Iceclaw14: Hello people, and welcome to my very first FMA fic! I absolutely love both FMA anime, but I haven't yet read the manga, so I'll be getting to that soon. Anyway, this is based on the original anime and takes place two years after the end of Conqueror of Shamballa, so spoilers! Disclaimer: I own nothing other than a burning love for Edward Elric. And yet he's not even in this….Lawl.
The funeral, although it was far from extravagant and the recently-departed a none-too popular old woman, taking place in a country village several hours from Central, was one that attracted the attention of nearly a hundred people. Even those who had only spoken to the late Pinako once or twice attended, but not for the deceased auto-mail mechanic's sake, but for the sake of her granddaughter, Winry. The woman, Pinako, had been a fantastic auto-mail engineer, creating light-weight and maneuverable auto-mail for those who missed the feel of flesh and heavy ones complete with attachments for those who embraced their new-found limbs. She had expanded the then small Rockbell Auto-Mail business into the famous one it is now, more commonly known as Fullmetal Auto-Mail, after their highest-paying, youngest, and most famous former customer.
This funeral marks the fifth time the young mechanic had been abandoned. First by her parents, summoned to be doctors in Ishval all those years ago and never returned; Secondly by Edward and Alphonse Elric when they swore to regain their bodies eight years ago; Again by Ed when he brought back his brother and was swept into a different world for tears; The fourth was when the two brothers, newly-reunited, left Amestris to seal the gate in the world Ed had lived in. And now she was the only remaining Rockbell.
The villagers of Risembool were the first to leave the procession, having whispered words of thanks before Pinako's grave and offered some threads of comfort to the young blonde woman. But their niceties could not penetrate her, instead falling dead at her feet. The villagers, feeling that they could do nothing else but leave the girl in solitude, retreated to their farms and livestock.
The number was then cut to sixty-five or so, and nearly all of them were proudly cloaked in military swaths. The black cloaks over their blue uniforms danced in the wind, flapping like the wings of flying birds, and nearly all of the hats were cast downward to hide the saddened eyes of the funeral attendees.
Den whimpered from his spot next at Winry's side. He was an elderly dog now, gray hairs encircling his black face like a crown, and his large brown eyes were droopy. Unless Den somehow defied all knowledge, he would die within three years, and Winry would be the only Rockbell.
Behind the young auto-mail mechanic stood the newly-dubbed Colonel Riza Hawkeye. At her shoulder was Scieska, who had finally obtained the perfect job: she was paid to read the State Military's entire library in case anything was to befall any of the records. Next so Scieska was Rose, who had traveled from all the way from Lior to offer her thanks to Pinako, leaving her three children with her new husband.
Major Alex Louis Armstrong, the Strong-Arm Alchemist, was one of the many who was hiding his sad eyes from others using the brim of his hat. Brigadier General Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, was doing the same. The pain he was going through was unimaginable, those who knew whom the murderer of Winry's parents was presumed that he felt like a murderer more now than ever, that he was probably thinking that if he had not killed her parents, she would not be as depressed, and she would not be walking home alone.
Mustang's party, consisting of Jean Havoc, Heymans Breda, Kain Fuery, and Vato Falman, all stood behind him. None of them knew Pinako, and Beda and Havoc were almost tempted to begin speaking about the rash Breda had found on his forearm this morning; but the depressing air prevented them from mumbling a single word as to the rash's odd color or high level of itchiness.
The sun had begun to set, but even with the frigid cold settling upon the party, they stood waiting for Winry to move. The young mechanic stared at Pinako's grave with eyes now dry, but only because she could cry no longer. Winry sniffled, turned on her heel, and walked off in the direction of her home, Den's steps in perfect tune with her own. The red tulips she left before Pinako's grave waved in the wind, as though they were bidding farewell.
In the late-Pinako's house, now Winry's, in the basement where auto-mail parts were kept, was a seven-foot complete suit of armor. On a small table next to the armor was a folded-up cloak of a rich red. It had a black insignia on the back. The insignia was a snake slithering up a cross with a crown over the snake with two feathers beside it.
When Winry descended the stairs, she was immediately reminded of the day almost two years ago. Three days after Ed and Al left:
An expert transmutation circle had been etched into the ground. Winry had copied it directly from an alchemy text she had discovered in her room—a younger Ed and Al had probably left it there. It had taken her several hours to get it perfectly correct. On top of the circle was a pile of broken auto-mail parts and designs she had planned to give to Ed. But there was no use for them now other than this one small favor.
