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An apprentice was coming to the Hawkeye household.
As a young girl, Riza often imagined what her life would be like when she finally became her father’s apprentice. He always used to talk about how quick-witted she was, and brag about her practical understanding of rudimentary alchemy.
For years, it had been just the two of them. Years of memories existed between the two of them. Yet somehow, Riza’s favorites would never take place.
What would it be like to finally learn alchemy with her father? Riza pictured herself as a young woman, studying from her father, and growing closer to him.
All of this shattered when Riza turned ten. It didn’t matter how hard she concentrated, or how furiously she studied. She could sketch the circles necessary, understand all of the compounds, but she was unable to perform the simplest transmutation.
These lessons only went on for a few days before her father ended them abruptly. He never said why, but Riza knew. She had failed him.
With this failure came the understanding that her father was going to have to find someone else to teach alchemy to. All those memories she’d imagined as a young girl would belong to someone else.
The fateful day came when Riza was thirteen.
“Riza,” her father said. “Tomorrow morning, a promising young alchemist is going to move in with us. I am taking an apprentice.”
Riza’s heart sunk. She had known for years that her father had fully given up on her, but his words stung all the same.
“Yes, sir.”
“You aren’t to talk to him when you don’t need to,” The elder Hawkeye said. “I don’t need you getting in the way.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very good.”
Riza was dismissed. The next day, as promised, Roy Mustang moved in. He was a teenage boy with fluffy black hair and pointed eyes, but Riza only got one quick glance before she returned to her duties. Dishes, laundry, house upkeep, grocery shopping, and her own personal studies overwhelmed her.
Weeks went by like this. The only indications Riza had that she was sharing her house with a stranger were the extra dishes and the additional men’s clothes she washed.
The night was late, and Riza had just finished with the last of the evening dishes. She changed into her nightgown and climbed into bed.
Pushing her face into her pillow and stifling sobs, she felt lonelier than ever. Berthold hadn’t so much as acknowledged her since he took in the apprentice. It wasn’t like he’d ever been a doting father, but a gentle thank you every once in a while had gone a long way.
Perhaps it was naive, Riza thought, to think that bringing someone new into the house would make her any less lonely. She knew that she wasn’t allowed to have a close relationship with him, but she hadn’t seen more than a quick brush of his hair. Was he a cold man, like her father? Or warm and gentle, like her mother had been?
There was a knock at her bedroom door.
Heart beating fast, Riza sat up suddenly. She rushed to the door, only to hesitate before opening it.
Mister Mustang stood there, holding one of Riza’s undergarments.
His pale face was blushed red, and his thick black hair was untamed.
“I found this in my laundry,” he stammered. “I think it’s yours.”
Riza stood there, in her nightgown, looking over the new apprentice. She’d only just seen his face for the first time, but she knew at that moment that Roy Mustang was a warm man, and nothing like her father.
“Yes, that’s mine. Thank you.” Riza reached out and took her undergarment back. “I apologize, I should have been more thorough. This won’t happen again, Mister Mustang.”
“You can call me Roy,” he said, looking as nervous as Riza felt. “And don’t apologize- it’s an honest mistake. You shouldn’t worry about this.”
Roy looked at Riza in a way that no one had looked at her before. Over her short life, many people had looked at her in different ways. There was her father, who saw her as a tool. As a means to an end. Men in the streets and in stores occasionally looked at her with lust. Her mother, right before her passing, looked upon Riza as a pitiful creature.
There was a certain authenticity in his eyes. His soul was burning with a passion, and a zeal for life.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mister Mustang,” Riza said. She allowed herself to smile.
Roy scratched the back of his head. “It can get kind of lonely in this big house. If you ever wanted to do something fun, you can come find me. I’m just in the room across the hall.”
Perhaps he would make her less lonely after all, Riza thought to herself. She didn’t know at that moment if she had a childish crush, or if it was just good to have a friend, but what she did know was that she was glad to have met him.
After bidding her new friend goodnight, Riza put her undergarment back in the draw where it belonged and climbed back into bed.
The weeks began to pass faster. Riza was still lonely most of the time, but she lived for the brief moments when she would exchange a few kind words with Mister Mustang. Or the brief glances they made when they ran into each other in the halls.
A few times, Riza would go down to do the dishes to find they’ve already been done. Roy never said a word, but Riza knew it was him. Her father would never stoop himself to be a caretaker, but the apprentice seemed to take great pride in everything he did.
As the years passed, the pair grew closer together. They never had to say much, but Roy was always willing to bring Riza into town with him.
When Roy joined the military and severed ties with her father, Riza had the sinking feeling that she might never see him again.
Berthold refused to see his old apprentice off, but Riza couldn’t bear not saying goodbye.
“Thank you for everything, Mister Mustang,” Riza said quietly.
“You can call me if you ever need someone to talk to,” Roy said, blushing. He handed Riza a telephone number for her to call while he was in the military.
Riza nodded, knowing full well her father would forbid any such thing.
“I’m glad I got to meet you,” Riza said gently.
Roy smiled. “Me too. But I’m sure I’ll see you around.”