Yesterday was Riza Hawkeye appreciation day, and my fellow associate @mondfuchs suggested I drew a remastered “sick shades Riza” from this drawing from last year to celebrate this important event... which is something I had promised to do a while ago, ahaha!! For some reason, that emotionally detached, boombox carrying Riza stuck with me throughout the year as my icon... and it sort of became iconic (ba dum tss) on its own, as my friends (and I) wouldn’t see me with any other icon!!
I couldn’t resist drawing some finger guns and sparkles this time around, hehehe... But I’m so happy with it, specially after noticing the improvement!! :>
It's been an absolute pleasure and a privilege to collaborate with @meiosis2 on Riza Hawkeye Appreciation Day. Check out her amazing art that's making me cry!!!!! https://meiosis2.deviantart.com/art/Riza-Day-702086285
The Gift
Friday August 25th: The Plan
Mustang surveyed the room as he entered the office. He swept past Hawkeye’s empty desk. The men were working quietly; the only sounds were of pens scratching against paper and the clinking of metal on metal from where Fuery was taking a radio apart.
“Has the Lieutenant left for the day already?”
Havoc looked up from his paperwork. “She did, Boss, but she asked us to remind you about your hospital appointment.”
Mustang shook his head and sighed. “I hate the damn place.”
“I know how you feel,” Havoc replied. “All that damn physical therapy they make me do for my legs.”
Even philosopher stones had their limits. Mustang knew that well enough especially as the doctors were threatening to make him wear glasses.
Breda stood up and handed Mustang a pile of paperwork. ”A present from Hawkeye.”
“Right - lots to do.” Nodding, he took the papers and put them on his own desk. He turned around again, his jaw set and a gleam in his eyes. “Men!”
The four men looked up from their work, and Mustang continued, “While Hawkeye is away, there's something I need to talk to you about.”
Fuery frowned. “What about Lieutenant Hawkeye, sir?”
“Well, Fuery, this is about the Lieutenant.” Mustang smiled as his men straightened up in their chairs. “This has to stay in this room.”
“Yes, sir.”
“It has come to my attention that the Lieutenant’s birthday passed while she and I were recuperating in hospital.”
“We didn’t think of it until after Boss,” Havoc said.
“No matter,” Mustang said. “I declare September 1st Riza Hawkeye Appreciation Day. We should do something nice for her like -”
“We could complete all our paperwork on time,” Falman suggested. “I'm sure she would be grateful.”
The other four men laughed.
Falman shook his head. “I'm being serious.”
“Thank you Falman.” Mustang rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “We’re looking for a bigger gesture - something that she wouldn't expect.”
“How about we make her a scrapbook?” Fuery dipped his head as he spoke. “We can put in photos.”
“And letters,” Mustang added. “Excellent idea.”
Raising his head, Fuery’s eyes widened. “Really?”
The General nodded, “Well done - you're the only one of us with a bit of imagination.”
“I don't see you coming up with many ideas,” Breda mumbled.
“What was that, Breda?”
“Nothing, sir.”
“Are you sure you don't have any suggestions, Breda?”
“Some cake.”
“Can I leave it to you to find out what her favourite cake is?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Boss, I was thinking,” Havoc said. “How about some flowers?”
“Great idea, but she doesn’t own a vase. Hmm - I’ll just have to get her one.”
“The Elric brothers are still here,” added Fuery. “I think they would be interested in helping.”
“Well - I am dropping by the hospital for this afternoon.” Roy grabbed his coat from the coat rack. “I need them to clear me for fieldwork. I can drop by their hotel on my way there.”
“But, sir,” Falman said, “what about the paperwork Hawkeye left you?”
“I think it can wait until later.” Mustang ignored the sounds of the grumbling officers. “I'll be back in three hours.”
************
September 1st: The Surprise
Hawkeye walked through the almost deserted corridors of East City Headquarters. She mentally listed all the tasks she needed to accomplish for the day. Not only were Mondays always a busy day, but it was also the day that the team was at its most unproductive.
The office door was slightly ajar, which was unusual but not unheard of, as she was almost always the first person in the office. She surmised that the General had probably arrived early.
She pushed the door open and entered the office. She took only a few steps before she froze. A bunch of flowers was sitting in a vase in the middle of her desk. She approached the desk to read the card attached.
“Surprise!”
She gasped as five heads appeared from behind the desks.
She looked from one to the other, then arched an eyebrow. “What's going on?”
Havoc shook his head. “Come on, Hawkeye, we know you’re not dumb.”
She turned to Mustang, who was now sitting on the edge of her desk. “General?”
”We thought we wanted to do something nice for you, to uh show our -” He stood up and gestured around the room. “We wanted to show our appreciation.”
“Thank you. You really shouldn’t have.”
She felt the heat rush to her cheeks and she averted her face. Taking the card from the flowers, she read: “To Hawkeye, From the Team.”
Smiling, she looked up again. “And how did you know I needed a flower vase?”
She caught her superior's eye letting him know she knew exactly who had thought of the vase.
“It was all the General’s idea.” Havoc clapped Mustang on the back.
Was that a blush staining her superior’s cheeks? Her lip twitched a little. At least she wasn't the only one who was embarrassed.
“Everyone helped.” Mustang reached behind him and pulled out a parcel. “From all of us, including the Elrics.”
“They’re sorry they couldn’t be here,” Falman said.
Frowning, Hawkeye took the parcel. All four men stared as she carefully unwrapped the ribbon.
“Come on Hawkeye,” Breda pleaded. “Why don’t you just tear it open?”
