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Riza Hawkeye didn't celebrate Love Day because, well, she had better shit to do. The mere idea of getting flowers irritated her. Chocolates, okay, she'd accept them. She'd eat them. But she'd be mad that someone would try to get any special 'points' by gifting her chocolates on this very specific day. Why didn't she get chocolates every other day, randomly? This day wasn't anything noteworthy to her. And anyone that tried to make her feel like she had to accept all of these bouts of dialled up affection today had a bullet in her chamber with their name on it.
However, fine. Love Day was notoriously celebrated in cities. They'd made a commercial affair out of the entire thing. Flower shops would mark up their most romantic looking flowers to insane degrees, wanting to make a profit. The market vendors shouted SPECIAL PRICES and gestured to their chocolates as if mere two days ago... you couldn't find these chocolates for half the price? People would come by restaurants and cafés and see a couple, immediately zeroing in on targets, armed with roses and an insanely well crafted guilt trip. Is this your lady? Such a pretty lady deserves a pretty rose, doesn't she, my guy? Hey, boss-man, don't you want to be a gentleman? Get your lucky a girl a flower and you might get lucky tonight yourself!
By and large...Riza Hawkeye hated Love Day. It didn't celebrate love. It annoyed her. And it depressed Rebecca. Who was coming to terms with the fact that she'd spend her very first Love Day since she was sixteen by herself. Truly, the way she went on about this...one would think that she was going to lose a limb. ''I'm finally too old to be loved! Oh god!! I need to settle!!! It's time!!!!''
Riza Hawkeye was eating at the cafeteria, ignoring the way the men in uniform would try their hand at flirting with anyone that walked by. They, too, were armed with roses. She saw Havoc coming up to their table with two roses and Riza Hawkeye started glaring at him, when he was 30 metres away, and it was around the 20 metre mark that he fully saw her expression, gulped, whirled on his heel, and decided against bothering Riza. If he wanted to try his hand with Becca, he'd do so without Riza present to witness this nauseating affair.
''Why don't you give a flower to some man?'' Riza shrugged her shoulders.
Rebecca looked at her as if she'd told her to kill herself. Perhaps she had. Riza didn't understand any of this Love Day nonsense. ''Riza,'' a near wail, ''I can't possibly admit defeat!''
Thankfully, before they could go into how Love Day was a declaration of war and triumph for women with a Love Day partner and a deep sense of doom for women without, their lunch break was over. They had to contend with an inspection from Central City.
It was supposed to be Maes Hughes. But Maes Hughes called in sick (he wanted to take Gracia out on a series of romantic adventures, culminating finally in a beautiful restaurant that cost an arm and a leg to reserve months in advance), so he had someone else cover for him.
By the annoyed energy radiating off of the Colonel, Riza immediately figured out it was Solf J. Kimblee who had walked through this door, carrying a stack of papers he needed to go through with the entire team.
Falman, Breda, Havoc, and Fuery were all on it. Mustang and Kimblee were at odds. Something had happened just before Riza had gotten back from her lunch break and she had missed it.
But it wasn't any of her business, so if these two men decided to act like children, she'd join the actual adults and get this paperwork done.
The Colonel asked her, while she was going through the files: ''Lieutenant, any plans for Love Day?''
''To shoot anyone that tries giving me a flower.''
Kimblee laughed at Mustang's shocked expression.
Then, when Riza saw Mustang holding something suspiciously shaped like a flower behind his back, she just groaned: ''Sir, I don't care for this holiday. It's distracting and annoying. If you really care about someone, you'll show you care about them every day. This is a cash grab.''
''I think, just as Colonel Mustang's go-getter personality is performative, so, too, is this holiday. It's perfectly emblematic of what you represent!''
Annoyance flared: ''Give me a break, you're the biggest liar that walked out of that desert.''
Ah, so they'd struck a nerve about Ishval earlier. Well, Riza couldn't muster enough energy to be surprised. Every conversation, Mustang and Kimblee had tended to somehow come back to the desert and their crimes. Or accolades. Depended on who you asked.
''What have you got planned for Love Day, Kimblee?'' Riza asked, just so she could shock the both of them out of staging another debate. Their last one had lasted close to 8 hours. Long-winded bastards, the both of them.
Kimblee shrugged his shoulders. ''I need to catch a train back to Central City, end of day. By the time I come back, this holiday will have passed.'' A pause. As he smiled. ''Why?'' Then he leaned closer, playfully. ''Did you have anything in mind?''
Riza shot him down like a sniper only could. ''I have this friend, you might know her, Rebecca Catalina?'' A burst of laughter from Mustang. ''She would love to get to know you a little better.''
Snickers rippled from the rest of the team, too. Kimblee simply narrowed his eyes and shook his head. ''You wound me, Riza.''
Rebecca Catalina and Solf J. Kimblee had dated for a very short period of time. If they had dated for a little longer, there would be a homicide report. It would just depend on which party would snap first and take the other by surprise.
Riza smiled a little vindictively to herself. And didn't look up from the papers she was scanning. ''Yes, well, stupid questions deserve stupid answers.''
