agrees. He seems to be surprised at the suddenness of my decision, but he benefits from it nonetheless. "I'll be there." Then, he adds in a hushed whisper, "But you don't have to do this."

I feel my eyes harden with the determination this grief has brought upon me. See, father? I remembered something from alchemy. To gain something, you must lose something first. I lost my happiness. I gained my strength.

"But I want to," I state, straight to the fact. "I want to help people. I want to make this country a better place to live in." Then, I sigh exasperatedly. "I'm starting to sound like you."

Roy grins that grin of his. The grin I could always somewhat rely on to appear, even in the worst of situations. The smile, that I always admired. Something I could count on in a way.

"Who ever said that sounding like me was a bad thing?" he smirks. "I find my dreams quite... intriguing."

"Well, of course you do." I roll my eyes slightly at the fact that this man had no common sense with the words his said sometimes. "They're your dreams." Sometimes, Roy was so smart he was dumb.

"Well, Miss Help-People," Roy mocks playfully. "If you want to help so bad, why don't you join me as a dog of the military?"

So he's decided to become a dog. I'm about to try and convince him not to, but I stop. Maybe I should accompany him as a dog. Not for the military to kiss my butt, but to protect him. My father is now long gone. If I can't protect him, I have to protect Roy.