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Summary: If there was one thing that Colonel Roy Mustang hated, it was his birthday. Somewhere along the line, his birthday had become a symbol of another year of his life gone by. Now Roy celebrates his birthdays alone, with a bottle of scotch and an old photograph.
Yet another Royai story, because I am addicted to fluff. It's actually kind of bitter, and it wasn't supposed to be when I started writing it. Oh well. And where is my dear Cynic-chan? Why have you been banned! Damn songfics... grumble HURRY UP AND GET BACK HERE AND WRITE, DAMMIT! ;)
Disclaimer: Ed’s cape is red, Roy’s suit is blue. I don’t own FMA, so please don’t sue!
He could remember being a child, and celebrating his birthday with big parties and cake and ice cream. He would have friends over, and they would sing songs and play games and have fun. Roy Mustang once loved birthdays.
He wasn’t sure when he stopped liking his birthdays. But somewhere along the line, his birthday had become a symbol of another year of his life gone. Another year older. Another year closer to failure of his grand plan. Another year closer to death.
And, according to Maes Hughes, it had always been another year without a woman.
Not that Roy had ever listened to him or anything. Maes had been lucky. He had Glacier, a beautiful, wonderful, loving wife, and his sweet, adorable daughter Elicia.
But now Maes was gone. Every year since their times together in Ishbal, the best friends had celebrated their birthdays together. Then Maes had gotten married, and his birthday had been celebrated at home. But Roy’s birthday had always been a tradition of him and Maes going out to a bar and getting drunk off their asses.
This would be his first year without Maes to celebrate with.
Roy wasn’t sure what to do with himself. It was his birthday again. Before this year, everyone had counted on Maes to remember birthdays and holidays and such. But since Maes was gone, nobody could remember the dates of these events. It was in this way that Roy’s birthday was forgotten. In years past, Maes had always done something to celebrate birthdays, whether it be baking a cake (or having Glacier bake a cake, anyway) or hanging banners or announcing someone’s age over a loudspeaker. The latter method was usually used for the older staff, but he’d done it to Roy once or twice. But this year, nobody had remembered his birthday. Not that he blamed them or anything. He wasn’t sure whether he was happy or not about people forgetting his birthday.
It was strange, really. Usually he’d get flowers or chocolate from a girlfriend (or ten) but this year, none. Come to think of it, though, Roy hadn’t really been living up to his reputation as a Ladies’ Man since Maes… well, since the incident.
And now Roy was sitting alone at his desk at 8:00 pm, wondering what he was doing with his life, with a bottle of scotch and an old photograph for company.
So how could she possibly have forgotten the Colonel’s birthday?
It was because of Maes, she figured. The man had always reminded her of her own birthday, not just everyone else’s. But with the man’s absence came the shocking reminder that she really didn’t know the birthdays and holidays that popped up at seemingly random times. She had often forgotten her own birthday before she met Maes, and rarely did she remember—or celebrate—the birthdays of others.
But forgetting Roy’s birthday? How could she?
She had worried that something was wrong when she left the office and Roy was still there, but she hadn’t really thought anything of it at the time. But the more she did think about it, the stranger it seemed. Since when did Roy stay overtime? And why had he seemed so distant all day? And staying overtime! She couldn’t get her mind off it, it was so absurd. Something was definitely wrong with Roy.
Riza sighed. She was already in her pajamas, snuggled up against the couch with Black Hayate, reading a random novel. She was very comfortable. She didn’t want to go anywhere.
“Roy, you better be in a bad shape, dammit,” she growled to herself as she stripped out of her nightclothes and into normal civilian clothes, annoyed at being made to get up and go somewhere. “And if you aren’t when I get there, you will be when I leave!”
“And do you remember dat time we got zzzzoooooh drunk dat dey had to let us sweep at da bar because we were too wasted to tell da taxi guy where we lived?” He was asking excitedly, slurring in his drunkenness. “Dat was gweat, wadn’t it, Maes?”
“Roy,” Riza whispered sadly. She slowly closed the door behind her, and walked slowly toward her smashed superior. “Roy, it’s me.”
“Reeeezaaa?” Roy called out blindly. “Didja come tah celebrate wid Maes an’ me?”
“Roy…”
“We used tah do dis every year on muh birthday,” Roy explained happily. “Me an’ Maes, geddin’ dwunk on muh birthday! Right, Maes?” Roy swung his bottle of scotch up as if having cheers with Maes himself. Maybe in his head, Riza thought, he was. “Wudja like tuh join us?”
Riza felt like crying. Seeing her taisa in this shape… it was more than just embarrassing. It broke her heart. And she didn’t have a clue as to what she should do.
“Sure, Roy,” she said as she felt her sight become blurry with tears. She blinked them back and pulled a chair up next to Roy. She sat there till late that night, sometimes struggling to stay awake, other times struggling not to cry. For hours she sat there, listening to Roy talk to ‘Maes’ in his drunken stupor. She listened to all sorts of old stories and jokes and things she almost didn’t believe as Roy reminisced.
“But ya can’t weally be gone, wight, Maes? It’s justah bad dweam, wight?” Roy was saying. “I know yur here. An’ we’ll always celebrate muh birthday just like dis, wight?” He raised his bottle for another cheers and took a swig.
Finally, Riza couldn’t take any more. She broke down and cried. She cried for her own sadness of Maes’s death, for Roy’s, and for what she was seeing right now. It was just so sad, she couldn’t believe it. Roy Mustang, at this very moment, for all the world to see, was a broken man.
“Reezaa, what’s wrong?” Roy asked with concern, sobering up a tiny bit at the sight of Riza in tears. “Why are you crying?” He placed his hands on her shoulders as he kneeled in front of her, and she launched herself forward and wrapped her arms around him. She sobbed on his shoulder, her sadness overwhelming her. Roy wrapped his arms around her awkwardly and patted her back. By the time she stopped crying, Roy was passed out on her shoulder. She wiped the tears from her eyes and dragged her taisa towards the couch. She somehow managed to find a blanket in the dark abyss of the closet (along with a few more bottles of random alcoholic drinks in various places, as well as tweezers, an instruction manual to a clock, and a beach umbrella,) and laid it on top of Roy. Satisfied with her work, she went home to get at least a few hours of sleep before she had to come in to work the next day.
Roy never did find out what exactly happened that night, but he did know one thing. He wasn’t going to waste this next year. He was going to make every single day, every minute, every second count. If not for himself, then for Maes, whose time had been stolen from him. No, Roy Mustang was not going to waste this next year. He was determined to make something of himself before his next birthday. And he was going to start by buying a thank-you card and a single, blood-red rose.
Maybe Maes was always right about finding the ‘right woman,’ Roy thought absently as he laid the flower and note on Riza’s desk early the next morning. I think I found her.
Love,
Ashuton-chan