"What I don't understand is why you want to do this," Roy Mustang had said from behind her.
"Does it matter?" She retorted bitterly. "It's simple alchemy; I'm not asking for much. You can do it, can't you?"
He shook his head. "The point is not whether or not I can perform this simple alchemy, but how this is going to help either of us. It's only going to give us false hope."
"Just do it anyway, I am going to be the one staring at it days and nights; you'll be in Central, far away from these torn memories. I do not want to let go of any of it."
"And neither do I, but this is not necessary."
"Just do it."
Mustang sighed as he stepped forward. He knelt to the ground and slowly pressed his hands on the white transmutation circle. There was a blinding white light, and, even before the alchemist stepped back, Winry could see the familiar suit of armor.
Mustang took several steps back and glanced at the armor. He nodded. "Perfect, it looks just like the real thing."
Winry nodded, staring at the armor with wide eyes. She turned to Mustang and gasped. In his hands he held a familiar red fabric. Tears sprung to Winry's eyes, and she snatched it from Mustang's hands without any care. She pressed the cloak to her face and breathed in his scent; which reminded her of autumn and apples and cinnamon. She lowered it from her face and stared at the alchemist with a smile on her face. "Where did you get this?"
"We have been following the trail Ed and Al left when they were fighting the Homunculi," Mustang explained. "We managed to make the connections with an inn in a gloomy city and discovered that the innkeeper was keeping that cloak in a frame and charging customers extra to see it. It was undoubtedly good for business, but still a crime. I only wish I had found it sooner."
Winry shook her head. "Thank you, Mr. Mustang."
He gave her a small smile. "You're welcome Winry; but just don't let this get to your head."
Scieska kneeled before the flowers Winry had placed on the grave. "Oh," she said. "Blood-red tulipss…."
Rose blinked. "Those were the kind of flowers Winry and Pinako had in front of their house, they were so beautiful."
Hawkeye, whom had overheard the conversation, stepped in. "Are these the same flowers that were planted in front of the house?"
"Let's see," Scieska closed one eye and peeked into the white bag that contained the flowers. "Yup! You can see the dirt at the stems."
"But why would she dig up those flowers?" Rose questioned. "She could have easily gotten other ones from somewhere else, she didn't have to dig up such beautiful tulips."
Scieska shook her head. "Do you guys know what red tulips represent?"
The two women above the brunette shook their heads.
"An undying love…."
Rose, Scieska, and Hawkeye all had grown close to Winry during their many escapades, and stayed with her for a week after the funeral. The young girl was a mess, they all said when the three had an opportunity to speak to each other in solitude. She would not rise until almost noon, then would lock herself up her workroom without a single word, then would not peek out until past four. She would make herself a small ham sandwich, and then lock herself back up again. She would not retire to her room until two or three in the morning. Once, Rose, who had risen at around four to use the restroom, took a look at the workroom. Knuts and bolts were everywhere, shoved into every nook and cranny available. At the center of the worktable, before the oaken chair where Winry sat day after day, were two high-quality pieces of auto-mail: one for the left leg, the other for the right arm. The artificial limbs were shorter than most auto-mail intended for young men.
"Oh dear," Rose mumbled.
When the group of three women next assembled in the morning, Rose shared her findings with the other two. The two were unsettled by her words, but Scieska also had some news to share.
"I went to Pinako's grave earlier," she began as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "And, atop the bag of red tulips, from the funeral, were more flowers—of the same kind."
Scieska and Rose were baffled, but it appeared that Riza blinked, and, when she did, she stepped inside of the mind of Winry Rockbell. She kept her eyes closed for a few moments, testing her new hypothesis, while Rose and Scieska chatted.
Rose: When do you think she visited the grave? It appears that she never leaves the house.
Scieska: Remember: she leaves her workroom long after we are all sleeping. She could easily sneak out of the house and visit the grave. It's simple, really.
Rose: The poor girl….
Den barked in response.
Riza opened her eyes and turned to the glassed girl. "Scieska; can you go to the grave and take three of the red flowers?"
Scieska blinked. "T-three?"
Riza nodded. "Just three."
