Brief Commentary:
asdfghjkl I'm sorry I haven't been updatiiiing...-is sad- I wish I wasn't so preoccupied with other manga - I even forgot that the next volume of FMA will be released soon (I only remembered yesterday morning). D: I'm so awful. But I will renew my efforts to update RNFYE, no matter how boring it gets! I will overcome! ...and, eh, mind a review? :)

-hums Summer Overture by Clint Mansell-


Reasons Not For Your Ears
Chapter Thirty-Three

Another week or so passed before it was determined that Edward had been restored to full health. He certainly looked it, as his once ratty hair contained more color, was thicker, straighter. His eyes, for once, were unclouded by illness or pain, instead sharp and focused. His skin, while marked every once and a while with a frightening scar, was free of any type of wound, and his clothes had been replaced (thanks to Alphonse, who had dropped by a few days later to do so). Instead of his filthy pair of jeans and Winry's father's old shirt, he wore clothes that fit the hot summer season; namely, a pair of beige colored cargo shorts, and a black t-shirt sporting a logo neither of them could recognize. If Winry hadn't spent so much time around him, she would not have known who he was.

Eventually, the day arrived when Edward would be moving back in with his brother, and his mood was at its foulest. It was impossible to remember how on earth Winry had gotten him out of the door and out to the bus stop, and eventually onto the bus. Pinako was out grocery shopping again, so it was up to her to do the honors.

Presently, she was standing next to him, all the seats having been taken up. He was clenching one of the offered poles with one hand, his knuckles a bright white as he ground his teeth. With the other hand, he was subtly holding on to Winry's denim jacket, which was more for show than for warmth, as it was a comfortable seventy-five degrees farenheit outside. She, meanwhile, stood silently beside him, leaning slightly into his touch for a bit of balance, eyes blank and staring straight ahead. Only a few people on the bus were speaking, and it was in small murmurs.

It was with great relief when they finally got off, starting towards the street where Alphonse's mansion was located. The mansion itself was relatively hard to miss, as it was perched on top of a large hill, overlooking the other buildings near by. After a few minutes of trekking, they managed to approach the main gate, pausing to inform the security system of their presence. Pressing a small green button on one of the gate's columns, she waited for a security guard to speak.

"Who is this?" He sounded as though he were in a rotten mood.

"This is Winry Rockbell and Edward Elric. We're here to visit Alphonse...?"

The man paused.

"Edward Elric-san?"

"Yes, I'm here," Edward growled, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"...You're back, then?"

"Goddammit, didn't my worthless brother tell you anything? Of course I'm fucking back!" he snapped at the security guard.

"...er, I see. In that case, please go on in. And, uh...Rockbell-san, yeah, she can go, too."

With a small clang, the gates slowly retracted, Edward hurriedly leading the way. Winry followed, realizing with a small bit of wariness that it would have been easier to travel by car - the drive way was enormous, and only made the mansion seem bigger. The walk itself took a good seven minutes before they made it to the front door, which was automatically opened by a waiting butler. He arched an eyebrow at their slightly sweaty and out-of-breath condition, eyes lingering a moment longer on Edward, but he said nothing and instead lead them away to where ever Alphonse was.

They breezed past a room where Winry thought she glimpsed a dark-haired man with an eyepatch, an old name Paninya had used popping up again as she did so. Bradley-san...? But the thought was soon forgotten as the blonde adolescent realized she was being left behind. She quickened her pace and soon found herself at Edward's side again, ignoring the eyeroll he sent her as she briefly took in some of the mansion's extravegant interior.

Another fourty-five seconds of walking in silence passed before the butler bowed slightly to them and opened a door, quietly announcing Winry and Edward's presence before departing.

A soft "come in," was heard, and they stepped inside, the older Elric much more reluctant to do so.

There sat Alphonse, in a pair of jean shorts and a polo shirt, looking completely comfortable on the fancy couch he sat on. Inviting them to take a seat opposite him, he focused his attention completely on Winry as he began to speak.

"Well, I appreciate you coming out here with him, Winry," he offered a small, polite smile. "I understand my Nii-san is not very good company. I trust he is back to complete health?"

Winry nodded.

"He didn't have anything to bring," she said, "So he came as he was. I did also. I hope that's all right."

Alphonse seemed to brighten slightly at her longer sentences, quickly nodding.

"Oh, that's fine. When he ran aw- I mean, when he left," he shot Edward a meaningful glare, "he didn't take anything but food from one of the kitchens."

