Lascivious

Chapter Five

The sun shone through the train's dirty, smudged window, and its layers of bright rays painted the compartment like a canvas. Just outside, picturesque landscapes rushed by, image after image of sprawling green meadows and pristine blue skies flashed with all the fervency of a stop motion picture. But to the young woman drumming her fingers off tempo against the compartment window, even the sunniest days and clearest skies could not make time pass by any faster.

At last, the train pulled to a stop. She grabbed her suitcase and walked briskly into Central Station. It had been a long time since she had been to the nation's capital—too long for someone who enjoyed the hustle and bustle of one of Amestris' few big cities. She'd been too busy to visit, she would tell others, or the train ride was too long, she'd complain, ignoring the notion in the back of her mind that perhaps the real reason for her reluctance lay with who she knew was there.

This visit was hardly for frivolity, however; she knew that she would never be able to forgive herself if something happened that she could have prevented. She hailed a cab and, after her hand scrambled through her overcrowded purse for the slip of paper, she read off the address to the driver.

"Hospital?" the driver asked gruffly. "You got family there?"

"Ex-boyfriend," she admitted, and they spent the rest of the ride in silence.

They pulled up to the hospital, and after telling the name of the patient to the woman at the front desk, she made her way up to the room and flung open the door.

He was smoking, like he always did, even when she had told him how much she hated it.

"There are some things you just can't quit on," he had told her. She, apparently, had not been one of them.

He nearly dropped the cigarette in surprise. "R-rebecca?"

"Oh spare me the pleasantries, Jean; you know why I'm here. Now what's this I've heard about Riza suddenly disappearing? Why has every single member of your team who I've tried to contact apparently been transferred to some god forsaken corner of the country? And why is Mustang refusing to answer any of my calls asking about Riza?"

He was taken aback and, embarrassed by her outburst, she quickly sat down in a chair by his bed. "And... uh... I'm sorry about your legs. I was going to come, but I..."

"I understand," he said quickly.

"But Riza? Is she alright? The hospital told me when I called that she had just suddenly disappeared from this room in the middle of the night."

"She should be alright," he assured her. "Better off than if she had been left here, I hope." He seemed to note Rebecca's obvious confusion and struggled to put the words together. "You see, I had to... I kind of let her get kidnapped?"

"You what?"

"No that's wrong—well it's not but there's more to it than that. Mustang—"

"What does Mustang have to do with this?"

"Well, he's not really Mustang anymore." He struggled hastily for an explanation. He's... he's kind of my ex-girlfriend now."

Rebecca blinked. "Roy Mustang is your ex-girlfriend?"

Jean sighed. "Let me start at the beginning. Do you know what a homunculus is?"

And he told it from the beginning. From when he had first been transferred to Central, less than a week after their breakup, and he met a pretty young woman calling herself Solaris. He recounted the weeks since then and Rebecca could only listen in breathless shock.

"So let me get this straight," she said after he had finished. "The living embodiment of sexual deviancy wanted carry off my best friend and you just let him?"