Scieska, seeing the understanding in the woman's eyes and hearing it in her voice, nodded and walked out of the house in a daze. Before Rose could question the stern woman's actions, she was ordered to wake Winry. Rose stood from her seat and headed into the hallway. She took a deep breath before Winry's door, her clenched fist wavering before the wood. She prayed that Winry would be anything but angry. Why, she would let out a sigh of relief if she opened the door, revealing a blushing Winry with an empty bottle of whiskey in her hand! But, when she opened the door, Winry was not drunk: but was not present at all.
Rose, fearing the worst possible, scurried back to Riza as though there were a demon behind her; but the lieutenant colonel did not respond with the same fear. Instead, she shrugged, mumbled something about knowing where the auto-mail mechanic wandered off to, and resumed staring out of the window with her amber eyes.
In about five minutes, Scieska returned, three red lilies in hand. Riza took the lilies and said to the other two, "Alright, be prepared to support me. Winry is undoubtedly going to resist my logic."
The two nodded in reply, and the three concerned friends stepped out of the house. Riza led them through the farmland with ease, and Rose and Scieska were shocked, pondering how she could know the area so well when she had only come to Risembool a select few times. Still, they trusted the woman—and Den, who was walking beside Riza, his auto-mail leg squeaking with every step he took. Obviously, Winry was neglecting more than just herself.
Several times the odd party was stopped by villagers asking about Winry's condition. Riza responded before a sound could emerge from any mouth but her own, stating that Winry was mourning and was spending her days working dutifully on auto-mail. It was the truth, not a lie came from Riza's mouth, but it appeared to the villagers that Winry was getting along fine without the late Pinako. They thanked the women—and dog—for aiding Winry, and resumed their work.
As soon as the villagers were out of earshot, Rose asked, "Riza? Um, why did you not tell the villagers the truth?"
"I told them the truth."
'Y-yes, but you didn't tell them that Winry's clinging on to withering hopes, not to mention slowly killing herself," Scieska added.
They heard the smile edging Riza's voice. "Yes, but she will not be for much longer."
Den barked jubilantly.
Riza waved her hand behind her, sending Scieska and Rose to a stop. Den barked, and sprinted forward. Rose and Scieska took a step to the side and looked around Riza to see a rushing river, and Winry sitting before it, her knees to her chest, Den moaning beside her.
Riza sluggishly advanced towards Winry, as though any sudden movement would scare off the young girl, like a deer in the forest. Scieska and Rose stepped slowly, softly, behind her. Riza was holding the tulips behind her back, and, when she lowered herself to the ground beside the girl, she moved them to her hand so Winry would not see. Rose and Scieska took their places beside Riza.
"So, Winry," Riza began, immediately driving towards the heart of the conversation. "When have you been visiting your grandmother's grave?"
Winry was ragged, to put it kindly. Her hair was a rat's nest, her clothes, which were a pair of baggy shorts and a gray tank top, grease-stained and ill-fitting. Her eyes were rimmed with red from days of constant tears, and her cheeks striped with grease. Her entire body was covered with grease and sweat.
She bit her lip. "How did you know…?" Her voice was weak, and trailed off aimlessly.
"We saw the flowers you put atop the ones from the funeral."
"How do you know the flowers are mine?" Winry asked harshly. "Anyone could have dropped those flowers off."
Riza shook her head. "They were the red tulips that once grew before your house: they symbolize undying love."
"Is it so difficult to believe that I still love my grandmother?" Winry questioned. "Is it so odd that I leave flowers upon her grave? I shall love her forever, which is why I used the red tulips."
Riza shook her head again. "No, that is not why you used the red tulips. You dug the tulips out of the ground from your house because you felt that Pinako had exhausted all the remains of your love."
Winry's blue eyes watered, her mask shattered. "I-I cannot take it anymore! First Ed, then Al, and now Pinako! They've all left me…I'm along, sitting here in this house on a hill, just waiting; waiting for them to come back. I have a replica of Al's armor in the basement as well as Ed's cloak. I'm going to die alone, waiting for them to return when I know they never will." She buried her face in her hands and bawled.
Scieska's hand twitched. She was tempted to pat Winry's head comfortingly, but Riza's hard, definite gaze stopped her. Riza separated one of the lilies from the other two and waved it before Winry's hand. Winry placed her hands back at her side, staring at the flower unsurely.
"Take it," Riza commanded. Winry obliged in silence, taking the gentle stem of the fragile flower with shaking hands. "Now," Riza continued. "I want you to pretend this flower is Pinako."