Kimblee raised his arms in the air in defeat and went around to sit across from her and take a handful of the papers from another folder he'd brought along.
At the end of the day, once they'd completed the entire inspection and filled out all the necessary paperwork, Kimblee (armed with a heftier stack of papers than he'd come with) was being escorted by Riza to the train station. They were talking about their mutual disdain for this holiday. In reality, Kimblee didn't mind it. But he did agree that people who only performed romantic gestures on this day weren't actually romantic and should be disdained. Riza Hawkeye, meanwhile, absolutely loathed this holiday. It was a parody of love.
''How would you celebrate a day dedicated to love, then?'' Kimblee asked her, genuinely curious for her opinion. He hefted the papers up and got a better hold of them. The Military had not supplied him with a briefcase. That, too, had to be a parody of something.
Riza shrugged her shoulders, trudging onward. ''I don't know. I don't think love should be celebrated. It's either there or it isn't.'' Then, ''And you? What grand display would you advocate for?''
''No grand display.'' Kimblee reassured her. He pressed his chin against the folders so they wouldn't fly away. It impeded his posture, turning him into a gargoyle of sorts. ''I would, I think, try to make something with my alchemy. Or maybe I'd compose a song.''
''Dramatic musician-alchemists.'' Riza's disdain knew no bounds this day.
It charmed Kimblee, utterly. So he laughed, unable to help himself. ''I've never seen you be such a pessimist!''
''I'm not being a pessimist.'' Riza said. Refusing to yield. ''I'm being a hater.''
Kimblee had to set the papers on a bench at the train station. So he could fully appreciate that comment in its entirety. ''Riza Hawkeye, I am learning so much about you.'' He pressed a guarding hand on top of the stack so they didn't fly away.
''You're being ridiculous.'' Riza couldn't wait for the train to come by and take Kimblee away. She had to ensure he got on the train and officially conclude his military business in East City. Whatever happened then to his stack of papers and himself wasn't any of her business.
''You know, Riza, you're leaving with me no other choice than to, come next Love Day, ignite the sky with fireworks spelling out my love for you.'' Kimblee made an arch in the sky with his free hand. ''It'll be grand. Something never before seen.''
''I am going to shoot you.'' Riza Hawkeye didn't say this as a threat, but just something she had come to terms with would be happening next Love Day.
Kimblee treated it as such. ''And I'll report you to HQ. Then you'll have to do a psychological evaluation - which, based off of how your last one went...I wouldn't.'' He smiled.
Riza looked at her wristwatch. This train wasn't late, they were just too early. Yet it felt like the train was late and that wasn't something she could deal with.
Kimblee continued explaining away his grand, dramatic gestures of love he was going to inflict on Riza, solely for his own amusement.
''I'm going to invent a Hate Day.'' Riza said, causing Kimblee's face to split in a wide, disbelieving smile, like what he was witnessing was a work of art and not a very annoyed woman. ''And then I'm going to line up everything I hate and shoot it. If you genuinely go through with this joke - which I'm treating as such - you will be among those things, Solf.''
A little laugh. Before Kimblee could say anything more about this, the train started signalling its arrival in the station. So he quickly manoeuvred to grab hold of all the papers from scattering. The second the doors to the train opened, Riza Hawkeye made sure to have him board.
''Goodybe, Solf!'' She said, turning her back to him and leaving.
His laughter followed her. ''Goodbye, Riza!''
Come next Love Day, Solf J. Kimblee wasn't at East City HQ because there wasn't a scheduled inspection from Central City. Riza Hawkeye breathed a sigh of relief. Now she had to simply contend with Rebecca and Havoc dancing around each other with their little flowers. Nobody was approaching her. Ah. No. She'd said that too quickly.
Riza Hawkeye saw one of the privates from the mailroom walking to her, with a letter. In a red, romantic envelope. Oh no. Riza Hawkeye narrowed her eyes. She accepted the envelope and thanked the private for his dutiful delivery.
With clear disdain that drowned out Rebecca's excitement over this fantastic development, Riza opened the envelope and saw a card. It startled a laugh out of her.
Instead of any hearts or flowers, it was decorated by what Riza assumed was a very poor drawing of a sniper's rifle. Followed by beautiful cursive lettering: HAPPY HATE DAY, LET'S ALL HATE TODAY!
When she opened the card to read what was inside, it caused her to hide her face with the card and laugh even harder.
It was an entire essay, written back to back, on that entire inside of the card, about what a better holiday HATE DAY would be than love day. Hypothesis, theory, limitations of research, and conclusion all included. At the bottom there was a small PS. It read: This is all an abstract. I have an actual paper I wrote on this that I decided against sending. Call after work for more details and my sales-pitch.
Rebecca prompted Riza to see the card, and upon Riza relinquishing her hold on it, sighed deeply in dismay: ''Riza, girl, this man's unwell.'' Then, looking at her best friend laughing herself silly, Rebecca sighed, again: ''I see you're no better, either.''