She blinked at the phrase "one of," but did not voice her small feeling of curiosity.

"I see."

They sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes, before the younger Elric cleared his throat.

"Well, thanks again for coming with Nii-san," he nodded. "I'll let you go home now, Winry; and he should know where his room is," he said, shrugging and standing up. "I'll have someone escort you out."

"Thank you," she mumbled, but Alphonse had already left the room, the door cracked open so that she could follow. She too, got up to leave, stopping at a sudden tug on her denim jacket. Glancing down at Edward, she was slightly surprised at the pout-like scowl on his face.

"Hey," he glared hard at her, releasing his hold on the material. "Don't go out to kill yourself when I'm not around, okay? I'm not always going to be able to save your sorry ass."

She nodded, almost feeling a smile tug at her lips. Almost. Her stomach twitched, and the muscles around her mouth suddenly ached, and she wanted to smile at him, but Winry found she could not bring herself to. So instead, she blinked at him, shrugged her shoulders, and walked out of the room.

The butler was already waiting for her in the hallway, and silently began to show her the way out. She nodded to herself, intending to thank him, but the words wouldn't come to her tongue, so she decided against it. Besides, the prick that had begun in her stomach the week previous was back, and even more distracting and painful this time. Winry didn't like it, how it threatened to bring back her sadness, threatened to unlock the tight hold she had on all of her emotions, and let them flood her and drown her senses.

She decided to ignore it as the two of them walked on in silence. It was only a few minutes later that they had reached the double front doors, the butler opening it for her and gesturing for her to leave. After a pause, she nodded at him and did as directed, vaguely wondering if she would ever come back to the mansion.

The walk down the immense driveway was lonely, but Winry tried not to think so. She focused her attention on combing her fingers through her hair, which she had left down that day, instead of in its usual ponytail or bun. A light breeze splayed the loose strands across her face, and she brushed them away, trying to comb out a few tangles that had developed. This method of ignoring her "loneliness" did not last very long, as brushing her hair manually soon became a very dull thing to do.

Despite her own vehement protests, she found herself wishing she was with Edward again. His presence was so very distracting, and yet it was so very stable, and its familiarity was comforting. The prick in her stomach developed into a little ache, and Winry attempted to shove her upsetting thoughts aside. She didn't want to feel anything, damn it!

With a small scowl, she realized she was getting angry - this wasn't good. Her solid indifference and lack of emotion was starting to leave her - she much preferred that state of mind, she really did...

Wrapped up in her confusing thoughts, Winry hardly noticed when she passed through the gates and when they swung shut behind her, sending a hot gust of summer air at her back. She kept walking forward until she realized she was about to miss the bus stop, and quickly made her way down the correct street that would lead to it. No sense in having to wait another three hours before it arrived a second time, if she ended up missing it.

Fortunately, she did not, and to Winry's relief, there were significantly less people on this particular bus. Sitting down, she left herself to stare out the glass window, watching the city scenary pass without really seeing it. She jerked a little at each stop the bus made, half-expecting it to be hers, but each time stilled herself when she realized that, no, this area had different streets, a different building, or that this area had a fountain there, and no apartment buildings in sight.

Another fifteen minutes of this passed before the bus squeaked to a halt in front of her stop, Winry slowly rising from her seat to leave, failing to notice a lingering pair of eyes on her as she exited the large vehicle.

She reached her apartment building within a few minutes of getting off of the bus, clambering half-heartedly up the stairs as she began to wish she lived somewhere else, somewhere less depressing. Frowning at herself, Winry reached into her pocket for the keys, unlocking the door with practiced effenciency. Tugging the key out of the keyhole, she proceeded to open the door and glanced inside, wondering if Pinako had come home yet. Not to her surprise, she had, and sat on the couch facing her.

"So," Pinako said quietly, pausing to light her pipe, "He's gone, then?"

"Yes," Winry answered, closing the door behind her. "What time is it?"

"3:17," her grandmother glanced at the small clock that hung in the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"

"No, thanks," Winry shook her head, "I'll be in my room."

"Fine."

As soon as she had closed her bedroom door behind herself, Winry felt the small ache grow a bit bigger, and froze in shock as something warm made its way down her cheeks. Skirting past her bed to look in her mirror, her eyes widened slightly at the sight of tears trickling down her face.

The crack had only gotten bigger.


My writing style has gotten worse. I just know it has. And this story sucks, doesn't it?