It seemed as though everyone gasped in questioning, including Den.
"W-what do you mean?" Winry questioned.
"Exactly what I said—we're going to pretend that flower is Pinako." She licked her lips. "Now, tell me, do you love Pinako?"
The girl nodded "Of course I do! She's my grandmother. I'll lover her forever."
Riza nodded. "Good, now let the flower go into the river."
"What! Why would I do that? Did we not just establish that this is not a flower, but my grandmother? Do you want me to kill her?"
"I'm sorry, let me phrase that again: this flower symbolizes your undying love for your grandmother, as you intended when you placed it upon her grave. Now, I want you to fling your undying love into the river and be swept away by the strong currents. I want you to let it go."
"So you want me to forget about her entirely? To forget about how much I love her?"
"No, again, you are misunderstanding me. If you were to throw any flower to the river, it would be carried by the currents, and the river would eventually leak into the ocean. When the flower reached the ocean, it would wash ashore, and become soil. From the soil would sprout new life—maybe one day another red tulip. Even though the tulip's form may change, it shall still be a red tulip, and it shall still be your love for your grandmother. And long after you are gone the lily shall still be there, symbolizing your great love." She turned to face Winry, and their eyes met. "But, that tulip in your hand, is controlling you. The love for Pinako has overcome the rest of your life. So, let it wash away with the river. Free yourself from it, but know it shall not be gone forever."
Winry bit her lip. She kissed the fragile petal of the flower tenderly. "I love you Pinako," she whispered as she tossed the tulip into the water. The group of women and dog watched as the tulip bobbed in the water, and eventually escape their sight.
Riza took another flower from her hand and pressed it into Winry's palm."Good, now this one is Alphonse."
"Al…." Winry whispered, allowing the name to take shape in her mouth. She heard the boy's laughter, and saw the limitless love in his eyes for his golden-eyed brother."It seems like you've been gone forever, Al," she mumbled as she petted the petals. "I'll miss you." She tossed the flower into the river, and again the party watched as it disappeared from view.
"Good," said Riza, nodding.
"I know who is next," Winry said, looking up at the colonel."
"Oh, really?" replied Riza with mock surprise.
Winry turned her hand palm-up, and waited for Riza to dispense the final flower in her palm. Her eyes had begun to water again, and, when Riza placed the final red tulip in her hand, a tear slid from her blue eyes.
"Ed…," she murmured, staring down at the flower as her tears stained the blood-red petals like rain."I don't want to let you go."
"But you must," said Riza. "Ed shall tie you down just as much as Pinako."
Winry shook her head, her hair flying about her face. "No, even more." Her voice began to tremble, what remained of her confidence vanished, wiped away by her tears. "I loved Ed. I still do. I've loved him for as long as I can remember…."
"And he's gone; he has been for two years."
"I keep hoping he'll come back," Winry continued, either ignoring Riza or oblivious to her comment. "Every day I wake up and stare out my window, hoping he'll show up, and his golden eyes will light up the world, brighter than the sun. I think about him every time I stare at a jug of milk, or see auto-mail. I've been fixing him and arm and leg, for when he returns." She looked up at Riza, hope and innocence swimming in her eyes, like she was a young child. "He is coming back, right, Riza?"
Riza shrugged in response. "I can't say; but what I can say is only the facts: Ed has been gone for two years in some parallel universe, Al went with him, and Mustang sealed the gate on this side."
Winry turned her eyes to the ground. "So you don't miss him? You don't want him to come back?"
"Of course I miss Edward, he was eccentric and obnoxious, yes, but he also had a benevolent heart—as with Alphonse. I do wish for both of them to return, but I am looking at this situation skeptically, for that is how those in the military look at this. I doubt the brothers we miss so dearly shall return, to put it bluntly."
"Is that how you look at everything? From a military stand-point?" shouted Winry. The sudden powerful rage in the girl's voice caused Rose and Scieska to jump slightly into the air, but the two still remained silent.
"No."
"Then why are you acting like this?" Winry shot her head up, her blue eyes had transformed into daggers, and Riza's amber ones to an impenetrable shield.
"Because you won't let Edward go!" shouted Riza, finally allowing her voice to amplify.