She ignored him and continued opening the wrapping just as carefully. When she peeled back the paper, she found what looked like a book.
“What is this?”
“A scrapbook,” Falman said.
She opened the book, her jaw-dropping when she saw the pictures and personalised notes beside them.
“You - you did all this for me?”
Havoc grinned and winked. “No - it’s for some other Hawkeye.”
Hawkeye sat down at her desk and turned the first page. On the top, left-hand side was a picture of her with a smiling Fuery and Black Hayate. Frowning, she looked closer. A small smile on her face, she noticed that it must have been shortly after Fuery first found him as a puppy and she had agreed to adopt him. Right next to the photograph was a note from Fuery.
“Lieutenant Hawkeye, you're one of the kindest people I know, like when you took Black Hayate off my hands. I know that you would be a good owner, even if you are very strict. Black Hayate is very well cared for, his coat is so smooth and silky. Even the Colonel can't get him to misbehave. Best wishes, Kain”
Hawkeye raised an eyebrow at the Colonel, who shrugged. She wondered if he had read all of this. She turned back to the scrapbook.
Further down the page, she saw a picture from when she visited Havoc in hospital. She read the note beside it.
“Hawkeye, the Boss is the reason we're here, but you know you're the glue that keeps this team together. You kept me stocked up in cigs and came to see me nearly every day when I was laid up in the hospital to keep my spirits up. We don't show you enough how much you mean to us all. Havoc”
She was beginning to tear up. She blinked them away.
Keep it together Riza.
The final picture on the page was one she couldn’t recall seeing before with her seeing the Elric brothers off at the train station. Gracia must have taken it on the day the brothers left for Resembool after the Promised Day.
“Thanks for sticking around and keeping Mustang in check,” Edward had written. “You’ve done heaps for me and Al. Just want to let you know it’s not gone unnoticed. Ed & Al”
She laughed aloud at Al’s addition: P.S. Ed doesn’t mean that about the General.
Her eyes were clouded with tears, a lump forming in her throat making it difficult to breathe properly. How long did they spend on this? She tried to blink away the tears.
At the top of the second page, Falman’s picture appeared.
His note read: “Hawkeye, I’ve been a member of the team for 1650 days, and as long as I’ve known you, I’ve never heard you saying something spiteful. (And I would remember, even Fuery has.) Regards, Vato Falman”
Breda was pointing at a plate of cookies in the next picture. She smiled; he always appreciated her homemade baking. His message was short and to the point.
“Thanks for the Friday treats - the best part of the week. You're a doll! Breda”
When she got to the final picture and saw Roy’s familiar penmanship, she took a deep steadying breath. She ran her thumb over the photo. They were so young back then; they had so many hopes for what the future would bring. Instead, their future had been nothing like they could ever have imagined. But still, here they were 15 years later, still working hard at righting some of the wrongs they had committed.
“Lieutenant, we've known each other for many years. I wish I could take you back to those years when we were innocent and we had stars in our eyes.” She wiped at her eyes. “We’ve waded through ashes, blood, sand and paperwork. We’ve learned things we hate about ourselves.” There were so many things she wished she could take back, but at the same time, there were things she had gained that she never would have without those mistakes. “The one sure thing in all this is that you’ve never let me down. You entrusted me with your back, and I gave mine to you when I failed you. What would we (especially me) do without you?”
Fool of a man, she thought. Where would they all be without their leader?
“Yours, Roy Mustang”
There was a small smudge next to his first name. She wondered if he had added Mustang as an afterthought. It had been a long time since he had signed something so intimately. Yours he had said, just as she was his.
She took another deep breath and looked over the two pages again. She was afraid to look at Mustang or any of the men. She loved these men. They were her family, but she was in the workplace and she didn't want to break down in front of them. She was certain her composure was going to break any moment.
“This is most unexpected.” Her voice was hoarse with emotion.
Mustang let out a laugh. “That's the intention of a surprise, Lieutenant.”
She made the mistake of looking up into the General’s smiling face.
It was all too much; she burst into tears. She buried her face in her hands. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Fuery walk towards her, and she waved him away.
“Hawkeye, we didn’t mean to upset you.”
The man was trembling, eyes wide,
“She’s not upset Fuery; the Lieutenant is just overcome with emotion.”
Hawkeye managed to steady her breathing while Mustang spoke with the men and kept them away from her desk. She was grateful for the time to compose herself.
Mustang turned around and caught her gaze. “Have I made you cry again, Lieutenant?” He kept his voice just loud enough for her to hear.
Her lip twitched and she smiled in response. “You’re conceited, you know.”
“I think that’s a yes.”
She ignored his teasing and she wiped at her face. She could feel his eyes boring a hole in her skull.
He came closer and lightly brushed her shoulder. “You alright?”
“Everyone has been so kind, but I need a few minutes to compose myself.”
He inclined his head.
“Let me take care of that!” He turned around again. “Hey, men! Why don’t we get some tea and fetch that delicious cake that Breda brought for the occasion.”
“But it's only breakfast time,” Falman said.
Breda put his arm around Falman’s shoulders. “We've been through this. There is always time for cake.”
Hawkeye watched as the men left the room, talking animatedly.
Mustang was the last to leave and he stopped at the door to look over his shoulder. “I know we drive you to distraction sometimes, but never doubt how much you mean to us.”
Riza Hawkeye Appreciation Day 2107
- is drawing to a close in my part of the world. And I’ve got nothing, but this wip coloured over scan thingy. Riza deserves so much more.
