I don't own FMA

Continuation of chapters 22,23, & 26

Prompt: Things One Cannot Understand

-.-.-.-.-

Riza stared in the mirror, mourning the loss of her hair. She picked up the little hand mirror that had belonged to her mother and used it to get a look at the back of her head.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she surveyed the hasty cut her father had given her hair. She blinked and straightened her lips into a firm line.

"No crying,"she told herself. "I won't let him have that power over me. It's only hair, it'll grow back."

Her shoulder smarted as she held the mirror. She briefly wondered if the bruise from where he'd held her down was gone yet. She rolled her shoulder in its socket, hoping to work out the ache.

Putting the pain in the back of her mind, she used her freehand to grab the scissors that lay on the sink counter. She steeled herself for itch that would crawl across her back, and turned her head so she could get a better glimpse of her hair. She had to make it at least look decent before she went anywhere, or else she'd have to face even more questions. The scissors gleamed in the light, and she hesitated for a moment.

Snip

She looked away from the mirror to watch the golden lock as it floated down to her feet. A sigh escaped her lips as she turned her attention back to the mirror and went to work. The sound of the scissor blades slicing through her hair took her back to that night and her back teemed with irritation. She clenched her jaw and ignored the flashes of memories that danced across her vision.

A knock on the door made her jump, and she cursed under her breath as she caught the top of her ear with the scissors.

"Riza."

She glared at the door, the doorknob wiggled, but she'd locked it.

"I'm fine, Father," she hissed.

"What are you doing? You've been in there for a while," he called.

"Fixing my hair," she growled.

"Let me help," he suggested.

"No, I've got it."

The familiar sound of chalk dragging against wood met her ears and she stood waiting.

Blue light flashed under the door and a click sounded as the door unlocked.

She put the hand mirror down as the door opened.

"Let me help," he repeated as he joined her in the bathroom.

She stared at him for a moment and then walked over to the window.

"I'll go to the salon," she protested as she threw the scissors out of the window.

"Riza, you've got to understand I had to. He left with his stupid fantasy before it was finished and there was no other place for it. I can't trust anyone," he explained, grabbing her as she attempted to brush past him.

She turned her head away from him.

"Look at me," he pleaded, squeezing her shoulders.

"That hurts," she hissed as she turned her eyes on him.

He released her and stumbled back—he'd never wanted to hurt her—never.

"I'm going to the salon," she told him as she disappeared down the stairs.

He nodded, wondering how he could make her see that he hadn't done anything wrong, that one day she'd thank him for trusting her with the secrets of flame alchemy.

He winced as the front door slammed.

"Stupid, naïve boy," he grumbled, telling himself that if not for the boy's foolish idealism he wouldn't have had to stow the array anywhere but the boy's head.

-.-.-.-.-

"What have you done to your hair, dear?" the hairdresser gasped as she got a glimpse of Riza.

"It was hot and this is much more manageable," Riza lied, letting the woman lead her to a chair. "But I couldn't get it even."

"I can fix that, but it's a shame all that beautiful hair is gone."

Riza shrugged and forced a smile onto her face, preparing for another lie. "I like it."

"As long as you like it, honey, but next time let us cut it off for you. We'll buy it to make a wig."

Riza nodded as the woman picked up a pair of scissors and a comb.

"This'll only take a minute or two," the woman told her.

Riza nodded and closed her eyes as she relaxed in the chair.

-.-.-.-.-

A.N. - Lots of ideas floating around in my head atm, but hopefully I'll finish this arc up soon. Thanks for reading!

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