"That's because I love him!" the auto-mail mechanic shot back as tears sprung to her eyes once more. "I've loved Ed for as long as I can remember, and now he's gone and you're asking me to forget about him? To give up all hope that he shall ever return?"
"Now you are putting words in my mouth. You are not hoping for Edward to return one day, no, you are waiting. And let me tell you, that waiting will drive you off the edge. And it almost has already."
Winry did not protest: she was able to see the honesty in Riza's words. She brought the flower to her lips and kissed it. "I love you, Ed," she mumbled. "I'll keep hoping for you to come, and, when you do, I'll fix you up with some new auto-mail I've been working on so hard, and you can slide right back in your place—like you've never been gone."
At her words, Scieska's face began to heat, and a tear or two slipped from her eyes, but she was able to keep silent. They silently watched as Winry loosened her grasp on the flower and, as though on command, a powerful gale rushed through the valley, plucking the flower from Winry's hands, weak from negligence, and carrying it off into the sky—a drop of red among a sea of blue.
"Are you sure you're gonna be alright?" Sceiska asked the brighter, cleaner Winry at the train station just moments before the train to Central was set to depart.
Winry nodded. "Yes, I'll be fine. I'm already flooding with orders for auto-mail, so I can hardly think anymore!"
"Y-yes, but are you sure you don't need us to stay for a bit longer, just to take care of you for a few more days?"
It was the day after Winry had let her flowers go, almost immediately upon reaching the Rockbell household, Winry retired to the bathroom to take a much-needed bath, and Riza assembled the other two and told them that, at the earliest train, they would depart the Rockbell house and return to their homes. Riza then turned on her heel and entered her room, probably to pack, while Rose and Scieska simply stared at each other, the same look of confusion drilled into their eyes. Still, the two obeyed Riza—mostly because she had proved her intelligence in the course of this emotional day. Rose's train had already departed, and she left Winry with a kiss on the cheek and a few mumbled words of, "if you ever need me, I shall come down as quickly as possible."
The blonde shook her head. "Nope, I'm fine." She then turned to Riza, who was standing proud and tall, and said, "I really should thank you, Riza."
The colonel shrugged. "No need, Winry, I was simply doing what any friend would—what you would do in my position."
"That may be true, but you read me like book! And so quickly, too."
"You're situation's easy to relate to," she replied monotonously.
At that moment, someone from the train shouted "All aboard!" and the two Central-bound women did as instructed and took a seat inside the car closest to where they were formerly standing. Winry waved at the two, and the train began to advance with its regular cacophony. Winry disappeared from view, but, almost immediately, she returned, sprinting, pressing her white sunhat to her head.
"I forgot to tell you!" said the girl over the train's clamor. "That I'm planting red tulips again! You should see them in the summer—they're beautiful!"
The girl stopped running, and the train pressed onwards without a second thought. Riza smiled; her thoughts exuberantly joyful.
"That was fun," said Scieska, causing Riza to turn from the window to the woman polishing her glasses.
"I was wondering," Riza began, "what color your sun is?"
Scieska placed her glasses back on her nose. "What do you mean?" She looked out the window at the passing farmlands at the rising sun above. "Yellow: just like everyone else's."
Riza's smile widened and she shook her head. "No, Winry's is golden—mine is black as the night."
The words went right through Scieska's mind, but she did not struggle to understand them, knowing that it would probably not be of any use to her anyway.
Winry never married, never entered a committed relationship, or one at all. But, she was happy. She smiled and laughed, repaired auto-mail and helped inspire hope in those she fitted with it. The wrinkles on her face were those of laughs and smiles. The girl lived alone for many years, until, when she was an old woman, the last of her friends, Rose, died. She then adopted a golden-eyed boy of seven who's parents had perished due to some horrid illness. She taught the boy how to create auto-mail, teaching her grandson as her grandmother taught her. She and the golden-eyed boy were inseparable.
Eventually, as everyone does, Winry passed of old age. The boy, who could no longer be called a boy, stood before the grave at the small funeral. There were tears, just as there are at any funeral, but none came from the boy's eyes. For he knew that, up, somewhere in the endless abyss known as the sky, his grandmother was staring into another set of golden eyes. Eyes she had not seen so long yet saw whenever she shot a glance outside. Eyes that laughed at her, and mirrored her loving gaze.
The boy smiled, joyful that Winry came so close to the sun.
Iceclaw14: Yay! I don't have much to say here….so yeah, review. Bye.